Joan's cheek stung. And as blood surged to her cheek, so did anger. Why did high school kids like to pick so many fights? Was high school not for studying?
"My, my, you might have anger issues at this point," PK snickered from its spot on her shoulder.
Joan sent it a dirty look as her brows kissed. Today, everything seemed to be pissing her off.
Expressionlessly, Joan wrapped her arms around Isaac's head, locking her hands behind his skull.
To any onlooker, Joan and Isaac seemed like the normal pubescent couple in an awkward hug. But instead of blushing, Isaac's eyes widened to the side of saucers.
If anything, it was Navier, beside them, who was blushing furiously.
Joan's forearms pressed against the side of Isaac's neck, cutting off the blood circulation to his head.
And then she squeezed. Hard.
Instantly, Isaac felt his head burn from the lack of blood. His cheeks reddened in pain as the painful pressure accumulated in his head, threatening to explode.
Isaac squirmed fearfully, attempting to free himself but to no avail. Just who was this chick? How did she know about the Muay Thai clinch?
Isaac punched her stomach, but his fist wasn't able to generate enough momentum to deal Joan much damage. He was too close to her to land a hard hit. Instead, Joan chuckled and raised her knee, threatening to knee his face. She could smash in his face at any moment now.
He winced at the thought of a broken, crooked nose that'd haunt him for the rest of his life.
His head burned as the lack of blood to his brain began to blur his vision. Fear settled in his stomach and spread to his limbs. Black spots danced in his vision—his private, black and white Cirque du Soleil show. Panicking, Isaac furiously tapped Joan's forearms, begging her to let go of him.
"I'm feeling nice today," she whispered in his ear, her hot breath tickling the shell of his ear. "So I won't kill you." Joan released her iron grip on Isaac's neck.
She stepped back, forcing an awkward smile onto her sore cheeks. Innocently, she strode away with Navier following her on his leash. From the school gate, Turner waved at them excitedly, ushering them to hurry up, so they could hurry and play Mortal Strike before the modules filled up.
Isaac stared at her retreating figure in shock, coming to a sudden realization. It wasn't Navier who caused the ruckus in M High School. It was that girl—Rem Oaks.
He gently rubbed the sides of his neck, rolled it out, and took a deep breath of fresh air. There'd be a garish bruise on his neck tomorrow, something his mother would something question about if she was sober.
But she never was.
"Fuck," he whispered to himself. He almost got beaten by a girl. How embarrassing.
"Yo, man. What was that? Is she your girl?" one of the four boys who tagged along smirked.
Waves of laughter erupted from the boys, excluding Isaac, who scowled at them.
"Go home, pricks," he spat.
"I thought we wanted M High School. We were gonna get that Navier kid, no?"
"Change of plans." Isaac shoved his chilled fingers into his pockets and trudged away.
He ignored the confused yelps of the boys who tagged behind him. Spinning around he said, "I thought I told you to go home."
"Eh, you were serious?"
"Do I look like I joke around?" Isaac scowled. He spun on his heel and sped up to lose the boys.
***
"Ma'am?" Isaac called out.
"Be patient! I'll be right there!" a scratchy voice replied.
On the first floor of Isaac's apartment building was the landlady's office. He sat inside on the plush cushion before her wooden desk. Trinkets from the Americas and Europe decorated her desk, and a picture of her and her son sat on the corner. Isaac stared at it, envy filling his lungs instead of oxygen. He wanted a mother who would love him like that.
The silver frame reflected the fluorescent lights on the ceiling. And on the corner of the frame, Isaac could see his minuscule reflection staring back at him.
His midnight hair was ruffled, sticking up in all directions. The first two buttons of his uniform were unbuttoned revealing his sharp collarbone and tanned skin.
The bruises from Rem's Muay Thai clinch already began to wrap around his neck as a choker.
He looked like a gangster and a school bully, someone who would be addicted to drugs and alcohol in the future. However, Isaac never wanted to end up like his mother, who laid inebriated on the couch 24/7.
Eventually, the landlady exited the kitchen connected to her office and sat before Isaac.
"I'm here to pay rent," Isaac said frankly.
The landlady hummed, her spider-like fingers tapping over her keyboard. "You owe 1400," she said, her gum smacking against the roof of her mouth.
Isaac froze. "1400? I-I thought it was 700 per month."
The landlady's original pleasant expression turned sinister. Leaning in, she spat, "You didn't pay last month's rent, either. I've been generous to let you stay without your rent."
Speckles of spit flew from her mouth, a few landing on Isaac's cheek, and he didn't dare to move to wipe it off.
Lowering his head, he mumbled, "I-I only have 700. I'm sorry. Next month, I'll have all the money."
"That's what you said last time," the landlady humorlessly laughed. "Did you think I would forget, huh?" As she spoke, she gradually became louder. And her voice was the only thing that filled Isaac's brain.
Her loud voice bounced off the walls of her office, and Isaac was sure the tenants could hear her screaming,
"I promise. I'll get it to you next month. Just one more month. You know my mom and I are struggling."
A burning sensation spread from his cheek as Isaac's head snapped to the right. Blood oozed from the lacerations her acrylic nails left behind on his cheek.
His eyes narrowed in both anger and humiliation. "Bitch," he mumbled to himself.
His curse didn't escape the ears of his landlady, and another slap landed on his cheek. "If you're not going to pay, get the fuck out of my apartment. Pack up right now. I'll see you out."
Furious, the landlady stood from her chair, ready to see this gangster out.
Twinges of fear began to spread throughout Isaac who fell to his knees, prostrating himself on the floor. "Please! One more month!"
This apartment was the only thing he had left. If he and his mother were evicted, he'd have nowhere to go. And Isaac didn't dare to bring his mother to the slums, where the poor living conditions would most definitely shorten her lifespan.
Silence befell the room. "Look up," the landlady said.
Obediently, Isaac raised his head from the floor.
Beep!
The green lights of a face scanner flickered over his features, constructing an accurate 3D image.
"One more month," the landlady growled. "Then you'll be out on the streets with that alcoholic."
"Thank you, thank you, thank you," Isaac whimpered as he scurried outside her office, gently closing the door behind him.
When he escaped the prison, he leaned back against the door. He looked up to the sky, as if attempting to find the god who supposedly loved them all. Well, God clearly didn't love Isaac if he dealt him such a shitty life.
Why did he have to struggle like this? It would have been nice to be born to a rich family who spoiled their children.
It would have been nice to just have a normal life. Isaac yearned to live in downtown, which housed a plethora of opportunities. If only.
Tears pricked at Isaac's eyes as he squatted in the elevator. He knew very well that he couldn't make next month's rent. He couldn't even feed himself, so how could he pay the rent?
Crestfallen, Isaac dragged his feet back to his apartment. As he stood outside the door, he wondered if this would forever be his life: going hungry and never being able to pay rent.
He pressed his key into the lock and pushed open the door. As always, a dark apartment and an eerie silence greeted him.
"Home," he whimpered. "Welcome home," he choked to himself, slipped off his shoes and made his way to the living room.
As per usual, a body lay sprawled across the couch. Empty bottles scattered the floor, beer stains marred the carpet, and the smell of smoke made Isaac take a step back.
Had she been smoking? After two years, his mother had fallen back into her nicotine addiction. This time, he wasn't sure she'd be able to escape.
It seemed that Isaac left the hell that was school only to return to the hell that was called home.