Broken Ice

Chapter 4: School

I found an empty corner in the large school library, a place where the 18th-century biographies and medical technology sections converged to make a place no teenager would want to go unless they wanted some peace.

I sat down, pulling out my computer, trying to get some work done. But my mind wouldn't stop going back to that night. He was much more normal, more standard Michael on Sunday when he came by the rink, but Thursday wouldn't stop replaying in my head. Why was he on the bridge? Why would goody two shoes Michael Thomas, with a baseball scholarship for next year and scouts lined up, risk everything on a cigarette? Well, a pack of them.

It just didn't add up. I knew it was best to leave well enough alone, but somehow, I felt like I needed to know. It felt like I was looking in a mirror that night and I needed to see how deep it went.

Once the bell rang, signalling 4th period, I slammed my computer closed, coming to terms with the fact I would have to cram all my studying into the tiny breaks I got in between customers at the shop.

I pushed open the door to English class to see it was almost full. Luckily, Ms Brunner wasn't there, or she would have chewed me out for being late.

"Gigi!" My eyes locked with Quinn's.

"Hey," I took a seat beside her. I surveyed the nearby area but couldn't find Emma. "Where's Emma?"

She clicked her tongue, "I couldn't care less. But where were you? You were MIA all weekend." She pouted, steel grey eyes staring into my blue, "I wouldn't have had to go to Reggie's party with that snake if you had been there."

Poor Emma, I thought. Quinn didn't forgive easily, but, to be fair, she didn't have to. She was pretty with deep, tanned skin, grey eyes, and jet-black, silky hair; and everyone knew it—she knew it and she took advantage of it. People liked her, so if Emma wasn't her friend anymore, she would find another Emma. It happened before and it will happen again.

"I was busy. Clara's working me to the bone." I gave her a grim laugh. Honestly, I just didn't like Reggie's parties, or anyone in that whole circle other than Quinn.

She hummed, mulling over my words. "Fine," She said, airily. "There's another one this Friday, and you're coming." She rushed out her words before I could refuse and turned back to her drawings before I could say anything. I sighed, I loved Quinn, but she could certainly be a piece of work.

The door creaked open, drawing my eyes to the noise to make me lock eyes with Michael. For a second, our gazes trapped one another before he was pulled away by Reggie, one of his friends. I suppose there was someone else in that group that I could tolerate.