Broken Ties (Prequel to The Mentalist Series) Page 5

chance if they’re still officially together. Those two are like magnet and metal. And no, I can’t make it. I’ve got work.”

  “But it’s a night-time thing. You’re not working that late. Come on, you know I need someone to help me fight off the ladies.”

  Cheung’s downturned lips were supposed to make me cave but I couldn’t go. Parties were the worst places for me to be. People do stupid things all the time but when alcohol is thrown into the mix, bad decisions generally escalate. I had to attend one or two events over the years to avoid looking like a recluse, but I hadn’t enjoyed them.

  “Sorry Cheung, not this time. You’re going to have to take on all those lovely ladies yourself.”

  “Your loss. My sources tell me a certain Miss Brice is going to be there too. I’m thinking she might finally look your way if someone loosens her up with some nicely fermented drinks…”

  I hadn’t told Cheung about my encounter with Nora. Some stories weren’t meant to be shared lightly, plus I knew he’d tease me about it until I got pissed off.

  “As tempting as that sounds, I can’t. Maybe you can put in a good word for me. That is if you can escape from under the mob of girls fighting over you.” I winked, hoping light banter would placate him. It worked.

  “Alright, alright. But don’t come crying to me when you hear it was the one time she finally decided to suck face with a guy at a party. That guy might even be me.”

  I laughed and waved my hand in his face when he started making kissing noises. That was one of the many things I liked about Cheung. He never dwelt on stuff, choosing to work his way through life in fleeting bursts of energy. The topic was swiftly changed to some other interest of his and I spent the rest of the bus ride sniggering at his remarks. The woman he’d upset earlier on was desperately trying not to listen to us and I didn’t want to make her journey any more unpleasant.

  When we arrived at school, Cheung and I split up to head to our respective lockers. We didn’t share many classes so lunchtime would be our next chance to hang out. I had PE first thing so I needed to dump my backpack before heading to the changing rooms.

  “Whoa, easy! I didn’t see you there.”

  The heavy smack that landed on my back came shortly after the words. The speaker clearly intended for me to know that this was no accident.

  I spun round, fist clenched as I fought to steady myself. The last time anyone had attempted to accidentally knock me about at school, I’d received a caution and community service. That had been three years ago. In my defence, he’d swung first. It wasn’t my fault that I’d broken his nose. How was I to know that my punch packed so much power?

  Brandon.

  If I thought I’d been mistaken, his smirk confirmed my initial assumption.

  I’d never had any trouble with the footballer before. Despite his behaviour the other night, Brandon was one of the nice guys. Even though he was occasionally known to hang out with some questionable characters, they were his football buddies. He kind of had to be friends with them to keep the team spirit up or something. Brandon was not bully material.

  I eased open my tightened fists.

  “You think you’re some kind of hero, huh?” Brandon leaned in close; I could feel his hot breath on my face.

  Something wasn’t right.

  Ah, of course, I’d manhandled him two nights ago.

  I’d told him not to bother Nora and, from what I’d observed the day before, it looked like that had sunk in. But I hadn’t asked him to forget the incident altogether; there hadn’t been any need for that. All he recalled was that, for some unfathomable reason, I’d humiliated him in front of Nora and she’d chosen me over him. It must have bugged him more since I wasn’t friends with her at school. Maybe it even angered him.

  I wondered if I should risk altering his mind again to get him off my back, but I shook the thought away. He was, sort of, the victim now.

  “No Brandon. I just don’t think it’s cool to follow unwilling girls down alleys.”

  I turned to shut my locker and started to walk away. People were beginning to look at us and I didn’t want the attention.

  “Look,” Brandon stepped in my way and I felt my fists ball up again. “Just because you walk around school acting like you don’t care what people think about you, don’t think I can’t make you wish you were truly insignificant. I see through your smoke screen, Colt.”

  I knew it was all talk, the knots working away in my gut were never wrong, but I let him speak. He needed to get it out of his system.

  “Nora only cozied up to you because that’s what girls like her do when they really want to play up to guys like me. They find the safest possible distraction and latch on to it, just long enough for us to get jealous. You’ll never be anything more to someone like her. Never.”

  Damn, I really must have bruised his ego. Silence was the only response I could think of to quell the matter so I let him stick his face in mine for a little longer. When he realised I wasn’t going to say anything, he straightened up and glanced at the crowd that was beginning to gather around us. Then, adding a final chuckle, he walked away.

  I watched his departing figure until the blood which had rushed to my head began to settle.

  Fine. If that’s the way he wanted to play it.

  “Hey Cheung, wait up. What time did you say that party was again?”

  FOUR

  Nora

  I’ve never been a fan of parties. Actually, that’s not entirely true; I used to love attending them until I turned fourteen. That’s when innocence died a horrible death and parties suddenly became unchaperoned events where the main goal was for people to hook up with each other. Gone were the rhythm-defunct dance moves which left us all giggling at the end of the bubble gum songs we loved so much. Enter awkward slow dancing and general unsightly shenanigans in dimly lit rooms. To be fair, not all parties were that bad, but it kind of got boring when all everyone wanted to do was sneak in booze and fondle each other.

  Keith’s party was no different. We’d been there just over an hour and half of the lights in the room had already been switched off. Fortunate enough not to live in a block of flats like most of us, his parents had converted their basement into a den for him and his older brother. Our cheap alcohol supply was probably thanks to said brother. Who knows where his parents had wandered off to that weekend? And who cared? As long as we kept the noise down, all would be well.

  “Great party, right?” Theresa, one of my track mates, sat beside me on the grey lumpy sofa I’d occupied the second I walked in. My warm soda was nowhere near being finished and I intended to hog it for a little longer.

  “Yeah, great,” I grinned as I raised the plastic cup to my lips. If she thought this was great, our standards were so not on the same level.

  “And Devan’s been staring at you for ages. Maybe he’ll finally get the guts to come over. Urgh, I don’t want to move. You’ll have to go with him, even if all you’re going to do is turn him down.” She laughed at this and Stacey, sitting to my right, high-fived her.

  They were amongst the select few who knew about my dating ban and they thought it was amazing that I stuck to my guns about it. Stacey had only been allowed to start dating last year, but she and Jordan had officially been an item a year before that. In fact, their little romance began at a party not too dissimilar to this one.

  “Crap, I think he’s coming over,” Theresa cringed. “Get ready to scoot.”

  I hadn’t looked Devan’s way when she’d pointed him out initially but now I had to. Crap, he really was heading over to the sofa. And Theresa was right, he had to be coming for me as she was currently in an on-and-off relationship with Malik. I was the only singleton sitting there.

  “I’ll come and drag you back here in two minutes, okay,” Stacey offered with a sympathetic pat on my back. Goodness, could Devan hear any of this?

  “What the…”

  There was a loud thud in the corner, causing our focus to shift from
Devan to the group of people who’d been standing by the door. Whatever was happening was obscured from our vision by a wave of kids rushing over to the scene.

  “Sounds like a fight. Go, go, go!” Theresa pushed me towards the gathering. Other than the lure of underage drinking and the possibility of a snog session, nothing beat a good fight at a party. We were even willing to give up our places on the sofa for first hand viewing of a scuffle. 

  We got to the door just as Paul’s fist connected with Brandon’s jaw. One punch was all it took to floor the footballer. One punch! Gasps from some of the other bystanders told me I wasn’t the only one surprised. Even though I’d seen how easily Paul had handled Brandon before, I didn’t really think he had that kind of power in him. Or that he was a brawler. Other than one stint of trouble a few years back, Paul tended to stay away from conflict. And so did Brandon.

  Something told me whatever they were fighting about was connected to the other night. And there was only one linking factor.

  Me.

  We watched as Paul dropped to his knees to check how much damage had been done. Hospitalizing Brandon was clearly not part of his plan. It was only when he looked up with relief that some of the other football kids snapped out of their shock and started to rush towards him. That was when Paul’s friend, Cheung, called out to him and began to clear a path through the bodies blocking his escape route.

  Paul looked up calmly, almost as if he