Twenty-Two

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The next day, I continued to be the good boy I was –lie. During lunch time when Taylor is going to get her books back to her locker, I sort of did a little something that might get her framed a bit. Anyways, I'd be in the scene too so I figured, I'd take the blame this time.

I got pushed by Nathan as he walked his way through the halls. He snickered.

"Sod off." I muttered, rolling my eyes, continuing my tracks and keeping a good mental note to burn that lad alive. I wish it was legal to do that.

I focused my mind on making my way to Taylor. But then, when I got there, she'd already have her hand on the string that should activate something.

"So now, you're going to stop me?" I asked, wiggling my eyebrow.

She looked at me first, "What will it do?" She asked yet her hand is still on the nylon string, attached above to that big white tarpaulin above us. I'd feel suffocated if that happens and I'd like to get out of here as possible.

"Party time." I answered. "Say, if you're going to pull it out, I'd hold it for you and give you about five seconds to run." I offered with a smile.

She turned around and took out her pen that had been marked with Riptide –courtesy of 1:49 AM. She uncapped the part that reveals the mini-knife.

That gave me a slight second to decide whether she really is going to cut it. The way her mind works, I know she knows that cutting it will be the same as pulling it.

"No way." I said, grinning. "I thought you were going to stop me."

"I am." She said. She held that piece of nylon string and cut it, yet, she's still holding it.

"Now, would you please hold it for me?" Taylor asked sweetly. I groaned, I know exactly where I'm getting myself into. I looked up and I saw the tarpaulin above us. But I did tell her I'd hold it for her.

"No." I said, trying to resist as possible.

"Please." She said.

"Taylor, I know what you're doing and don't give me that load of--"

She laughed, rolling her eyes. "Ready?"

"What?!" I yelled, is she really going to do it?! "Princess, you're not that serious!"

"I might be." She smiled sweetly. She looked up and looked at her wristwatch, "You got ten seconds."

"What?!" I yelled. She can't be serious about this! We're both in the range of the tarp damn it.

"Ten."

"Bloody hell!" I exclaimed.

"Nine." She continued, using her tone of mischief.

"No." I said, I'm still under the freaking tarp, both of us are, along with a few more dozens. I don't like it! I don't like the feeling of being suffocated, –well, who does?– but the thing is, I don't like it when it's made my own hands. . . like when you put a blanket over your face and you couldn't breathe. But this one is worse, under a tarpaulin, with a hundred people and close to Taylor –the last one wouldn't be so uncomfortable though, she always smells like cinnamon and coffee. . . it's relaxing.

"Eight."

"Taylor, what would make you stop? I'll do it." I said, because even if I ran, I wouldn't want her to be under the white tarp.

She shook her head, "Seven."

"Honestly, what?"

"Jump off a bridge." She said, "Six."

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