Love Thy Neighbor

Chapter 8

This is not good.

As calmly as I can, I close the door to the guidance counselor's office and make my way down the hallway back to class. The rain pounding on the roof of the building drowns out the deafening silence around me, beating in time with my heart. Despite all of Tristan's charm with the administration, the counselor believes that if I'm worried about my AP Calc grades, the best thing to do is to remain in class rather than get tutored. As hard as I tried to convince her that I thought tutoring would be my best option, she is well aware of my academic standing and wasn't going to be swayed into letting me out of class to meet with a tutor when I could very well be one.

In a last attempt, I asked if I could transfer to another AP course because I didn't see any future of mine that would make use of advanced math. It's the same reasoning Nicole had used a month earlier when the stress of college applications started weighing on her; she had switched out of our class and opted for another honors level course instead. The counselor seemed to buy my reasoning, but informed me that all other AP classes were filled to capacity and it was late in the semester for me to even begin to catch up and succeed. She said it would probably bring more unnecessary stress and that I should remain in AP Calc.

I continue slowly down the hallway, prolonging the journey back to class. I think about how I almost told her the real need to not be in that classroom. The actual reason I wouldn't be able to focus and in the end tank my grades for real.

But then I thought about the consequences. Carter would be transferred out of AP Calc and probably all of my other classes. He might even be kicked out of school. But nothing was stopping him from following me around after school or consorting with Katy regarding Tristan's takedown. Getting the police involved was also a non-option. That would just make things messier, especially with Brian still in the picture with little to no evidence of his doings.

Passing the door to my classroom, I walk slowly to the cafeteria. It's only ten in the morning so it should be empty. I just need a few more minutes to think. Sending a quick text to Tristan to let him know I will probably be coming back later than expected and he shouldn't worry, I round the corner and push open the doors.

Warm air greets me, the smell of whatever the lunch special today is wafting to my nose. It is quiet with the exception of the storm outside and the low hum of the lone vending machine in the room. The lights are dimmed and won't be turned to full brightness until the lunch rush, so the shadowy figure in the corner goes unnoticed until they clear their throat.

Jumping in surprise, my eyes widening trying to adjust to the dim lighting, I try to make out who it is, but the person doesn't step any closer. My heart rate quickens and I can feel my palms getting clammy with panic.

The deranged giggle and outline of her ponytail unmistakable identifies her, causing me to take a step back, one foot inching closer to the cafeteria door. The only escape.

"There's no need to be scared of me, Leila," Katy says, finally stepping out from her corner of the room. She has her signature student council smile plastered on her face, but the glint in her eyes completes the overall menacing look.

"I'm not scared," I struggle to make my voice audible. It's just barely over a whisper and it's evident that it's shaking. It's not Katy I'm scared of, per se, it's the fact that she is associated with Carter. And I'm definitely scared of Carter.

"Speak up, Leila," Katy takes another step forward. I'm frozen in my spot. "How will you ever help your little boyfriend during the board meeting if no one can hear you?" She cocks her head to the left, pulling her eyebrows together in insincerity.

Without even attempting a comeback, I take the last half step backwards and let myself out of the cafeteria before breaking into a sprint down the hallway towards my classroom. So much for getting time to think.

I slow down to a jog and then a walk to catch my breath before approaching the classroom. With one last inhale, I reenter my class, slip my note from the guidance counselor onto my teacher's desk, and take my seat next to Tristan.

Without even looking at him, I can feel his eyes boring into the side of my head. I refuse to make eye contact because I know once I do, he'll know how unhinged I'm starting to feel. And that is the last thing he needs right now.