Henchgirl (Dakota Kekoa Book 1) (4 page)

Inside the wall was a clear view of the crowds of teenagers, funneling into the cement block classrooms. The architecture and the fact that the school could not be more visible from the highway, shouted a clear message to any infected or dracon passing: ‘look at our children, you can’t have them.’

At Mabi Academy anyone was admitted, they just had to be human, or in my case, be able to fake being human.

I rocked back on my high tops. “I need to caffeinate. And if I have to run track right now I’ll probably eat-dirt and look like Mrs. Seed after a bender for the rest of the day.”

Missy looked around like our teacher Mrs. Seed could possibly have overheard me

She pouted at me. “I can’t miss first period,” she said, oblivious to the fact I did not invite her.

“Yeah, okay.” Mele said, changing course. “Missy, go distract cotton-head.”

“Will you get me a white mocha if I do?” Missy asked.

“No,” Mele and I said, simultaneously, as we walked back and climbed into the front seats of Mele’s car.

Half-way to ‘Volcanic Coffee,’ our favorite coffee shop, I made Mele pull off into a residential street. I grabbed the bag out of my backpack.

“Why are we stopping? Whose house is this?” Mele said, obviously annoyed.

“My landlord,” I said, counting out stacks of money onto my lap.

“If I did not know that you loved me, I would be pissed that you’re using me for my car. Holy-shit! How much money is that?”

“Twenty five thousand,” I said, distractedly. I stuffed four thousand back into my backpack and put it on her lap, “Watch this for me.”

Even though I hid the strangest, scariest parts of my life from her, I know it was only because we were best friends that she did not point out how screwed up the ‘normal’ side of my life was. All she said was, “This is the kind of shit that makes me seriously hate your mom.”

My landlord opened the door before I even knocked on his small but comfortably cozy one story. He sighed; I could tell from his expression how uncomfortable the man was to see me. He wasn’t that old, maybe early forties, but deep stress wrinkles creased his forehead above his eyebrows. “I was hoping to speak to your mother.” He said, “I did not want to have to leave the note, or call the police. I just…”

I handed him the folder. “It’s okay, Mr. Peterson, I understand. Here, three months’ rent, in cash. My mom says she’s sorry, she can be a bit scattered. Now, could you um, un-evict us?”

He holds the bag far from him, as if it might get him dirty. “The back-rent is five months, and this month is already due.”

“That’s impossible, she said—”

“It’s not only possible; I can prove it, young lady,” he said, defensively.

My eyes stung, my stomach plummeted and I blinked rapidly. How could it be five months unpaid rent plus this month?

“Um, okay.” I said, “My mom can get the other twenty one thousand, I’m sure, but it might take a couple days. Please, could you give us one week?”

I would make the money, somehow.

“Just don’t call the police again for a week, please?” I reiterated.

“This whole thing makes me really uncomfortable,” he said, leaning against the doorjamb and not quite meeting my eyes. “I hate doing this; I’m really not a bad man. I know your mother has five kids and no husband; I was worried when I rented the house to her in the first place. I only rented that house out when the bank threatened to foreclose. And now, I still have to make the payments myself- plus rent out this unit. I just can’t do it.” The message was- he was a good man, at the end of his rope, guilty because he thought my mom could not make her rent payments… if only he knew the truth.

“I have four thousand in the car,” the thought of giving him the rest of the money made me want to curl up on his doorstep and cry- knowing that if I did not pay the electric and water we might live in the dark with no showers as of next Wednesday, but hungry and dirty was better than homeless. “My mother has money,” I lied, knowing she was broke again, but I followed the statement with the truth, “You see, my grandfather is actually the one who pays for our rent, he’s our co-signer…”

“I called your co-signer—”

My lungs and stomach clenched- and I was about to run. My mom had to go into hiding…

Unaware of my panic, my landlord continued, “but after an hour and a half on hold, I hung up. I’ll try again.”

“Please, no.” I whispered the words to keep the desperation out of my voice. “Let me give you the four thousand now, just give me a week I’ll make— I mean get you the money.”

He turned to me, and I realized in my moment of panic, I just gave away… everything. Wow, I was an idiot. He just stared for a long time, then asked, “How old are you?”

“Sixteen.”

“You look younger.”

“I know.”

“Your name is what, Danielle?”

“Dakota.”

“Dakota, keep your college tuition. If you talk to your grandfather and get him to pay the back rent and this months’ rent by Friday, I won’t evict your family. You should be worried about long-division, not rent.” He held the cash back to me.

I stepped back, backing toward Mele’s car. “That money is from my grandfather, not me, I promise. I’ll talk to him after school. Thank you!” I said, opening the car door before he could object again. “See you in a week.”

Before turning onto the main road Mele handed me my backpack, overflowing with cash, and said, “Coffee is on me.”

****

We ended up walking into second period with five coffees, since Juliette texted that she told our physical education teacher that we had women issues and had to run to the store, getting us excused from the absence. She threatened us with ‘divorce’ if we did not get her a double iced latte. And you could not get Juliette anything without getting her identical twin Ophelia the same. You know those kids that threw a fit if they did not get a present at their sibling’s birthday party? Ophelia was like that, except she was sixteen.

The fifth coffee was an unabashed bribe. “One hundred percent Koka, whole milk and one raw sugar,” I said to Mr. Gallagher as I held out the paper cup.

His lips pursed but he accepted the cup with a world-weary, “You girls.”

“Tell me I’m a genius,” Juliette said, as Mele handed her and Ophelia their coffees from a tray.

“Maybe I would if the excuse wasn’t so awkward,” Mele said. “Now coach thinks I had leakage problems or something.”

“Please,” Ophelia said, “I’m drinking here.”

“You’re welcome,” Juliette said.

The soft glow of the touch screen desks lit up sporadically across the classroom as I slipped between rows to my desk. Maneuvering into my seat, I took my first sip of my mocha and it was pure milky heaven.

I took out the stylus for my digital desk and found my favorite one was broken and thus I had to use my old janky one.

Clearing his throat, Mr. Gallagher called our attention to the front where he was busy writing: ‘Dracon Monarchy and Dominion on New Anglo’s Government Today.
What does this mean for you
?’

Turning around to face us, he pushed his glasses up his nose and surveyed us. Mr. Gallagher always had a harried, unkempt look about him; he was probably in his late thirties. He appeared to be the kind of guy able to recite the original New Anglo constitutions verbatim, while still needing his wife to remind him to put his shoes on each morning. He said, “I’m opening this up to discussion. Let’s hear what you think.”

A halfhearted hand rose in the first row.

“Travis,” Mr. Gallagher said.

“Wait Mr. G, I’m confused, isn’t this supposed to be a history class?” Travis said, with his affected wave-rider drawl.

As my broken stylus bounced off of Travis’s head, I was rewarded with a satisfying, “Ouch, what gives bra?”

Mr. Gallagher either did not see or pointedly ignored my stylus. He said, “You bring up a point that helps me tie this discussion topic into the big picture Travis—thank you. The reason we study history, guys, is to?—
understand current events
.” He wrote the last part across the board as he said it. “Now, we always focus on the negatives of having a Dracon king and having the dracons outnumbering humans and holding the highest positions in New Anglo government—for obvious reasons. Can anyone think of any positives?”

Ophelia raised her hand. “There are dracon law-enforcers who can actually prevent Vampires from killing people,” she said when called on.

“Yeah, maybe on the Mainland,” Travis said.

“Thank you Ophelia,” Mr. Gallagher said while writing: ‘legislation protecting humans and enforcement of laws restricting all supernatural creatures.’ “Great. Yes, people always forget that these supernatural creatures existed before the dracons completely dominated the government—dragons were the cause of these creatures, it is true, but dracons also are the only creatures strong enough to keep vampires and other nastier infected in check. In some Europan and Eastern countries where humans still control their governments, humans are killed by vampires frequently and often with no repercussions. Great, anything else?”

As other students around the classroom continued the discussion, my gaze wandered to the cement block walls. The inset lights and sharp lines must have been an attempt at industrial elegance, whereas they just made it feel like we were having class in a cinder-block.

My thoughts kept catching on the enormity of my problem. Three month’s rent was twenty-one thousand and after I pay bills and buy food, I would only have fifteen hundred left of the four thousand in my bag. So, I had to make nineteen and a half thousand.

Back-up and reconnaissance
work for Deagan would pay five hundred dollars a job; so I needed to do… thirty-nine jobs in the next seven days. There was no possible way…

And yes, my grandfather was like a quadrillionaire so we would get another place to stay if we were evicted from this one. But eviction wouldn’t just be ‘eviction’ for my family. My grandfather gave my mother the rent money plus living expenses. My best guess was he gave her about twelve to fifteen thousand a month. She told him that she paid all our bills, I heard her say this; if we were evicted, he would realize that my mother took all of the money instead.

All of it.

She did not even pay for our groceries, I did.

My mother wasn’t even married to his son anymore, barely family in his eyes. Her only value in the family to him was her ability to care for his granddaughters.

My grandfather was not known for his compassion toward humans who in anyway harm the family; and if he found out, I had a pretty good idea about what my grandfather would do to my mother.

“Dakota Kekoa, you usually have something to contribute,” Mr. Gallagher said, waking me from my ruminating. “Anything you would like to share?”

I scanned the digital board in the front of the classroom, there were new comments on the board but it did not look like they had changed topic.

I cleared my throat and smiled at Mr. Gallagher before answering, “Because of the population restrictions in so many countries, resources are no longer scarce?”

“Petroleum and Vervaris for everyone. Great,” Mr. Gallagher said, “Though it is important to note that worldwide there are only population restrictions in humans. Okay, anyone else have anything to add?”

“Mr. G—” Travis said, interrupting Mr. Gallagher from writing my comment on the board. “I’m feeling morally composed by this conversation, like dracons kill people every day- and you’re saying it’s a good thing?”

“It’s morally compromised not composed, dumb ass,” Mele said. “And Mr. G isn’t saying it’s a good thing, he’s just asking us for unbiased opinions. Seriously, don’t raise your hand if you don’t know what’s going on.”

“Mele,” Mr. Gallagher said in an even tone, “I am perfectly able to regulate my own classroom without the use of swearing. And Travis, I apologize; I brought up this topic knowing that it was controversial. Why don’t we move on to the negatives of living in a dracon controlled government?”

“Can I answer? I’ve had my hand up for ‘like’ five minutes?” Juliette said. “I agree with Travis that there are no upsides. The only reason that there is ‘protective legislation’ is because humans make dracons so rich because they tax humans so much.”

“Very good, Juliette.” He paused with one finger up and then said, “Money. Can anyone name another reason that it is in the dracon government’s best interest to keep humans alive? Yes, Alana.”

Alana, whose dyed black hair, choker necklace and black lipstick screamed ‘I wanna be vamp food,’ said in a dramatic voice, “Infected and dracon women can’t have babies. Only dracon boys and human girls can have more dracons. They’re keeping us alive to be their baby factories.”

“Great,” Mr. Gallagher said, his enthusiasm making the statement even more awful. He scrawled across the board, ‘for breeding.’

“That’s not true,” I said, before I thought better of it.

The whole class and Mr. Gallagher turned to me. I’m so off my game today I did the one thing I’ve been trying so hard to avoid for years, calling attention to the fact that I know anything I should not about dracons.

“…the part about only humans being able to have dracons,” I said, uncertainly, “I’m actually not sure if this is true, but I just heard that dracon women with only a little bit of dragon blood, like one-eighth, or something, can…breed…with other dracons.”

“Interesting, Dakota, I did not know that.” But thankfully Mr. Gallagher did not delve into my comment and continued with, “So why do humans have so many more rights in the State of Mabi than humans in Mainland New Anglo? What has kept the Mabi state-government predominantly human?”

“Keanu’s dad,” a jock in the back row said and then shouted, “Yeah, Keanu.”

Mele elbowed me and winked.

“I was thinking more: big picture, thank you Michael…”

“He’s Auli’s dad too,” Ophelia hissed at the jock.

Yes, Auli and Keanu Hale. Just hearing their names quickened my heart’s pace. Keanu, also known as ‘one of the gods’ or simply as ‘god’ by the female population of Mabi Academy, was our high school quarterback along with being one of two professionally sponsored wave-riders currently enrolled; the other was his best friend Hunter Bryant. Keanu and his sister Auli, who was in my year, were the sole reason I attended Mabi Academy, and proving to be my toughest assignments ever.