Chapter 3 Ridgewood High: New hunting ground

Jake knew the moment he walked through the front door that his father had been drinking again. The sharp smell of alcohol clung to the air, mixing with the stale scent of cigarette smoke. His father sat in his usual spot on the sagging couch, a half-empty bottle resting on the coffee table beside him. His eyes were bloodshot, his jaw clenched tight.

"So, expelled again," his father muttered, not looking up.

Jake didn't answer. There was no point.

"You think this is a joke?" His father's voice rose, slurring slightly. "You think you can just run around, acting like some damn thug, and it won't catch up to you?"

Jake clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms. "I didn't-"

"Shut up," his father snapped, slamming the bottle down. "I don't want your excuses."

Jake bit his tongue. He'd been down this road before. His father would rant, throw a few insults his way, and then drown himself in another bottle. It was routine now.

"You're just like your mother," his father spat suddenly, and something inside Jake snapped.

"I am nothing like her," he shot back, his voice cold.

His father let out a bitter laugh. "No? She was a selfish, lying piece of-"

Jake stormed past him before he could finish. He wasn't going to do this tonight. He wasn't going to sit here and listen to his father blame everyone but himself.

He passed the small bedroom where his younger sisters, Emily and Sophie, were asleep. They were the only reason he still cared. The only reason he even tried anymore.

Slamming his own door shut, he sank onto his bed, staring at the ceiling.

Expelled.

He had no idea what was going to happen next. Another school? His father could barely keep their rent paid-where was he supposed to find the money for another school?

Jake exhaled sharply. He didn't want to think about it.

But Ridgewood High was already being decided for him.

---

The next morning, Jake woke to the sound of his father's gruff voice.

"Get up," he ordered, standing in the doorway.

Jake sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes. "What?"

"You're going to a new school."

Jake frowned. "What?"

His father sighed, rubbing his temples. He looked exhausted-like he'd spent the whole night drinking and regretting it. "I pulled some strings. You're going to Ridgewood High."

Jake stared at him. "You're joking."

"Do I look like I'm joking?"

Jake ran a hand through his hair. Ridgewood High. Everyone knew about that place. It wasn't like his last school. It was strict. Disciplined. Only the best students got in.

"How the hell did you get me in there?"

His father sighed. "Doesn't matter. Just don't screw it up."

Jake scoffed, shaking his head. "Yeah, right."

His father narrowed his eyes. "What does that mean?"

"It means I'm not going," Jake snapped.

The room went silent. His father slowly stood up, his posture tense.

"What did you just say?"

Jake crossed his arms. "I said I'm not going. I don't belong in some stuck-up school with a bunch of rich kids who think they're better than me."

His father took a slow breath, trying to keep himself calm. "You don't have a choice."

"I always have a choice," Jake shot back. "And I'm not wasting my time in some school that's just gonna kick me out anyway."

"You think you get to decide that?" His father's voice was rising. "I already pulled every damn favor I could to get you in there. You think I did that for fun? You're going, and that's final."

Jake shook his head, laughing bitterly. "Oh, so now you care about what happens to me? Since when?"

His father's jaw clenched. "Watch yourself, Jake."

"Or what? You'll throw another bottle at me?"

His father's face darkened, and for a second, Jake thought he might actually take a swing at him. But instead, he just exhaled sharply, rubbing his forehead.

"You're going," he repeated, quieter this time. "I don't care if you hate me for it. I don't care if you fight me every step of the way. But you're going to Ridgewood High."

Jake glared at him. "No, I'm not."

He turned and stormed toward his room, slamming the door behind him.

He meant it.

---

For the next two days, Jake barely spoke to his father. He refused to fill out any paperwork, ignored every conversation about Ridgewood, and avoided him as much as possible.

But his sisters? They weren't so easy to ignore.

On the third night, as Jake was lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling, Sophie poked her head into his room.

"Jake?" she asked softly.

He sighed. "What, Soph?"

She hesitated, then stepped inside, followed closely by Emily.

"You should go to Ridgewood," Emily said.

Jake groaned. "Not you too."

Sophie climbed onto the bed beside him, hugging her knees. "We just... we don't want you to get in more trouble."

"I can handle myself," Jake muttered.

Emily sighed, sitting at the edge of the bed. "No, you can't. You're just pretending you can. But we see how tired you are. We see how much it's breaking you."

Jake swallowed hard, looking away. "It's not that simple."

"It is," Sophie insisted. "Ridgewood is a good school. A fresh start. Maybe... maybe you won't have to fight so much anymore."

Jake exhaled slowly.

"Please," Sophie whispered. "For us?"

He glanced between them-his little sisters, the only people in the world who still believed in him.

And just like that, he knew he had no choice.

Jake sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Fine," he muttered. "I'll go."

Sophie smiled, hugging him tightly. Emily just nodded, relief evident in her eyes.

Jake didn't know what Ridgewood High had in store for him. But for them, he would find out.

---