Branded (Fall of Angels #1)

“Well …”

“I don’t need the lies, please,” my papa says. “Just take it.”

“I’m glad you’re ready to pay off the loan.”

Loan? What loan? Since when does my papa take money from people? Why don’t I know any of this? Fuck.

“Happy to do business with you,” Uncle Jo says. I don’t even need to see him to know he’s smiling. But it’s not a good one, that I can tell.

“That’s the last of it, right?” my papa asks.

“Of course. But if you ever need more, you know where to find me.”

“I’ll pass on that offer, thank you,” my papa replies, his voice just as stern as when he badgers me about something bad I did. “Goodbye.”

He’s sure quick to cut the conversation short.

“Good luck with the shop, Ahiga.”

Ahiga? Since we’ve moved here, no one ever calls my papa by his Native name.

Everything goes silent until a final jingle is audible.

After a few more seconds of waiting, my papa suddenly says, “You can come out now.”

Shit.

I enter the room again. My papa doesn’t look too pleased when he sees me. “Sorry,” I say, trying not to anger him even more.

“It’s okay,” he says, blinking a couple of times. “It’s only natural for you to be curious. Especially with family.” He swallows after saying that last word.

“How did you know?” I ask.

He snorts. “Like I wasn’t young once too.” He puts his hand on my cheek and squeezes softly.

I lean back and cringe. “Papa, I’m not a kid anymore.”

“I know … I know. You’ve grown up so fast.”

“Why was Uncle Jo asking for money?” I ask.

“Ah, it’s no big deal,” my papa says, looking away. “He just came to collect the debt I owed.”

Debt. That sounds harsh.

“Why did you owe him?” I keep asking. “Papa? Did he … own this shop?”

“He doesn’t. It’s in my name. But he did give me the money to buy it.” He clears his throat. “But that’s all in the past now. I don’t want you to worry about anything.”

He smiles, but it’s a reluctant one. Like a mask he hides behind.

He always says those words, but they’re never true.

And judging from how they parted ways, I wonder if I’m ever going to see Uncle Jo again.

“Is Uncle Jo ever coming back to visit us? Are we ever going back to the reserve?” I ask. “What about the rest of our family?”

“Perhaps … it’s probably for the best …” My papa angles his head and places a hand on my shoulder. “But you don’t need them, Brandon. You have me. And you have your friend … what’s his name?”

My lip twitches. “Hanson,” I fill in.

“Exactly,” he says, nodding. “But my point is, we’re all the family you’ll ever need.”





Chapter Five





Brandon



Weeks later



“So have you found a girl yet?”

I almost slam my own locker door against my own face. “What?”

“You know, for the bonfire,” Hanson says, smiling like an idiot. “We’re supposed to bring a partner, remember?”

“Oh, fuck,” I mutter.

After working day and night in the shop, I completely forgot about the bonfire.

“Traditions, Brandon.” He pats me on the shoulder. “They’re important here.”

“When is it?” I ask as he stuffs his books into his bag.

“A week from now.”

“Shit,” I say, running my hand through my hair. “Do you think I’m too late?”

“Nah,” he says, laughing. “Although all the good ones will be taken. Probably. Most likely, anyway.” He shrugs.

I don’t care about “good.” I just want someone to say yes so I can go. I’ve never gone to the bonfire because I was always alone and being there alone is like the dumbest thing to do in the history of high school.

“I don’t think we stand a chance,” he says, shrugging it off again. “I’m not even going to try.”

“Why not?” I ask, slinging my bag over my shoulder.

“Well, have ya looked at me?” He gestures at his body, up and down, as if something’s off about him.

“Yeah. I don’t get it,” I say.

“Have ya looked at them?” He points at everyone else in the hallway. It’s just people. Most of them don’t share the same skin color as us, but that shouldn’t be a problem. Should it?

“So?” I rub my lips together. “Doesn’t hurt to try.”

“Like I have a chance,” he says, leaning against his locker. “Besides, there’s only one girl I want.”

“Who?” I grin. I’m only asking to see his reaction because I already know who he likes. He’s had an eye on her for some time now.

“As if I’d tell you,” he says, shaking his head. “I know the kind of shit you pull. I’m not gonna embarrass myself in front of her.”

“Why not? At least you’ll make an impression then.” I snicker.

“No, she’s part of that cool club. You know, the ones who only date jocks.”

“Ah …” Hanson’s talking about Lillian, one of the girls from the track team. The really sporty ones. I don’t think she knows he likes her.

Hell, he’s probably too chicken to talk to her, figuring he’d say something stupid. That’s the life of us loners. We don’t talk to people much. Though, I feel like Hanson secretly wants to belong to one of the groups here at school. He’s always going on about the events they organize, trying to fit in even though we both know we never will.

Me? I don’t feel like I belong with any of the groups. Not the nerds, not the popular crowd, not the jocks, or the artsies. I haven’t felt like I belonged to something since my papa and I moved off the reserve. Right now, I’m just doing my own thing. But that does make it difficult when it comes to parties and stuff like the bonfire.

“Ready?” Hanson asks as he eyes his watch. It’s almost time for our next class.

“Yeah,” I say. But as I turn around, I bump into someone’s shoulder.

“Hey! Watch it!” He shoves me back so hard I fall to the floor. Only then do I notice it’s Derek. Accompanied by two laughing twins and a beautiful girl on his arm. Dixie.

“Don’t you ever fucking touch me again, redskin,” Derek says, spitting on the floor beside me.

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