Liability

Chapter 34 - Rhys

WARNING! Brief discussion of the death of a minor, and teens discussing sexual violence.

Please, read the endnotes for some extra info.
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Thursday
September 13, 2018

What is there to say to someone who makes your biggest dream come true and hands it over to you with the shiny bow of an iron-clad contract on top? If it is a bribe to win him over, Rhys would be a liar to say it has no effect. Especially, when no adult has ever done anything even remotely similar to Armand's gesture for him just because Rhys asked them to.

Never mind when he demanded them to.

Still, the words 'thank you' burn his tongue and refuse to budge from the tip of it. Which results in Rhys acting like a pathetic coward for once and practically slinking into the classroom that morning without making eye contact once. Then he proceeds to ignore the infuriating man with the full force of his willpower... until it becomes impossible once again because Thommy knows just the right buttons to push to make him act out.

And Rhys does act out, reaping Armand's reaction in turn, which leaving them all nauseous and with the urgent need to bath in acid. He's suddenly taken back to the very first day of the semester, inwardly shuddering at the reminder of the flippancy of the words he threw in Thommy's direction.

"Do your best and you could do the honors."

Fucking hell.

He chances a glance at Armand, who isn't looking at them anymore, busy with checking something on the laptop provided for the classroom. Probably for his next class.

Does the man really see them akin to the scum that apparently Harris, the last winner of the Tag, is? It's hard to distance himself from the bastard who kept bragging all through the last month of the semester how that 'pretty young thing' was so eager for him to get his way with her. To think Rhys never once tried to put a stop to this disgusting tradition...

Rhys needs to clench his teeth to quell the nausea that roils his stomach. Next to him, Thommy doesn't look much better, and they still need to get to class to listen to Traum's droning and five other useless classes before they will have the chance to confront Armand for dropping bomb like that on their heads out of nowhere.

If the man was aiming for shock value, congratulations are in order because Rhys has never seen his classmates more quiet in his life. It doesn't make the announcement any less cruel and cold but, ultimately, only a delusional fool would start casting stones at the messenger after a fuckup of that volume. And as far as warnings go, Armand's method of discouraging them from joining that fucked up game again appears to be more effective than anything Rhys could have come up himself.

If he hadn't thought himself so above such trivial matters like messing with teachers.

"C'mon, Cielito, let's get our expected A's in Old Traum's class," Thommy murmurs into his ear, his long arm already wound around Rhys' shoulder.

They lock eyes, his best friend's expression solemn and resolute for a change. Such a far cry from the mischievous playfulness that usually paints his face in bright lights. They don't speak, Thommy studiously avoiding even the shortest peek in Armand's direction as they leave the classroom.

It's an almost literal exodus after them, Rhys doesn't need to look back to hear the way chairs screech against the floor as their classmates realize that they indeed need to leave.

None of them dare to speak, not even James.

There is no tussle to get into the elevator first, no verbal sparring between buddies and frienemies, and it shows just how deeply Armand's words hit all of them. Rhys wonders whether none of them ever thought about the possible worst case scenarios or if they had been just willfully ignorant to avoid facing hard truths about their own disgusting shallowness.