Project Bad

Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight:

"Let's just say yesterday wasn't my best."

In that moment I swear I was going to faint because I could feel all the blood and emotion drain from my face. The line repeated and repeated in my head. Yesterday.

I looked at his cuts again, gently touching them consciously. He didn't seem to mind, though he looked at me with a soft almost bemused face. Then, without thinking, I picked up my bag and started walking away. My pace was quickening but then I felt an arm yank mine back. I was shocked at this sudden movement knowing it was Mason, but not knowing what he was up to or what he was going to do. I backed away a little trying to get out of his grip but he wouldn't let go.

"Let go," I grumbled, my patience wearing thin but my fear growing. He pressed his torso against mine so that we were inches apart as he whispered, "Why are you running away, Peyton?"

his voice was low and husky. There was nobody around the bell to class seemingly went off without any recognition from either Mason or I.

"It was you," I breathed shortly, "You were the-the guy who.."

I couldn't continue my head was spinning and I lost my balance. Mason held me upright again with one strong arm, "Woah there, you need to slow down."

He guided me to a metal bench and told me to sit. He handed me his plastic bottle of water, hesitant I rejected it but he insisted. I pressed the mouth against my lips and took a small sip. He lit up another cigarette and took several inhales before he asked, "What do you mean?"

I grimaced at his thick-headedness as I pressed my head against the brick wall behind us. "You saved me," I murmured to confused to give a solid tone, "You beat the other guys up yesterday after school."

•••

His eyes widened, "Oh fuck, that was you." I nodded solemnly, my expression reflecting his. He put his head into his hands, "Fuck if my parents find about that they will kill me."

He pulled his head back up and stared at me sternly and said "You can't tell anyone about that. You hear me? Nobody at all."

I nodded again and closed my eyes, I must've let out a painful groan because suddenly Mason said, "We need to get you to the office, you need to go home.

" I shook my head, "No, really, I'm fine. Don't worry about me, you're missing class anyway."

After a few minutes of arguing he took me to the office and told them to call home. The receptionist shook her head after the failed attempts of ringing Lucille and explained, "You're parent cannot pick you up at the moment so If you want to go home, get this signed by your teacher and you are allowed to leave the school on your free will." She handed me a signed slip and gave me a little smile. We walked out of the small office.

"Well, thats completely fucked up. I guess we need to go get Ms. Porter to sign this off." He walked up the stairs with me trailing behind.

"You know what, fuck it. I'm going to drive you home." He looked back and stopped he fumbled through his back pocket and got out a pair of keys with a red keychain of an arrow.

"No, it's alright. I could walk home, I mean I barely know you and I like to walk." I panicked but he didn't listen, he just raised a eyebrow and continued walking up the stairs.

We ended up getting the slip signed, by adding both his and my name on it, and began walking to the car park where assumingly his car was parked. It was a old red convertible with its wheels worn down and its hood rusted. The seats were cream coloured leather and it smelt like tobacco and cologne. I opened the door tentatively and sat down, putting my bag on my lap.