though I never had to work hard for pussy, this just cut out the middle shit. I flashed a smile to the group standing near them.
“Hey girls, my friend here is busy, but these arms aren’t.” Now, most people would think that was the biggest dick thing to say, but lo and behold, two girls giggled and came over, hugging my side tightly. Mission accomplished.
“Well, girls. We’ve got class now, but let me walk you to yours first. See, I’m a gentleman, after all.”
The best part of summer was the short uniforms. Free-range perving all around. It wasn’t until I was waiting for Bea at the bus stop that I noticed a girl from her campus. We made eye contact and the hottie blonde came over to me.
“Hi.” I grinned. “You come here often?” She giggled and shook her head.
“Not every day, but I will be if I know you’re here.” She didn’t even pick up on my cheesy line, but hey, she was game.
“Well, honey, you know who I am?”
“You’re Alex, right?” She smiled.
“You spoken for?” I winked at her.
“Not anymore.”
“That’s fine by me,” I said, wrapping my arm around her shoulder. I grabbed my phone and texted Bea, letting her know to leave without me. I had someone I had to get to know.
Chapter Four
“Inflamed the minds of everyone against me;
And those who were inflamed, inflamed Augustus,
Tis all my happy honours were turned to sorrow.”
Inferno XIII lines 67–70
Trice
Late autumn, 2006
All I wanted was to make it to the library before they found me. I walked briskly towards the far building, clutching my backpack, while eating my lunch quickly with my other hand. Looking around, I noticed familiar groups of people, but had yet to spot my friends. I hated walking by myself around here.
I nearly tripped over my own feet as a figure suddenly stood in my path, blocking my view.
“Beatrice, ya wog! Got that smelly salami in ya roll again?” I sucked in a quick nervous breath as my eyes made contact with Stacey. I was trying to get away from these cows, but here they were.
“What’s that?” She leant forward, cupping her ear with her left hand. “Salami got your tongue, has it?” Peering into my sandwich, her mouth twisted up in disgust as she jeered, “A bit of fat salami like your dad’s dick? Can’t believe you eat that shit.”
I pulled my sandwich closer. It was ham and salad. No salami—I never brought salami to school. As much as I loved eating it, it wasn’t worth the hassle. That broke my mum’s heart as she and my father made it every year, and every year I would pretend I didn’t like it. Even by eating it in the safety of my own home, I had convinced myself that they would know. The shame I felt lingered
on my skin.
“She probably doesn’t understand us; she speaks wog at home. Fuckin’ wogs. Coming here and taking our jobs. Look at her; she’s fuckin' blue-eyed. She’s a faker,” Kristen joined in.
Yep, the same old derogatory sledge. We were in ’06 and they still acted like I was fresh from the boat. I was born here, yet they managed to make me feel like an outsider. They were ignorant of other cultures, especially migrants. The migrants from Italy in our hometown were dark skinned and dark haired. We were Northern Italian and, as a result, I was blue-eyed. They just expected that all Italians, Turks, and Greeks were dark haired and dark eyed. Idiots.
I clutched my bag and stepped around Stacey, with the direction of the bin in mind. I raised my arm to throw my sandwich in there, when all of a sudden, hands pushed my back and an ankle shot out in front of my legs, causing me to trip and land on my hands and knees on the asphalt. I pulled my hands up to my face and saw the instant cuts and abrasions on my palms. My knees were no better, and trails of blood began running down my legs, staining my white socks.
“Watch where you’re going,
“Hey girls, my friend here is busy, but these arms aren’t.” Now, most people would think that was the biggest dick thing to say, but lo and behold, two girls giggled and came over, hugging my side tightly. Mission accomplished.
“Well, girls. We’ve got class now, but let me walk you to yours first. See, I’m a gentleman, after all.”
The best part of summer was the short uniforms. Free-range perving all around. It wasn’t until I was waiting for Bea at the bus stop that I noticed a girl from her campus. We made eye contact and the hottie blonde came over to me.
“Hi.” I grinned. “You come here often?” She giggled and shook her head.
“Not every day, but I will be if I know you’re here.” She didn’t even pick up on my cheesy line, but hey, she was game.
“Well, honey, you know who I am?”
“You’re Alex, right?” She smiled.
“You spoken for?” I winked at her.
“Not anymore.”
“That’s fine by me,” I said, wrapping my arm around her shoulder. I grabbed my phone and texted Bea, letting her know to leave without me. I had someone I had to get to know.
Chapter Four
“Inflamed the minds of everyone against me;
And those who were inflamed, inflamed Augustus,
Tis all my happy honours were turned to sorrow.”
Inferno XIII lines 67–70
Trice
Late autumn, 2006
All I wanted was to make it to the library before they found me. I walked briskly towards the far building, clutching my backpack, while eating my lunch quickly with my other hand. Looking around, I noticed familiar groups of people, but had yet to spot my friends. I hated walking by myself around here.
I nearly tripped over my own feet as a figure suddenly stood in my path, blocking my view.
“Beatrice, ya wog! Got that smelly salami in ya roll again?” I sucked in a quick nervous breath as my eyes made contact with Stacey. I was trying to get away from these cows, but here they were.
“What’s that?” She leant forward, cupping her ear with her left hand. “Salami got your tongue, has it?” Peering into my sandwich, her mouth twisted up in disgust as she jeered, “A bit of fat salami like your dad’s dick? Can’t believe you eat that shit.”
I pulled my sandwich closer. It was ham and salad. No salami—I never brought salami to school. As much as I loved eating it, it wasn’t worth the hassle. That broke my mum’s heart as she and my father made it every year, and every year I would pretend I didn’t like it. Even by eating it in the safety of my own home, I had convinced myself that they would know. The shame I felt lingered
on my skin.
“She probably doesn’t understand us; she speaks wog at home. Fuckin’ wogs. Coming here and taking our jobs. Look at her; she’s fuckin' blue-eyed. She’s a faker,” Kristen joined in.
Yep, the same old derogatory sledge. We were in ’06 and they still acted like I was fresh from the boat. I was born here, yet they managed to make me feel like an outsider. They were ignorant of other cultures, especially migrants. The migrants from Italy in our hometown were dark skinned and dark haired. We were Northern Italian and, as a result, I was blue-eyed. They just expected that all Italians, Turks, and Greeks were dark haired and dark eyed. Idiots.
I clutched my bag and stepped around Stacey, with the direction of the bin in mind. I raised my arm to throw my sandwich in there, when all of a sudden, hands pushed my back and an ankle shot out in front of my legs, causing me to trip and land on my hands and knees on the asphalt. I pulled my hands up to my face and saw the instant cuts and abrasions on my palms. My knees were no better, and trails of blood began running down my legs, staining my white socks.
“Watch where you’re going,
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