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"Hey, shortie," Zeke greeted, suddenly appearing and scaring the shit out of you.
And even though it sounded like him, you didn't loosen your grip on your books as you slowed down.
It was lunchtime, and you had managed to go so far without getting pulled into the office or cornered by one of the faculty, which you now deduced was completely controlled by... whatever got to Olson and Willis.
But you didn't want to risk it, and decided to head outside and hang out until class started up again.
"What happened this morning? I went to pick you up but you weren't home," he asked, moving to walk beside you, "You didn't walk to school, did you?"
"Before I answer that question, you need to answer mine," you stated, curtly, as you stopped and turned to face him, "Correctly."
Confused, he raised a brow, but complied anyway, "Okay?"
You took a deep breath, looking straight into his eyes, "In my sophmore year, you took me to the state fair and won me a bear in darts. What was the bear wearing?"
"That's easy," he scoffed, "It had a snapback with sunglasses and a hawaiian shirt. You wanted it 'cause you said it looked like me."
You sighed with relief, allowing your shoulders to sink and your head to fall into his chest, "Thank God."
Concerned, he lifted your chin, forcing you to look up at him, "You okay?"
"Some shit you will not believe happened after school yesterday," you started, lowly, not wanting to draw attention, "And I think it's why everyone is acting so odd today..."
Looking around, Zeke had already taken notice of everyone's weird behavior.
The line for the water fountain was winding, half of the slap-boxing couple was as violent as a vegetable, and even some of his regulars were a little off.
"Wha—" "Dude, we need some Scat," the heavily pierced boy from before chimed, walking up to you two with his friend.
Zeke sighed in annoyance, and you pulled away so he could do his thing, the boy already missing the warmth of your face against his chest.
"Yeah, man, we can't deal. There's some weird shit going down here," his friend agreed.
"Five bucks a pop," Zeke stated, a tired look in his eye as he pulled two pens out his pocket, "Hey, man, how's the new you working out?"
"Working out just fine," the boy scoffed, both of them handing over the money and taking the pens, "Hey, you got any more?"
