{32}✔️

**FLASHBACK

ONE YEAR AGO**

Billie's POV

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I bounced both my legs anxiously as I looked around the office, gripping the arms of the chair and biting the inside of my cheek as I waited for the stupid principal to come in. My mom and dad sat on each side of me, both talking softly and trying to calm me down, but I wasn't hearing anything they were saying.

I'm in deep fucking shit right now, and I have nobody to blame but myself.

Time had passed too fast and too many things had happened. I knew I'd been in a lot of trouble this year, but I didn't know I'd been in this much trouble.

I don't regret a damn thing I've done though. I only do what I know how to do, and I do it damn well too.

I jumped as I heard the door creak open, and then in walked the principal. Mrs. Ayana. She's a real hard ass.

"I'm sure we all know why we're here today." She sighed as she sat down in her chair and scooted it closer to her desk, picking up a large stack of papers. She held them up and shook her head as she let out a small, bitter chuckle. "Let's go over all Billie's disciplinary referrals, shall we?"

"That could take a while." I muttered before crossing my arms over my chest and narrowing my eyes at her.

"I've organized them from petty incidents to full-fledged crimes," she kept her condescending smile on and then put her glasses on the bridge of her nose, clearing her throat before she began to read.

"We've got, ugh...twenty-two write-ups for being on her phone during class, nineteen write-ups for being late to class, seventeen write-ups for being a distraction during class and sixteen for sleeping in class..." She put one of the papers to the side and I leaned over to look at it, noticing it wasn't the actual referrals, obviously, just a paper she'd written on to keep track of them.

"Fourteen for skipping, though I know there should be way more of those, only thirteen for cussing, somehow. Teachers don't usually write that up unless it's absolutely excessive." She raised a brow and looked at me from under her glasses. "Now let's get to the good stuff! Eleven fights before the first semester is even over. And those are only the ones we've actually been able to punish her for. I'm sure if we could see her beating the hell out of students in the bathrooms during the lunch period that number would spike up." She rolled her eyes.

"Definitely." I agreed.

"Hush, Billie." Dad hissed before popping my thigh.

"There was also the food fight started by you and your group of friends, the riot you started at not one, but two sporting events—"

"They weren't riots and I didn't start them."

"I'm skipping around here, but I almost forgot about the gum in your teacher's chair incident."

"It was a harmless prank."

"That Mrs. Lewis quit her job over."

"Teaching isn't for the weak."

"Stop it!" Mom whisper yelled.

"On to more serious offenses, there was the pepper-spraying the teacher's lounge incident, then there was the keying my car incident—" She spat, narrowing her eyes at me. I bit the inside of my cheek and shook my head at her.

"I own up to my shit, always, and I'm telling you that was not me."

"Sure. Then there was the incident where you decided to organize a senior prank...as a sophomore...in September. By the way, egging and spray painting the school? Not a prank, it's a crime, and had your father not given us such a generous amount of money—"

"I'd be in jail. Yeah. We cleaned all that shit up. Why are you bitching?"

"You poured hot sauce in the stew we served in the cafeteria on October 12th, the same day you decided you wanted to start the food fight—"

"I did not start it!"

"—Broke three of the school's surveillance cameras—"

"Which my parents paid for in the first place!"

"—Almost killed Mr. Bryant—"

"I didn't know he was allergic to avocado, who the fuck is allergic to avocado?! I was literally trying to be nice that time!"

"And worst of all, you've partaken in gang activity on several occasions."

I stayed silent. I am absolutely not in a gang and I want nothing to do with a gang. I don't even know how that rumor got started. I guess it's because me and my same group of friends keep fighting with another group of people.

"We've given you warnings, detentions, suspensions, a parole officer...We've given you every chance to prove that you can do better, we've nearly begged you to on several occasions because, if we're being honest, we didn't want to lose the money that your family gives us, but we can not tolerate this behavior anymore. It's too much and it's making our entire school look bad. People are hearing about you and the things you do, Billie, and they're literally opting to send their children to other schools because they don't want to risk sending them here with you."

I sighed as I slumped down in my chair. I should probably be in prison by now, but my family's money ensures that I don't go.

I don't do shit just to get into trouble. I don't actually like being in trouble, it's just what's expected now. I've been given a part to play and I'm playing it.

All the petty shit is entirely my fault, I'll admit that. I do it just because that's what people expect me to do. The fights, though? I don't get into fights just to get into fights. I'm not a bully or anything stupid like that. I might actually be the opposite.

This school does have a shit ton of 'gang' activity, and by gang I mean a group of assholes who think they're cool and frequently go around bullying the hell out of innocent students who don't know how to protect themselves.

I needed a way to make my own money. My parents are rich, but I wanted to be able to pay for my own shit with my own money, so I started my own little business.

Beating the hell out of bullies for people who can't do it themselves.

I get into a lot of fights, I end up winning most of them, and I get paid either way.

I don't know how the fuck I learned to fight so well, but I've only lost three fights and I've had many, many more than that.

This school fucking sucks, especially when it comes to discipline. I'm the perfect example of that. I should've been kicked out a long time ago. I should've been sitting in a jail cell right now, but because of my family's money, I'm not. That's the way it works here. If you're rich you get to do whatever you want and you don't have to worry about any serious consequences. If you're not rich, you're out of luck.

That's why that group of assholes had never been punished for basically forming a gang for the sole purpose of tormenting random people for the fun of it. They're all fucking rich.

The people they target are usually middle or lower class and stand no chance when it comes to getting the justice they deserve, and I'm not a fucking superhero, but I hate bullying and I hate how easy it is for those assholes to get away with the shit they do.

I figure this is the best and most rewarding job I'm ever gonna get. Getting to beat the fuck out of bullies and get paid for it when I'd honestly do it for free any day. I don't charge the people I help that much because they usually can't afford to pay more than a crisp $20, and I feel bad for even taking that from them, but this is a job for me after all.

It's starting to get bad though. I'm starting to get worse. Fighting for so long has definitely made me become desensitized to violence, and fighting with fists had become me fighting with weapons lately. I never use them unless the other person does, but still.

I'd stabbed someone, and that's why I'm here now.

It scared the fuck out of me if I'm honest. How easily I did it, not even thinking before I plunged the knife in her shoulder. I didn't give a shit how scared she looked, how many tears slipped out of her eyes, how many screams she let out as she realized I'd actually done it. I'd actually stabbed her, and without a second thought at that.

I hadn't felt bad as I'd done it and I don't feel bad now. I had to do it or she was going to hurt me. Simple. I just feel...weird. I don't want to be the type of person who can just stab someone and not give a shit.

When I did it, everyone around me went crazy. The kids surrounding us had backed up, shrieking and crying and asking what the hell I was thinking, some rushing to help her as she fell to the ground, crying.

I just wondered why they were being so fucking dramatic.

Yeah, I'd stabbed her, but it's not like she was gonna die. I didn't stab her in the head or in the heart or somewhere really dangerous like that. She was gonna live, albeit her shoulder would be in a lot of pain for a while. But she'd live.

The fact that I was so cold when the whole thing happened...The fact that I still didn't feel any remorse...That's what scared me. I do not like the person I'm becoming.

"—You don't show any remorse for any of your actions! I'm sorry, Billie, but you're not welcome to come back here. I don't know where you're going to go, but it can't be here. You've been expelled."

I wasn't shocked. How could I be?

When we walked out of the office, my mom hugged me and let out a small sigh. "We can home school you for the remainder of the year and then we'll look into new schools for next year, okay?"

"All the stuff I did here? I won't do it at the next school. You know how shit worked here."

They stayed silent as we walked to the car. I intended to stick to what I said. The next school I attend can't be worse than this one. I'm gonna be good, or at least better than I was here.

************

A/N: I have no idea how long I want this book to be, but bitch, we're already 32 chapters in and we've got a lot more to cover. I'll be shocked if I don't end up with 80 chapters for this.