Page 39 of He Hate Me

Gio is the only person in the bathroom when I get there. I pull out my knife and flick it open. I love this thing. It’s an all-black spring-loaded tactical knife with a four-inch blade. It looks scary and it’s sharp as fuck, too. Gio is whistling and doesn’t notice me until he turns towards the sinks to wash his hands and spots me in the mirror. He jerks around in surprise.

“Oh, hello,” he says. The corners of his mouth rise as he starts to smile, then fall when he sees the knife. His face pales as a grin spreads across my face. “What…what’s up?”

“You’re really stomping on my nerves, you know that.”

“I’m sorry,” he pleads. “I don’t know what you want.”

“First you mess with Mello⁠—”

“That was an accident.”

“And now you’re talking shit about Deja?”

“I’m just joking around, man. It’s just...” His words trail off when I press the tip of the knife to his side. It’s sharp enough that it pierces his shirt and the top layer of skin. His eyes bug out in fear.

“You and I both know you didn’t sleep with Deja.”

He nods, his cheeks turning red in stark contrast to his clammy skin.

“If I ever hear a bad word about her out of your mouth, I’m going to demonstrate for you exactly how sharp my knife is? Capisce?”

“Yes, of course. I won’t say anything about her again. I’m sorry.”

“I do want you to say one thing, though?”

“What?”

“That you made the whole thing up because you’re a pathetic loser she wouldn’t spit on if you were on fire. Tell them the truth—that you blew it with her, and you were lying to compensate for how badly she humiliated you.”

“I can’t tell them that.”

“Really?” I ask, running the knife up his ribcage. He tries to back up, but he’s sandwiched against the sinks. He starts trembling, his breathing jerky and shallow. What a wuss.

“Okay,” he says, “I’ll tell them. I’ll tell them I was lying. I swear. And I’ll never say anything bad about her or even talk to her unless I have to.”

“Good. Because if you don’t, I’m going to make you regret it.”

I fold and pocket my knife, a little disappointed at how easily he folded. But as long as I’m here…

I whip my arm back and punch him in the solar plexus as hard as I can. He doubles over, his hand on the sink the only thing holding him up. A hoarse groan issues from his lips, giving me at least a tiny bit of the thrill I was hoping for.

Unhurriedly, I return to the table to find Rourke on his phone. I sit down and sip the last of my iced tea through a straw. Rourke looks up as Gio stumbles by, clutching his stomach.

“Nice,” he says. “Wanna bounce?”

I nod. I don’t need to hear Gio fulfill his end of the bargain. If he doesn’t, I’ll have even more fun teaching him why he should have.

I get into Devin’s office by the end of the week. With the device Anton gives me I’m able to open the office safe. There’s a shocking amount of cash inside and stock certificates. That much bread is tempting, but I can’t risk getting caught. Anton would fry me. I photograph everything. The most promising find is a little bag of metal keys. They look like the keys to lockboxes and at least one is a safe deposit box key with a leather tag that reads 0437. I lay them all out on a piece of paper and photograph them. It’s pretty easy to get key copies made from pictures—there’s even an app for it—but I figure I’ll let Anton handle that.

Saturday, I have nothing to do. I can’t search without drawing attention to myself and I’m not doing homework. Even Deja doesn’t do homework on Saturdays. She has people over in the afternoon, as usual, watching a rom com on the TV in the family room and throwing popcorn everywhere. I try sitting with them but that lasts all of five minutes. Shelby keeps saying the most inane things possible and even though I know I need to keep my distance, the temptation to go over and kiss Deja till she passes out from lack of oxygen is fierce.

I figure I’ll do a little extra credit. Not for school, for Anton. When I mentioned hanging out with Rourke, Anton asked me to get closer to him and his friend Javi. I figure now is as good a time as any to reach out. Deja may think she’s the queen of Briarwood, and in a way, she is, but she can’t touch the kings. These guys are the kind of rich Devin can only dream of. Rourke van der Hoff’s dad is part of an old money banking family and Javier de la Garza’s family was lucky enough to get out of Venezuela early and with most of their oil wealth intact. I know Javi is here because his mother’s family is originally from around here, but why the son of a European banker is at some random midwestern high school, I don’t know.

I invite Rourke and Javi to a pickup soccer game at the field near Devin’s house. It’s on the other side of the woods, part of a big public park. I invite a bunch of other guys too, including Von and Mello, even though I know Mello’s not back on his feet, I want to include him. He’s a good kid and I still feel guilty about him getting hurt. He’s on the A squad with Rourke and Javi, and I don’t think it hurts for him to hang around them.

I walk over to the field with all my gear in a duffle and get there around 3:00 pm. I’m still kinda pissed that Devin won’t get me a car. He’d be paying with Anton’s money, anyway, though of course he doesn’t know I know that. Maybe I can just ask Anton directly, but I need to deliver for him first. There’s probably enough money in the safe to buy a car. I walk past Javi’s Porche and feel a pang of embarrassment. A part of me hates being around all these rich kids. They make me feel small, and with their years of private schooling, stupid too. But another part of me is enjoying casual access to expensive food and alcohol and fast cars.

The pickup game starts out pretty casual, just guys messing around and having fun. But once we actually start playing, the competition comes out. Rourke and Javi are crazy good, even better than they are at school games. I hold my own, but some of the other guys are struggling to keep up.