Alison Harold

Chapter 15

Zelda dumped a huge bag on Alison's bed.

Puzzled, Alison reached for the bag and opened it. "What's this?"

"What's it to you?" She casually plopped down on Alison's bed, sinking into the softness of the mattress. She crossed her legs and leaned back against the pillows with a sigh. "Should I sell some of them? I mean, I do need the money."

Alison searched through the bag in awe. It was filled with many different snacks, sweets and juices. "There's too many and they look expensive."

"They are!" Zelda agreed, slamming her hand into her forehead with regret. "Maybe I should have just asked for the money."

Alison looked at her. "From whom?"

"My never ending line of admirers." When she saw the look of confusion on Alison's face, she leaned closer and explained. "I get asked out by so many boys in other classes, including our seniors and the head boy himself."

"Wow," Alison said genuinely. "Well, I see why."

Zelda snorted. "Well, thank you," she replied, batting her eyelashes with a smirk. "Anyways, boys are stupid. As long as you're pretty, you've got boobs and two holes down there, then they're willing to spend their entire fortune on you."

"I don't think it's like that for every girl, though," Alison stated. "But why do you go around taking things from boys? You could just ask your parents."

"Point of correction, I'm not taking, they're offering and I only accept. And..." she flipped her blonde hair over a shoulder. "My parents are dead."

Alison stiffened. She felt stupid for immediately assuming that everyone was as fortunate as her. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," she said cheerfully. "I'm actually here on scholarship. The only family I have is Mr. Justin Allen, and that idiot would never spend a dime on me even if his life depended on it, so I resolved to look for other means to survive in this school."

Alison gazed sadly at her, wondering once again what her story was. She looked so tough and unbothered, one would never have guessed that she had it rough going for her especially with the way she spoke about things in the most lighthearted way.

"Don't look at me like that," Zelda warned. "I hate when people look at me with pity in their eyes."

Something in Alison's head clicked as she thought of a way to lighten the mood. "I do pity you, though. What ever are we going to do about these snacks?"

Zelda giggled loudly. "I'll share them with you. We'll keep some and take the rest as our contribution for the picnic later."

"Deal."

"You two look awfully close these days," a new voice intruded.

They both turned to look at Daphne who'd just walked to join them. She slumped down next to Alison without permission.

Alison shifted uncomfortably in her own bed, and she did not appreciate it one bit. She glanced over at Zelda who was busy suppressing a laugh.

Daphne's eyes went wide as she drew the bag of snacks closer to look in. "Is this yours, Alison?"

"No, it's Zelda's."

Daphne quickly let go of the bag looking slightly displeased. "I—"

"Actually, it's mine and Alison's," Zelda corrected.

There was a heavy silence that hung in the air fraught with awkwardness and eyes darting around with uncertainty. The silence was deafening; it stretched on for what felt like an eternity. It was obvious that someone's interference had triggered this discomfort. It was as if the air itself was holding its breath, waiting for someone to break the ice.