Start a Revolution

"Now," Drew says the second the last kid was walking out the library door, "tell me how the fuck you managed to weasel your way out of getting suspended." Her hands on her hips were gripping a little too tight, but she barely noticed it.

John smirks, leaning his shoulder against the bookcase beside him. "Don't tell me you aren't thrilled at the idea of working with me every day after school."

"Oh, yeah, so thrilled," she spits with as much sarcasm as possible.

"Let's just say," he continues like Drew had never spoken, "that I have a very close relationship with Mr. Higgins, and he let me off with community service. I was skeptical about working with the Toybox program, but who doesn't love spending all their time with children?" The lazy smile on his face showed Drew that he was making fun of her.

"You prick!" she hisses. "This is the only place I found to get away from you! Now you ruined it!"

He tsks her, shaking his head. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. I can turn you into Mr. Higgins if you aren't nice to me. I don't think you want a referral on your permanent record."

The short girl narrows her eyes. "I hate you."

He brings a hand to his lips, moving it down and making a puckering noise. "I love you too, Hemingway. See you around." John gives her a flirty wave before picking up his backpack and galloping out of the library.



Drew walks through her front door, letting out a deep breath. She couldn't stop thinking about what had happened in the library, and it was just getting her angrier and angrier.

The smell of pot roast floated toward her, and she knew her mom was making dinner. She wanders into the kitchen, spotting her mother in front of the stove, stirring what looked like gravy in a pot. Drew's baby brother, Mitch, sat at the table, coloring in his coloring book. And she could hear the sound of FOX news blaring from the living room, where her father was sitting in his recliner.

"Home sweet home," she sighs, ruffling Mitch's head as she passes him.

"Drew," her mom says, licking her finger where she got some gravy on it, "could you get me some butter? I ran out and I have to keep stirring this." She nods to the stove.

The younger girl nods, walking toward the fridge to get it out. "Hey mom?" she asks tentatively, making sure she was quiet enough so her dad wouldn't hear her. "Can I ask you something?" Drew sets the butter down on the counter beside her mom.

"Sure, anything," her mother says distractedly, turning the heat of the stove down.

Drew takes a deep breath, preparing herself. "Why do we hate the O'Callaghan's so much?"

Her mom's scream echoed around the house as her hand slipped, burning herself on the stove top. But it wasn't just her hand that was shaking, her whole body shook. She holds her hand close to her body as Drew's dad rushes into the kitchen, his tie flipped over his shoulder from running so fast.

"What happened?" he gasps.

"I - I asked mom a question and..." Drew stutters out.

"I burned myself on the stove on accident," her mom finished hurriedly, cutting Drew off from explaining. "It's not too bad, but I think we should go to the hospital." She avoids eye contact with Drew as she moves down the hallway to the door.

Her dad watches his wife go. "What did you ask her?" he speaks lowly, making sure Mitch didn't hear, who was already crying from the loud scream.

"I..." the teenager trails off, before inhaling deeply. "I asked her about an English essay."

Her dad stays silent, looking doubtful, but lets it slide anyway. He follows his wife to the door.

As they left, Drew picked up her three-year-old brother, rocking him back and forth to stop his crying. But she couldn't help but wonder why her mom didn't answer her. Yeah, she was taught to hate the O'Callaghan's, but why did she hate them?



"So," Kennedy leans back in his chair, "did you get drilled from Higgins?"

John shrugs, running his fingers over his guitar. "Nope. I convinced him to give me community service." The triumphant grin on his face was almost contagious. "But, you won't believe who my community service is with."

"Tina Sanders?" Garrett asks.

"Ew, no," John shivers. "Drew Hemingway."

Kennedy sat up straight immediately, his eyes wide. "How the fuck did that happen? Aren't you in trouble because of Drew?" John's friends were almost giddy with excitement.

"Yeah, but the community service he gave me is working at Toybox for three months," John answers, rolling his pick between his fingers. "And Drew happens to work with Toybox everyday after school." He smirks again, his lips pulled up in malice. "How lucky am I, huh?" He brings the pick down to meet the strings.

"I don't think you should try anything funny," Garrett warns. "She could get you in even more trouble."

"No, she won't," John shrugs. "She doesn't have the balls."

The boy smiles at this. His time at Toybox will give him the perfect opportunity to make his sworn enemy hell. And he can't wait to start doing it.