A uniform? You’ve got to be kidding me, is what I thought when my father showed me the pamphlet of the new private high school he is making me attend.

On that pamphlet, two kids with a big smile, white teeth and empty eyes were looking back at me, gesturing to come join them. They both wore a white shirt with a tie for the boy, and a bow for the girl, attached to their collar. The girl wore a navy blue skirt - the kind I’ve always seen private high school girls wear, the one that they all wear higher than supposed to. The boy was wearing a boring navy blue pants. After seeing those two students - who I am sure are just models who don’t even attend the school - I knew that I loved and hated this uniform.

Hated it, because I had to wear it, and loved it, because girls had to wear this long-but-worn-unexpectedly-short skirt.

I wore the tie only on the first day - which was long and boring, filled with bouncy seniors expressing how much they loved the school and how much We will love it too, saying the school motto every time it was possible - Because here, we believe in You!. 

Liam and I aren’t in the same class, since he is a senior and I’m a sophomore, but sometimes we would end up in the same rooms during the first day tour. Each time, he was chatting with someone or talking with his bouncy senior tour guide. This a*shole seemed to be enjoying himself.

Although, I did see him cringe at the school motto more than once.

“Well this isn’t so bad,” he had said during lunch. He had ditched his newly made friends to eat with me. “People are pretty nice.”

“Oh yeah, and they believe in You!” I answered, rolling my eyes.

He chuckles, “they’re just really enthusiastic about their school. Maybe their joy and bounciness will rub on you, or do you plan on being a loner here too?”

“That’s none of your business. Why don’t you go back to your preppy group of friends, before they realize who you are.”

My grandfather had the marvelous idea of calling the casino “The Cain Casino”, meaning that my name is automatically associated with it and the whole mafia business. But for Liam, it’s different. His father’s name is attached to the casino as well but his mother insisted that Liam takes her name, so he could have a normal childhood without being associated with all the illegal things they did. They wanted to give Liam the opportunity to choose whether or not he wanted to be a part of it. So no one knows who Liam Andrews is.

But everyone despises Caleb Cain.

“They won’t find out just because I am talking to you,” he answered, “besides, I will show them that I’m not a piece of sh*t first, so no matter what they hear, they’ll know who I really am. Their judgement won’t be clouded by who my father is.”

“Who you really are? Oh come on, you are a piece of sh*t.”

He clenched his jaw, he seemed hurt.

“Well, at least I am trying,” he sighed, “I’m going to let you eat your sandwich alone, since you clearly don’t want any company.” He stood up and went back to his lunch table.

What made him think I wanted company, or that I wanted his company? I thought. Changing high schools was already a hassle, but knowing that I’ll see him everyday in the corridors is even worse. The less I see his smug face the better. Hopefully, he is a senior and will leave for college in a year.

I’ll just have to find a way to ignore him until then.

It’s now been two weeks since school started. My father changed our working schedules - it is now 9pm to 12pm during the week, so we can get some sleep before going to school, and 9pm to 3am again on Fridays and Saturdays. This means that Colby and I have to go back to our old meeting schedule, the one we had before summer break, where we only meet when I finish at 3am.

At first I hated it. I really liked meeting with Colby every night, but it seemed like he started to get bored of it. Now, he seems much happier - and excited - to see me. The fact that I only see him at the end of the week also gives me the strength to go through it.

School isn’t going so well. As expected, everyone knew the Cain Casino and associated me with it. No one talks to me, they even avoid me.

Somehow, it has become more and more difficult to wake up in the morning. I feel a weight coming on my chest when I hear my alarm go on and it’s hard to push it away. 

But I can’t stay home. If I don’t get up and get myself to school my dad will be mad at me - more than he already is. So every morning I force myself out of bed, trying to remember that at the end of the week, it will be the weekend and I’ll see Colby. 

It is now 5pm and classes have ended. I can hear the annoying school bell mixing with the one of the neighboring private high school.

As I leave the building, I see Liam leave as well.

F*ck, if he sees me we will walk back home together I think, and today was already sh*t so let’s not make it worse with his presence.

Our parents being best friends and work partners, they decided that living next to each other was a good idea. So, unfortunately, Liam and I leave ten minutes away by foot from each other. 

I walk quickly in the other direction. It’s okay, I think, I’ll take a detour. It’s not like I am in a rush to go back home anyway. 

“Caleb Cain!”

I turn around. I didn’t realize that I’d walked behind the neighboring high school. 

“Caleb Cain,” she shouts, “right? Remember us?”

God, just say it louder for the people in the back?

I get closer so she’ll stop screaming my name. As I walk towards them, I see four people sitting on the ground in a back alley, three boys and a girl, hidden. All of them are smoking.

“Oh yeah,” I answer, “you’re the cocaine and ecstasy kids.”

She opens her eyes wide, as if I had said something magical - or maybe she is just happy that I remembered her - and stands up. “Yes, it’s us!” She walks towards me. “My name is Ava,” she points at the handsome dark-skinned boy, “this is Malcolm,” then at the curly blond and the brown-haired one, “and this is Gabriel and Jonah. We all go to this school.” She points at the other private high school. 

I do remember them spending an excessive amount of money on drugs, so of course they had to be rich private high school kids. Hopefully, I can use them to buy myself some time so Liam can get ahead of me.

“What kind of school is it anyway?”

“Our school’s specialized in literature and languages” she answers with a shrug. “The four of us study English, Spanish and an other language of our choice. Malcolm and I chose French, Jonah chose Chinese and Gabe, Japanese.”

Studying languages sounds like a waste of time. I hum as a response.

“You’re new,” says Malcolm, “everyone’s talking about you and an Andrews guy.” He scoffs, “not for the same reasons though.” He raises his brows as if he was trying to get some kind of reaction from me.

Does he feel threatened by my presence? Or it is because Ava has been eyeing me with adoration since I arrived?

I give him a fake smile in return. “I bet,” I step back, “I guess I’ll get going then.”

“Wait,” Ava says as she grabs my arm, “we are here every day after school, if you want to join us.” I look at her hand in disgust and she instantly moves away. “Sure,” I answer, “if I have nothing better to do.” I like how desperate she seems to keep me here. It’s not the first time people cling on to me because of who I am. Judging by her attitude, she likes the attention. She wants to be friends with me so she can show off, parade me on her arm like a newly bought designer bag. But if my intuition is good, that Malcolm guy will not like that.

Their group dynamic has piqued my interest. I would love to mess them up.

Little did I know it would be the other way round.

****

The moment I passed through the front door, I feel a weight drop on my shoulders.

“Caleb! Don’t you look dumb with your uniform,” says Esteban, his arm on my shoulders. Rafael, James and Colby circle me.

“Wait,” he sniffs my neck loudly, like a dog would, “you smell like tobacco. Did you smoke?”

I push him away, quickly eyeing Colby. “I didn’t. I hung out with people who were.”

“So you just stood there and watched? That’s embarrassing,” retorts Colby. I can’t help but look down at my feet.

“Right?,” keeps going Esteban, “we should teach you, so you’re not embarrassing yourself next time.”

I have always seen my brothers and his friends smoke. I always associated it with something that they did, that grown-ups did. I’ve put them on a pedestal for some reason, and smoking was something “cool” that only they did.

But if Colby thinks that me not smoking is embarrassing, maybe I should give it a try? I would hate to make him feel ashamed of me. “Sure, teach me.”

Esteban and Rafael exchange a look with a grin - the same they had before they killed Jumbo. Colby is smiling too.

They take me outside and Rafael takes out a pack of cigarette out of his jacket’s pocket. He hands me one then buries his hands in his pockets again. “F*ck,” he says, “I don’t have my lighter.”

“It’s okay,” answers Colby, taking a black lighter out of his back pocket, “I got it.”

I place the cigarette between my lips. Colby gets closer and takes one of my hand and places it next to it, to cover the flame of the lighter from the wind. He then covers the other side, so the lighter and the end of my cigarette are in a hand cocoon. His eyes are fixed on mine as he lights it up and I feel my cheeks getting red.

His eyes are not filled with embarrassment anymore - but with envy.

I take my first puff and, as expected, I cough. All of them laugh, except Colby. He takes a cigarette for himself. “Try again,” he orders. I put the cigarette back in between my lips and he grabs my shirt, puts the end of his cigarette on mine. He sucks air in and out from it and lights it. He takes a puff, as a demonstration. I do the same and I feel the smoke go into my lungs, hot and toxic, then come out as a cloud. 

“There you go, it wasn’t that bad, was it,” says Rafael, taking one for himself as well. “What do you think?”

I look at the rolled thing between my fingers.

Maybe the cigarette also made me look at them differently. There is this stance that they take - this behavior they adopt when they smoke. I admire it, I’ve always had. I bet that’s why they smoke in the first place, because they saw what I saw when our father was smoking, and they wanted to feel the power it gives.

Now it’s my turn.

I look up to Colby, who grins. He knows what I am thinking, and he seems proud of me.

“I like it,” I finally respond.