Shattered Asylum

Chapter 21

This is Grayson's outfit.

Today is Wednesday, and I still don't know if I want to go camping. Yesterday, we had a game and barely won by one point. The adrenaline rush was great, but now I'm sore. Tomorrow, we have another game.

The season feels like it's flying by, we only have two more games before tournaments start.

As I'm walking to English, I hear someone running behind me. Turning around, I see Layla jogging toward me.

"Hey, Amber, right?"she asks once she's close enough to speak.

"It's Aven," I correct her, trying to keep my voice polite.

"Right, anyway, I've been seeing you around Grayson a lot," she says with a sugary smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes.

Layla is...intimidating, to say the least. She has dyed red hair styled to perfection, greenish-blue eyes, and legs that could go on forever. She's at least 5'10.

She practically screams modal, and not just because of the confident way she holds herself.

"Yeah, we're friends," I say, adjusting my backpack and wondering where this is going.

"Awesome! So you won't mind putting in a good word for me, then?" She asks, batting her long, obviously fake eyelashes.

"Uh... What do you mean?" I ask, genuinely confused.

She rolls her eyes, lightly tapping my shoulder like I'm slow to catch on. I move away from her reach, not wanting her to touch me.

"I mean, let him know I'm single now and ready to get back together," she says with a grin that makes me feel like she's handing me a chore.

Since when did I sign up to be a middleman?

"No. Sorry," I say firmly, fiddling with the straps of my backpack. If she wants Grayson back, she needs to deal with that on her own.

Her smile drops so fast it's almost comical. "No?" She repeats, her tone dripping with venom.

I nod, keeping my expression neutral.

She exhales sharply and steps closer, dropping the friendly act entirely. "Okay, Amber, listen. He won't talk to me, so I need you to talk to him for me," she says, her voice taking on an edge of desperation.

"If he's not talking to you, there's probably a reason," I reply calmly. "Listen, I've got to get to class. Sorry I'm not much help." I turn to walk away, but before I can take two steps, she grabs my arm.

Her nails dig into my skin hard enough to sting. I freeze, staring at her hand in shock. The hallway is eerily quiet, everyone else is already in their classes, leaving us alone.

She realizes what she's done and quickly releases me, smoothing down her dress as if nothing happened.

That fake smile of hers is back in on instant. "I'll be seeing you around," she says, her tone saccharine sweet again as she walks away.

I stand there for a moment, my heart racing. Is it just me, or does she remind you of Madison?

Shaking off the interaction, I hurry to English and slip inside five minutes late. My cheeks burn as I do the dreaded walk of shame to my seat, avoiding eye contact with everyone.

The teacher barely glances at me before continuing the class. Presentations are happening today, my least favorite activity.

Whenever I get up in front of the class, my brain decides to betray me and go completely blank.