Page 3 of Knox Academy Omnibus
We finish our food and Elsie walks me back to my dorm, she complains that she is in the shit rooms because she has to share with a girl who likes to eat a lot of garlic. I haven’t told her that my almost-stepfather is the principal. I don’t want anyone to think I have special treatment.
Chapter Two
Amelie
Susan vibrates on my bedside table as I try to figure out how to tie the damn bow for my uniform. I manage to get it done, a little lopsided but done all the same. Susan keeps making obnoxious noises. Opening the screen, there is an alert that all students must be in the auditorium by 8am sharp.
I’m seriously pissed about all of it: first, who starts school that early? Second, what’s the point in making me start at a new school on a Friday? Surely they could have given me today and the weekend to settle in? It’s so stupid.
Another thing that has me crazy pissed off is that today is my brother’s birthday.Notyesterday like the incubator thought. It’s the 22nd of September, always has been. How can she remember that it’s my birthday on Tuesday, but get his wrong? I’m so mad that I won’t get to see him on his birthday - for the first time in my life - but I’m heartbroken that I won’t even get to speak to him either.
Looking at the time, I realise I spent the best part of an hour doing my bowtie and shit, so I will have to skip breakfast. Pullingon the death traps this place calls shoes, I grab my academy backpack which is filled with everything I will need for the day.
It feels like it takes ages for Susan to politely direct me to the correct location, but somehow I’m still early. My stomach grumbles and I briefly wonder if I did have time for breakfast after all. Oh well, it’s too late now. I find a seat somewhere in the middle, doubting there is any kind of specific seating arrangement. It doesn’t take long for students to start filing in, loud chatter filling the room.
The uniforms, blazers, and standard issue backpacks make this place look like any elite private school. It doesn’t look like a gathering of delinquents and criminals to me, at all. As my eyes scan the crowds filing in, I don’t see Elsie anywhere. I do however see Kalen, his boy next door charm radiating off him. I would be lying if I said I didn’t find him attractive. He is closely followed by two boys, both identical. The perfect image of my twin sexual sandwich fantasy. Hot, muscles for days, tall, smiles that could melt the panties off me. Shit, the thought causes me to clench my legs together. Maybe it’s a coincidence or maybe not, but Kalen’s gaze flicks to mine the instant my thighs tighten. He leans in and says something to the guys with dark chocolate hair that he is with before coming my way. Instead of taking the stairs in the aisle like a normal person, he jumps from seat to seat in each row until he is falling into the seat beside me, propping his legs over the seat in front of him and swinging an arm around my shoulders.
“New girl! Did you miss me?” he asks with far too much energy for so early in the morning. I look at him, watching the way his lips pull up into a smirk and liking the way his blue eyes have a sparkle to them.
“Who are you again?” I look away back towards his friends, but my twin fantasy dies as quickly as it began with the way theyseem to be looking at me. I shoot them a look that says ‘wtf is your issue?’ but their expressions don’t shift.
“I’m your future husband,” Kalen declares, loudly, which causes a few girls to turn in our direction, daggers shooting from their eyes.
“Kalen, the only person you would marry is yourself. Why don’t you be a good little boy and run back to your brothers?” Elsie snarks at him as she takes a seat beside me.
Kalen's face morphs into a frown. “Why don’t you go lick some more pussy?” he spits.
“Why, jealous I get more than you do?” she throws back. She looks towards me nervously, like she’s fearful of how I’ll react to the news of her being a lesbian. I don’t care. Why would I?
“Sorry, that would be a no to being your future wife, Kalen. Elsie, I’m afraid you’re way out of my league too.” Elsie laughs, relieved that I’m okay with her sexuality. Kalen leans in close. He smells so damn nice that I inhale a little too loudly and I can feel his smug smile as he whispers in my ear.
“Good thing I didn’t come up here just to claim you as my future wife.” He pulls back and hands me a card.
“What the hell is this?” I snap.
“Your uniform is unacceptable. Learn to do your tie, before you end up in detention...weekly.”
He winks at me and walks away, this time taking the stairs. I look at the little card, it’s blue and has nothing written on it. I hold it up to Elsie and she shakes her head.
“Didn’t you read the handbook?” She takes the look on my face as a no. “Blue slips are the worst - or the best - depending on how you look at it. You have detention with Mr Knox.” The hair on the back of my neck prickles. Knox, that’s my stepfather's name. “The best part is he is fine as hell - even I think so, and I don’t like guys - but the worst part is he does early morningSaturday detention. You have to be at the back sports oval by 6 am.”
I wonder if this guy is one of the famous stepbrothers...this could be good. She can’t be referring to my stepfather as ‘fine as hell’ surely?
“Don’t get any ideas, all the popular girls have tried to tempt him, but he isn’t interested. If you want an easy lay, your best bet is to just go for Kalen. He’s the easy brother.” I whip my head back to face her.
“How many brothers are there?” I try not to sound too interested.
“Sawyer is the eldest, he started teaching here last year. Then there’s the twins, Slate and Onyx, but they’re real assholes. Slate thinks he is better than everyone else and Onyx just looks like he wants to murder anyone who looks his way, and well, you met Kalen.”
I nod. I thought these so-called stepbrothers were supposed to be good boys. Somehow, I don’t think my mother knows her stepsons as well as she’s claiming. Why would they be at Knox otherwise? I don't know anything about them, but they don’t scream ‘good boys’ to me.
“Are there other schools around here?” I ask, thinking that maybe they just came here because it is convenient.
“Yes, a few. Though I have heard stories about the Knox boys and why they come here. You have to be invited here, you don’t get to apply. There is a board of old people who review each case. It’s all very hush hush, which is weird really. It’s a school for kids with a rap sheet. Rich or poor, money isn’t an issue here. Maybe the fourth years know more, but us first and second years only get second hand gossip.”
A bell chimes once, and almost all of the students instantly go quiet and take their seats...obviously a few first years don’t getthe memo, or maybe they just don’t care, because they continue chatting regardless.
My new stepdaddy, aka Principal Knox, addresses the whole school: he goes over how important it is to re-read the student handbook and how, by now, everyone should be well acquainted with the rules. I guess school’s been in session for a couple of weeks already but he obviously feels the need to reiterate the basics for someone’s benefit. Maybe all his little pupils here aren’t as reformed as my mother made out.
