The Alliance

Chapter 8

I tried talking to Nevaeh in the morning during English class, but I had no luck. We were doing independent work in business, and I wanted to finish my work. I walked up to her after the class, but she quickly left, going to her second period.

I told Kiana and Alisha that I tried talking to her during lunch, and Kiana offered that I should give her some advice and talk to her tomorrow or the next day, while Alisha mumbled that Nevaeh had no right to blow up at me like that.

I didn't finish much work. I was still on edge because of Ian. What things could he do to me in a classroom? I panicked when he just stared at me.

What would happen if I had to sit next to him, and talk to him? Oh god, I wouldn't survive. I would die in class, right there, and no one would care. Why would I die? I'm talking to the hottest, the most popular, and the smartest guys in school.

I should feel lucky. At least that's what everyone would say.

I have no other classes with him, thankfully. That, or he skipped, which I doubt because he's a star student. Perfect grades, perfect attendance, perfect guy.

And perfect guys definitely don't commit crimes.

I'll have to talk to her tomorrow. Texting her wouldn't work; I already tried. She isn't answering me.

I sigh, walking towards my car. Will it always be like this? Will I ever get better? Will Nj apologize?

I get in my car, put my bag in the passenger seat, pull out my phone, and see I have a message from Theo.

Getting a ride home with Fay and her boyfriend

I swallow, even though my throat is dry. Fay. At my house again. Fay. My former friend Fay, who is lying about knowing me. I quickly put the key in the ignition, driving out of the school parking lot.

Why is she pretending? Why? Since when does he hang out with Theo? Were they friends before, or earlier? Or just for piano lessons. I don't know how I'll handle this. Everyone Monday, Tuesday, and Friday. At least I'll be gone Friday.

I groan out loud. Will my parents even let me go? What if they think I'm unstable? What if they think I'll go out, do drugs, and drink?

"Want a drink?" And I look at the table covered with different alcoholic beverages. There's a bowl with pinkish liquid, with a ladle in it too. I cringe.

I shake my head, "No thanks. Not really an um...drinker." Oh my god, I hope he doesn't make fun of me. Please don't make fun of me. Please don't make fun of me. You're really handsome but please don't make fun of me.

He says nothing as his tattooed hand grabs a red solo cup from the stack at my side, his muscular arm slightly brushing mine. Oh my god, his skin just touched my skin. He gets some of the pinkish liquid from the bowl and fills the solo cup halfway using the ladle.

"Fruit punch." He says, giving it to me.

"Are you sure it's not-"

"It's not." He says. What if it's spiked? I must give him an unconvincing look, because he grabs it from my hand, and takes a sip, giving it back to me, licking his lips.

Oh god. Ohhhhhhhhh god.

"I don't think- I don't think you drinking it will stop you from being spiked as well." I point out.

"Well I taste and smell no alcohol, so don't worry," He promises.

"I think I need another opinion," I mutter.

"Here," He says, grabbing underneath the table, and showing me an iced tea can, "It's closed, so don't worry," He says, grabbing my drink and dumping it back in the bowl.