The New Girl (Nathan Prescott Fanfiction <3)

Chapter 12

Noire's POV

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I snapped my head harshly to the left, and saw the face of a man staring back at me. I flinched back, nearly choking myself with my seatbelt.

He lifted his hand and knocked twice against the window. "Open the window, I need to talk to you about something. Something urgent."

The man was tall and scraggly looking, with a sandy goatee. His face looked gaunt, as if all he had for his meals were drugs. My first instinct was to get the hell out of here, but something in my gut told me to stay. I hesitated, my hand itching to reach out and grasp the door handle, when I finally made up my mind.

I grabbed the handle and pushed the door open as the man stepped back. "What do you want?"

"You know Nathan Prescott?" He demanded as a scary looking dog sauntered up next to him.

I gulped, eyeing the dog. "I go to school with him. You know, Blackwell Academy?"

He sneered. "Oh yes. Blackwell Academy. Filled with spoiled shits who depend on their mommy and daddy and their credit cards, loaded with money. Heard that some shit went down there, that a girl went missing or whatever." He looked down, his face twisted into an emotion that I couldn't read.

I cleared my throat. "You're referring to Rachel Amber, right? Did you know her?"

He scoffed. "Did I know her? I was the only one who truly knew her. The only one who understood her. Not even her punk-ass 'best friend' knew her."

The gears in my mind started to  churn. "Chloe Price? I ran into her when I was in the girls bathroom."

He laughed spitefully. "Yeah, her. Apparently, she and Prescott have gotten into some shit together. Heard it from Prescott himself."

"Wait, you talked to him before? What happened?" I furrowed my eyebrows together, wanting more information.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I can't quite remember what it was we talked about," he pretended to think, stroking his chin.

I knew what that fucker was doing, but I gave in anyways. I needed to know what Nathan  said.

" Oh all-fucking-right." I slapped $20 into his open palm, and he stuffed it into his greasy pants pocket.

"Listen, so I'm a drug dealer. But don't you fucking go around and yelling that shit all over town. Even though people know already, I like feeling like a sneaky bastard. Anyways, he sometimes visits so that  I can hook him up with the good stuff.

"A few months ago, he came by and I sold him some weed- which by the way if you're ever looking for a good deal, I'm having this sale, where it's buy one, get the next sale free. Y'know, not many drug dealers do this; it's a great steal. It's not a scam, I'm a pretty credible drug dealer if I do say so myself, you can ask any-"

I cut him off. "Okay, okay, I get it. You're a good weed salesman. Just get on with the story"

"Anyways, after the deal I asked where he got that nasty bruise on his face from. He said that during one of his Vortex Club parties, Chloe stole some weed from him and thought that he didn't know because he was so stoned. Later on towards the end of the party, he dragged her into a room and confronted her about it. He said that she lied to his face, so then he drugged her and kidnapped her to show her a lesson to not to mess with him."

By the time he finished, my mouth was practically touching the floor. "What the hell, are you serious?"

He looked directly into my eyes. "Dead serious. Listen, if I were you, I'd stay away from him. Heard he's mentally unstable." He turned around and started walking away, his dog trotting alongside him, as they both entered a ratty old RV.

I slid back into my car, contemplating what i've just been told.

Max was right.

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