Chapter 7:

I lock my car door, and catch a glimpse of my reflection in the window. My eyes have dark bags beneath them, my skin's pale, and my hair is gigantic.

I sigh, and turn away, rubbing the side of my temple.

I look like complete trash.

Well, it's understandable when all I did last night was cry.

I cross the threshold into the noisy corridor.

I sorted some things out in my head, like my priorities. I need to get good grades; Mr. Mathis' words didn't strike me until 3am this morning. I can't believe I got a B on my investigation, and he's already looking for a tutor!

I need to pull up my socks, I need to get irrelevant thoughts, like Tristan, out of my head, and I need to sort out the Student Council duties.

There're so many lists I need to make and files that need sorting out.

I shut my locker, holding my Math's textbook in my arms when someone slams into my shoulder and doesn't even turn around. "Excuse me, you just knocked into me," I call after him, but he continues walking. "Maybe you should apologize, you know, do the decent thing."

He ignores me.

"Hey!" I make my way towards him when a hand closes around my wrist, and twists me around in the opposite direction.

"I don't think you want to get into Isaac's way," a blast of freshness assaults my nose and I look up to a chin, but it was looking behind me.

"Isaac Murdock, rumours are he stabbed a teacher once," he looks down to me and I whip my head straight.

Too close!

He's still holding my wrist, and his other hand rests on my waist.

I need to get away from him soon; my sweat glands can't take the stress.

I nod, disentangle myself from him, and walk faster.

He stands still for a second, watching me stalk off with a confused expression, before turning and walking away.

I look over my shoulder and watch his retreating back.

I hope he starts to show his hate for me soon.

I look up to the ceiling and exhale.

I know it's in his nature to be kind, but it would make it so much easier for me to get over this stupid crush if he stopped being so nice.

I drop my head and hug my textbook to my chest.

But then why does the thought of him disliking me make me feel so sad?

I take a deep, shaky breath.

It's ok, Andy, you can do this. Just say what you need to say. We need to start working on the project at some point, it's not just your marks at stake but theirs as well. They have a responsibility too.

I open the door to the student council room, and I hear laughter die down. They turn to look at me, and I swallow down a lump and clear my throat.

"I'm sure you guys know we have an English assignment due together," I walk towards them.

"Yeah, how can we forget," Nate rolls his eyes.

"Can we meet up this Saturday to discuss it? Maybe at the library?"

"Don't we have student council duties on Saturday as well?" Tristan queried.

"We can meet up after then," I suggest.

Nate groans. "Are you serious! A whole day with the Sasquatch? We can't even have our weekends to ourselves, what utter bullshit," he kicks his chair from the table, and grabs his backpack. "Let's go, Tristan." Tristan gets up to follow.

I look to Amy. "I know you don't need to, but are you coming on Saturday?"

Maybe if her boyfriend comes, she will as well.

Amy looks up distractedly from her magazine, while flipping the page and smiles. "No."

She looks back down and continues reading.

I sigh and walk over to my desk. "Where did they go anyway? Break just began," I pull my chair out.

"Caf, I think," Amy replies indifferently.

So, then they shouldn't be long.

My phone buzzes and I swipe it open.

It's a text from BCom's treasurer concerning the W.S. budget. I type the amount and press send.

The Welcoming Social is an annual fundraiser dance at the end of the 2nd term. Sort of like a Spring Ball. BCom and Westkin plan it together, and the girls here go crazy because BCom boys can ask them to go.

I inwardly smirk.

I've seen so many relationships crash and burn because of it.

I turn my attention to my laptop, and start researching prospective caterers and stores selling cheap décor.

"Hey Amy, can you notify the parents about the Parent-Teacher luncheon?"

"Yeah, ok," she says without looking up from her magazine.

I open my mouth to say 'thanks' when Nate returns. I clamp it closed and return my attention to my laptop.

"What happened at the cafeteria?" Amy looks up puzzled.

"Tristan said he didn't want to stay, something about Elizabeth and Grant Hike sitting together that got on his nerves," Nate shrugs and takes a seat next to Amy.

Elizabeth Vaughn? Is he jealous that she's with Grant? I think pensively.

"He said he'll pop over to the corner shop quick, he'll be here in 5. Do you want anything? I'll send him a text."

I shake my head, trying to get the thought out.

It's none of my business.

"I wasn't asking you, Sasquatch," Nate sneers and I look up in surprise.

"Wait, what did you say?" I ask in genuine confusion.

"I wasn't asking if you wanted anything, why would I do anything for you."

My eyebrow twitches in annoyance.

This boy was getting on my last nerve.

I slam my hands on the desk and stand. "Look, I don't know what your problem is with me, but we need to sort it out. We can't keep having these childish bouts every time we have a conversation. It's just a waste of energy speaking with you and frankly I'm far beyond annoyed at this point. Now you need to tell me what I did so wrong or you need to learn to control your temper."

"You want to know what I hate about you so much!" Nate shot to his feet. "Your ego is so inflated, that you can't even apologize for wronging others. You have the audacity to make us help with your stupid student council duties when you're the reason we're here in the first place. What kind of snake do you have to be—"

"Nate," Tristan stands in the doorway, a plastic bag dangling from his hand. "I told you already, she wasn't the one that—"

I step out from behind my desk and cut Tristan off. "So what?" Nate looks from Tristan to me, his eyebrows furrowed. "Are you blaming me for stopping you from destroying your life? What were you doing while bunking your classes? Saving little kittens from trees? Building houses for orphans? Running a business? No, you were wasting your time playing around, smoking, making a mockery of your existence. I'm sorry if I'm such a bad person for not letting you waste your life away. Some people don't have the luxury of such time. You can hate me all you want, fine. Be petty, but stop speaking to me like I'm the sole reason for all your misfortunes in life. You don't understand how annoying it starts to sound."

Nate is practically fuming and I turn to leave but stop. Why do I need to leave? I'm the student council president, this is the student council room. He just has a grade school grudge over something so utterly trivial.

I turn on my heel and stride straight back to the president's chair. I take a seat, cross my legs and rest my jaw on my knuckles. I look up to a seething Nate. "Anything else you want to get off your chest?"

Nates face is a dark red, he doesn't say anything further, grabs his bag and storms out of the room. Amy follows after him.

I expect Tristan to leave as well and flip open my laptop.

My heart was still pumping from the adrenalin rush, blood was rushing to my ears and my face was on fire.

What if this just makes our relationship worse. I mentally groan and cover my face with my hands.

"Hey," I look up startled to see Tristan standing above me.

"Hey," I greet back slowly, peering behind him to the empty room. "They left," I point to the door in a manner that asks: why are you here and not with them.

"I know," he shrugs. "He'll be fine, Amy's there to comfort him in his tears."

"He'll cry?" I ask incredulously.

"Not really, but with how you ripped into him, I wouldn't be surprised if he did," he smiled.

I raised my eyebrow in confusion.

Wasn't that his best friend?

"I know he's my best friend and all, but he was treating you like a dick. He deserved it."

"Well, I hope when he's done drying his tears, he makes his way back here. I have things for you guys to do."

Tristan chuckles.

I smile.

"Oh yeah, here this is for you," he reaches into the plastic bag and pulls out a tiny bottle containing milky liquid. "I'm not sure what you like, so I got this drink. I thought you might like this better than a normal soda. The cashier said its popular nowadays amongst girls because it's some sort of probiotic."

"Thanks," I say and take the tiny bottle from him. "But why?"

"I wanted to thank you for treating my wounds," he points to his face. "My mom said you did a really good job, it probably won't even leave a scar," he grins.

"Oh, um, you didn't have to," I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. "I was just trying to help."

"And help you did, Curly," he says cheerfully. "Well, that's all I wanted to say. Do you need me to help with anything?"

"Yeah, you can, um," I look down and scratch across my desk. I remember the documents that fell yesterday because of the Powerangers and reach for them. "Can you place these in chronological order, from the earliest to the present date?"

He takes the stacks from me and nods. "Aye-aye Pres."

My phone buzzes again, thankfully pulling my eyes from trailing Tristan like a creep.

I check my phone.

Good day,

This is Connor Mitchum, Blake Commons Student Council President. I'd like for us to meet up to discuss the Welcoming Social budget. Would you mind coming over to us for an informal meeting this afternoon?

"Oh shit, I'm late!" I skip down the stairs two at a time and skid into the foyer.

How could I let this happen, and on my first meeting with BCom's president!

I don't even know the directions.

The Powerangers had taken it upon themselves to help me wind down and hide my textbooks. It took me nearly 40 minutes to find out where they'd stashed them.

I pull out my phone while walking and input the school's name into my GPS. It was about a 15 minutes' drive.

I exit the school gates and speed walk to my car.

I hope he won't be too mad. I plead in my head as I start my car.

I pull out of Westkin's parking lot and start to follow the directions, not really paying attention to the roads.

Sweat beaded my forehead from the stress and the heat of the day. I switched the AC on as I turned the corner.

Oh, that sign looks familiar. I think pensively. Where can I remember it from? I don't think I've been in this area before.

I turn another corner when I see it.

WELCOME TO CONSTANTIA

My heart stops and my car screeches as I pull dead brakes. My hands start trembling on the steering wheel and I grip it tighter to stop them.

NO, it's been 6 years! I can't still react like this. I'm not a child anymore!

I lift my head and press on the accelerator.

"DANNY!"

Bright red blood pooled on the grey curb, the liquid spreading further and further until I could see nothing but red. His mangled body's image seared into my brain for eternity.

The truck hit a sign's poles which forced the board to bend over Danny's body.

WELCOME TO CONSTANTIA

I heard a shrill scream before the impact knocked my head into the steering wheel. My ears ring and I clutch my chest, my breathing ragged and my heartbeat erratic. I stared down at my lap as tears rolled down my eyes. Flashes of that day flooded back to me like it was happening all over again. The metallic taste in my mouth, the screams, the blood, the crunch…

My door swung open and I felt someone pull me out of the car. They tried to soothe my panicked state. I clutched onto them, to feel something real and alive and present helped me to remember I wasn't in that time. No matter how much I wanted things to be different, they weren't and it could never change.

My breathing slowed down and the tears slowly stopped.

They asked me questions, but I didn't respond, I couldn't. They propped me up against my car, and I sank back against the back door. My energy drained.

They grabbed my belongings from the car, and they helped me up. I looked back and saw smoke bellowing from the bonnet.

I'd driven straight into a street lamp.

I sighed, thinking of the insurance nightmare I was going to have to deal with.

I took my backpack from the stranger that helped me, and thanked them. I didn't get a good look at them; all I wanted to do was go home and sleep.

I faintly remember them asking if I needed a ride home, I declined and said I'd get an uber. My body felt like it was on autopilot.

A wave of nausea overtook me and I closed my eyes.

I just wanted to get away from here.

The uber pulled up and I slumped into the backseat, making absolutely sure I kept my eyes closed.