DRIFTERS

1: A New Town

Minsute, the city of abundant freedom, is my hometown. While the old town sits on the outskirts slowly withering away, Minsute is building higher and getting brighter. In the outback, that’s what we locals call it; abandoned factories and forests sit untouched. They have been there for ten years and I'm sad to see it all go to waste, but I believe nature should reclaim what belongs to it.

The school, which remains on the original site in the outback town, is a wasteland of cracked asphalt and faded lines, with students lounging on the hoods of beat-up vehicles, their laughter and conversation echoing off the dreary grey of the morning sky. My school is expected to close permanently at the end of the school year, all pupils moving to a new urban block in the large city at the start of the new term.

I find it odd to have to trek to school from the sanitised, large, multicultural city to the gloomy, dangerous town. Sometimes I’ll stroll through the town, and other times I’ll go for a walk through the forest to school.

I wrap my arms around my body, the early chill making me shudder as I push through the crowd. It's freezing. I should have put something else on, but I decided to go for a unique street art star style. It's urban-inspired with graffiti prints and bold blues with pinks. My hoody is oversized, the jeans ripped. I matched that with high-top sneakers and neon bracelets. Fun and creative.

I keep my head down, slipping between different cliques and avoiding eye contact with the boys who hang around next to the rusty old fence. Their not very nice people. Last year, I watched them make a holy show of some girl. One of the boys tripped her up, and she fell into a puddle, her white linen pants became see-through. I felt sorry for her, but she started an argument with them, and well, she had to deal with the consequences. As you can tell, I hate drama and trouble. I’m simply trying to survive another day of senior year.

I go to step inside the building undetected when I hear noise. Chanting. What the hell is going on? I turn around and listen, my eyes darting from one side of the parking lot to the other. It starts with a faint murmur, the type of ripple that spreads through a crowd when something exciting occurs. I raise on my tiptoes and look again. I see nothing until Tyler Greene, the school’s self-proclaimed parking lot king storms towards a boy I’ve never seen before. Who is he? He doesn't fit in, that's for sure. Is he a biker?

Tyler steps into the boy’s personal space, towering over him. His cronies surround them; Kirk is smirking while Warren, Brent, and Neo cheer him on. “You got a death wish, man?”

Oh, this could end badly.

I grab the rail, my bag resting over my shoulder as people rush over to the altercation.

The new guy is thin but muscular with dark eyes. My heart picks up tempo as I watch his eyes take in everything at once. Tyler, Kirk, Warren, Brent, Neo, the students surrounding them, the lack of teacher precence, his fight or flight kicking in. It must be a lot for him to deal with on his first day. Nobody should have to deal with Tyler. He’s a bully who needs to be put in his place. Tyler moves closer to the boy, and he doesn’t flinch. How can he not flinch? No boy has ever stood in front of Tyler Greene and not shrunk back in fear. No one, not even the teachers have the guts to stand up to him.

The boy’s leather jacket looks worn and patched, as if it has stories to tell. They are rough, sad, and dark memories. Maybe, that's the reason why he didn't flinch. He stands firmly on the spot, calm and unshaken, as if Tyler is a minor inconvenience in his everyday life. Wow, I’ve never seen a boy like him.

“I just need to get through,” the boy says. He doesn’t drop his gaze to the floor or hold his hands up. He stands there, his hands down his sides and his eyes pinned on Tylers.

Tyler lets out his ugly laugh, and I roll my eyes. Urgh, I hate when that boy laughs, and that’s a lot.

“You don’t just get through. You pay a toll.”

Yeah, Tyler is a top-notch douchebag who will charge people a daily fee. If they pay, he will leave them alone. I’m lucky I’ve never had any problems with him previously, but I put it down to a matter of time before he does manage to spot me. One day, he will tell me that I have to pay, and I will do that. I will do anything to get him to leave me alone. I don’t want any problems. I just come to school with hopes to get a certificate at the end of it. That’s all I want.

The new guy cocks his head slightly, as if considering Tyler’s words. Then, without warning, he shifts his weight and takes a step forward. Tyler's wall of personal space has been breached. Not by much, but it’s enough to make Tyler step back, his tough-guy act faltering for a split second. The crowd murmurs in approval of the new guy.

“That’s Jax,” someone whispers next to me. I turn my head just enough to catch the speaker, a junior with a skateboard under his arm. “He’s new. Word is, he got expelled from his last school.” He got expelled? What could he have possibly done to get expelled? That’s even if what he said is true.

I frown, watching as this so-called Jax shoulder barges Tyler out of his way and walks towards me. My chest tightens up and I look at him, but he doesn’t acknowledge me. He walks straight past me into the school building. The on lookers laugh at Tyler. Who can blame them. For the first time, Tyler has been made the laughing stock of the school. "Shut up!" he yells, turning and storming off behind the wall with his friends in tow.

There’s something about Jax—something sharp-edged and untamed—something that made my chest tighten for a split second there. I shake my head and head for the main entrance. What happened there is none of my business. Still, I can’t stop the small smile that graces my lips. I imagine him standing there, unyielding against Tyler and his crony crew, the way he shoulder barged him out of his way, his dark eyes, the leather jacket he wears. He's like a real life criminal. I've never met anyone like him before.

Go Jax.

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Lunch time

The rumours about Jax have spread like wildfire, and it’s only been a couple of hours. Apparently, he had a fight with a teacher at his old school, stole a car and drove it halfway across the state, and is in some sort of gang. Every version of his story has managed to get more dramatic than the last, but my classmates revel in the mystery of it all. I’ve been ignoring most of the rumours, focusing on my sketchbook instead. This is my favourite class, plus I don’t have time to get involved in drama. Honestly, I don’t get why everyone has to get involved in other people’s business; it’s annoying. I hold my pencil and scratch softly across the page.

“Hey, Zoey!” My attention is drawn away from the page as Emma slips into the seat across from me. “You hear about the new guy?”

“Who hasn’t?” I don’t look up from my sketch. I’m halfway through drawing the old oak tree near my house, the branches twisting across the page.

“He’s in my Chem class,” Emma says, leaning forward as if what she’s saying has to stay a secret. “He’s quiet, but there’s this... vibe about him. You know?”

I arch an eyebrow. “A vibe?”

Emma nods eagerly. “Yeah, like he’s dangerous but also kind of... I don’t know. Magnetic?” I can agree with her there. He does look dangerous. When he walked past me, my eyes were locked on him like a magnet. What she’s saying is valid.

“Sounds like you’ve already written his biography,” I glance up at her. I hate to admit it, but she’s right about him.

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After school

I step out of my house and look around. The street is busy, and the lights of the buildings are blinding. I can’t bear the thought of walking around the city, so I go towards the outskirts, where I usually walk. It’s the opposite of the city. The city is bright, and this side is dark, all the lights are switched off. Yes, it can be dangerous if you go into the town, but I prefer to walk through the woods. I’ve been coming here since I was seven. It’s not too far from my house, just behind it. Sometimes I feel like the walls of my room are closing in on me, and I find it relaxing to take a long stroll through the quiet, dark woodland.

The sun is dipping low, casting long shadows across the trees. I close my eyes, stop and breathe in deeply when I hear the faint hum of something. What is that? I follow the sound, careful to keep my steps light until I step out into a clearing of trees and freeze. What the hell? My eyes widen. The noise I can hear are engines. They were left to rot away here. I haven’t heard an engine in ten years because we moved to the city and only electric vehicles were allowed. Is that the noise they make?

Tucked into the woods like a secret hideaway is a makeshift camp. RVs and trailers form a loose circle, their exteriors patched and weathered. Wow, I think they are recycling here, using old pieces of the old town’s history to create something new. Solar panels gleam on a few of the roofs, and a group of people—adults and teens alike—sit around a fire, their laughter drifting in the breeze.

And then I see Jax, leaning against a dirt bike, his leather jacket discarded to reveal a faded black t-shirt. He’s talking to a man with grey hair and fine lines, his expression more open than it was in school. I think this is his world. The parking lot showdown, the whispered rumours—were just glimpses. He looks at ease, like he belongs here.

I step back. I shouldn’t be here. Whatever this was, it isn’t for me. It’s great knowing they are recycling, and I’m glad the old history won’t go to waste. I’ve always used the saying ‘somebody’s rubbish is somebody else’s treasure.’ I just don’t understand why they would want to do that. The city they have built here is amazing. Why wouldn’t you want to stay there?

I turn to leave, and Jax’s gaze snaps to mine, sharp and unyielding. For a moment, none of us move, then he pushes off the bike and starts marching towards me, his strides confident and measured. Oh shit, shit, shit. What should I do?

“Lost?” he asks when he reaches me, his tone neutral but laced with something I can’t quite place.

I swallow hard. “I was just... walking.” Well, that’s what I was doing until I heard the engines. It was a sound that was familiar, yet I couldn’t place it. Curiosity got the better of me. It’s usually quiet out here, hence the reason why I walk through the woods daily. To clear my mind, to sit in this exact spot away from the lively city.

Jax’s eyes narrow slightly, but he doesn’t press. “You shouldn’t be out here.”

“Why not?” I grab my necklace and play with it.

He glances back at the camp, then returns his gaze to me. “Because it’s not safe.” Not safe? No, town’s not safe, the woods, believe it or not is the safest place around here, so I don’t know what he’s talking about. I want to argue, to ask him what he means by his statement, but the look in his eyes stops me. There was a weight to his words, a seriousness that left no room for debate. This boy is a mystery.

“Okay,” I say softly, stepping back from him. “I’ll go.”

Jax nods once, then turns and walks away, leaving me standing at the edge of the clearing. I wonder why he’s here. Does he live here, and why is he recycling? I shut down the questions and make my way home. I’m sure more rumours will spread around school tomorrow, and hopefully I will get my answers then.