Page 13 of A Dead Man's B-Side
It was too bright and hard to decipher; a port barely visible by the sun’s rays shining through the middle of the canvas, and the water lapping under ships and what I’m assuming to be the acropolis to the side.
For a fleeting moment, I felt as though I was being punished just by looking at it.
I averted my gaze and continued my short trek up the stairs.
When I reached the first landing, I found a tapestry that hung from the ceiling and reached down to skim the floor and shook my head at the opulent nature of this place, before I continued up the next set of steps. A soft draft travelled past as I turned the corner into the hall.
Except, a group of boys made me pause in my short-lived admiration of the scenery. It didn’t look like a friendly scene.
I stepped back quickly, returning to the landing where I was well-concealed, and looking just over the threshold. Down the hall, I found a lanky boy with glasses and auburn hair being pinned to the wall by two burly boys in school uniforms.
Leaning against the window ledge across from them, with a tilted head and a sadistic gleam in his eyes, was someone else who made me narrow my gaze. He held himself as though he wanted others to regard him as important, but his body language said otherwise.
Catching the tail end of his cruel smirk before he spoke, I watched him shove the snow-white hair out of his face. “You knowI was excited to see you, Auggie. After a long summer, I thought your mouth would wise up.”
His posh accent matched the dean’s, I noticed, as he stood with his hands in his pockets. They were all in uniform for whatever reason. I could see from here that aside from the boy grunting against the wall, they were well-ironed and fitted for them.
Growing up in the slums, and stealing from men who fathered sons like these, I learned to spot marks with money in their wallets.
The lanky boy, Auggie, or I’m guessing that’s a nickname for August, despite the disadvantage he has surrounding him, finds it best to open his mouth rather than hold it. “I was excited to see you, too, Callum. I was getting all antsy at what list of torture methods you were drawing up for this year.” Callum, the boy with a head of white hair, curled his lip as he regardedAuggie, but the boy didn’t find that to be threatening in the least, or maybe he didn’t care.
“Maybe this time I’ll finally cut out that sharp tongue of yours and find myself a new toy.”
August’s eyes turned apprehensive as he struggled to get free; the boys holding him back only chuckled brutishly at his effort. Watching him try to get away made me believe he heard a ring of truth in Callum’s words. Knew him well enough to know he wouldn’t hesitate to do it.
But that wasn’t why I moved. I wasn’t a hero–in fact, I was anything but. Just because I noticed his attire to be used or handed down didn’t mean there was a thread connecting us in our upbringings.
It was the sound of footsteps behind me.
I stepped into the hallway around the corner just moments before another student rounded the first landing and came up the stairs with his gaze fixed on the ground, a concentrated look on his face.
His head of chestnut brown hair fell in soft waves that I couldn’t help but envy, comparing them to my near-death strands.
He reached the threshold of the hallway, and only then did he lift his head and spot me. His distant stare met mine momentarily, and he nodded politely, going to walk past before he caught the scene in front of us and paused.
August, maybe in fear of being alone with these boys, was the first to notice us, which in turn altered the attention of the others. He grunted until they let him go, and Callum fell into a different persona than the one I’d seen him embody only moments prior.
His smile turned gentle as he brushed nonexistent lint off August’s uniform jacket and patted his cheek, the other boy flinching away. “Next time, watch where you’re going. It’ll be good for you.”
Something told me his words were a double-edged sword.
With a slow turn of my head, I watched the boy next to me as his eyebrows furrowed and he frowned, but didn’t move from where he stood, only a few paces next to me.
The beat that passed over us felt like we were waiting for this boy to finally take in his surroundings.
Nobody moved, in fact, until August righted himself and disappeared around the other end of the hall’s corner with his tailtucked between his legs, we remained in stunned silence.
I wanted to shout after him that it served him right, babbling like someone with zero self-preservation.
Idiot.
Once he disappeared from view, Callum and his two sidekicks turned to me. Or rather, the pair of us, but their stares lingered on me. I could tell from the slow movement of their eyes over my shoes, my clothes, my bag hanging over my shoulder, that they were sizing me up, and I could guess correctly that they were wondering if Callum’s new toy would be me.
They could try.
I took a deep breath, and the exhaustion of today weighed me down enough to remember why I’d come up here, wanting only to move past them and live a moment of peace.
The boy next to me finally stepped forward and continued down the hall, but he didn’t make it far as Callum sauntered closer, meeting him in the middle.
