Chapter 137

    Benjamin King, youngest child of Aaron King and Fabian “Blade” Dickson, sat swinging his legs outside the principal’s office. This was the third time this month he’d been there. He’d been fighting again.

   His cousin Tristan and half-brother John glared at him from the bench on the other side of the door. They had hated him his entire life. Not that either of them knew they were related to him. His parents had made that perfectly clear when he started school. He wasn’t to let them know about their connection. That didn’t stop them from tormenting him. He pushed a lock of purple hair out of his aqua eyes. All they cared about was that he was a mixed-color sim.

   “Benjamin, will you come in?” The principal called. “Benjamin, I’m very disappointed in you. This is the third time this month you’ve been called in here for fighting. What do you have against Tristan and John?”

   He shrugged. “Nothing.”

   “Then why do you keep fighting them?”

   He shrugged again. The principal was open minded about mixed color sims. He’d had every single one of Ben’s siblings and step-siblings at one time or another. Still, he was a pure blood and couldn’t understand how it actually felt to be different.

   “Well, I’m going to have to call your parents. You’ll be suspended for a week this time.”

   Ben sat outside the office waiting to be picked up while the principal talked to Tristan and John. He felt sorry for Tristan a little. Tristan’s father had been murdered last year and the killer still hadn’t been caught. Ben’s older brothers Byron and Burke had disappeared earlier that year. Ben privately thought the police weren’t looking too hard because they were mixed. Even with the dissolution of the PPP, there was still too much discrimination against mixed-color sims.

   “Benjamin King, you were fighting again?” Onyx said, exasperated.

   Ben looked up. Of course it was Onyx who came to pick him up. Blade was probably at work so had a good excuse for not coming, but Aaron worked from home. He could have come. He never did. Aaron refused to be outed as gay or in a mixed relationship, especially since Ben’s opponents were his nephew and other son. Ben hated John. He was a constant reminder that his father had cheated.

   The door opened and John’s mother walked in with Tristan’s sister, Chantel. Chantel had absorbed all her mother’s twisted beliefs. She had managed to turn Tristan into her puppet. Julius was better, but Ben still didn’t like his cousins. Chantel grimaced in disgust as she caught sight of him. She held a handkerchief up to her nose and hustled Tristan out of there.

   “I wonder what she would think if she knew who you were?” Onyx mused as they walked out of the school.

   “I think it would make it worse. I’d be the nasty little family secret that no one talks about. The blackest, black sheep.” Ben stated.

   “You’re probably right. I wish you would stop fighting with those boys. You are kin after all.”

   “Hell will probably freeze over first. They hate me.”

    “You’re grounded of course. You’ll also be cleaning the house every day after school and helping Aaron in the vineyard.”

   Ben nodded, resigned. He knew there was no way he could escape being punished. They drove home in silence and Ben immediately went into the vineyard to help his father weed and water the plants.  

  “Fighting again?” Aaron asked.

   “Yeah.”

   “The usual suspects?”

   “Uh-huh.”

   “Benny, what are we going to do with you?”

   “You could send me off to boarding school.”

   “No. All of your siblings have gone to the local school, no reason you can’t do the same. Even if it kills you.”

   “I don’t suppose you could convince their parents to send them off?” Ben asked curiously.

   “No. For one thing Chantel can’t afford it. For another, running away from your problems is not a solution.”

   “I know. A guy can dream though, can’t he?”

   Aaron laughed and tousled Ben’s hair. “You’re more trouble than the rest of your siblings combined.”

   “Sorry.”

   Ben trudged to bed exhausted from the hard physical labor he’d endured. His bruises from the fight began to ache and he stared up at the ceiling as sleep eluded him.