Chapter 4

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"It seems that Alaina has a concussion." The nurse stated plainly.

"How?" I asked. What the heck was she doing to get a concussion?

"Her friends said that a soccer ball hit her. Apparently someone had kicked it and it hit her just right."

I roll my eyes.

"Did they get in trouble?" I ask her, annoyed at her lack of information.

She smooths down her white shirt and readjusts her glasses. "Mr. Cuppling said he would have a chat with them to discuss their punishment. Detention, I suppose."

My mom walks in through the side door and hurriedly leans down to Lainie's side.

"Are you okay, honey?" She coos. "I'll get you some ice cream; whatever kind you want."

"I'm fine. I want a fudge sundae." Lainie says, sounding weak.

Hmph. I never get sundaes.

"Mrs. Mathers, you can check her out in the main office. Jada, you can head to class. I've written you a pass." The nurse hands me a bright pink slip of paper.

Jayda Mathers

12:15

Scott

She spelled my name wrong.

"I guess I'll see you later." I say after my mom.

She's too preoccupied with Lainie to notice me.

I walk out of the nurse's office and toward the stairs on the left. It's already well into 5th period by now, so everyone's gonna stare at me when I walk in.

The halls are eerily empty, which I like. With every step I take up the stairs, I hear a soft echo.

When I reach Mrs. Scott's classroom, the door is closed, but I can see through the window that everyone is already working together.

Carson's alone and looks like he's doodling something.

I turn the handle and push the door open.

No one really turns to look.

I walk to Mrs. Scott's desk and she looks up and smiles. "Oh, hey! I'm glad you're here!"

"Thanks." I smile.

I hold the pink slip out to her and she skims over it before taking it and throwing it away.

"Jadaaa!" Carson exclaims as he looks up at me.

"Hi," I smile happily. "What are you doing?"

He sighs and shoves the paper toward me.

On the paper, he's drawn a set of cupcakes. In the top right corner, written in adorably sloppy handwriting, there's a list of flavors: Chocolate, vanilla, BACON!!!

A wide smile spreads across my face.

"This- this is good," I tell him. "I like it."

"Are you sure? I didn't really do anything." He says, looking slightly guilty.

"Yes. The flavors are perfect."

He grins. "Could we actually put bacon in them?"

"Yeah, but only in yours," I giggle. "Oh, yeah, and my mom said she would write us a bus note."

"Cool. Who's house then?" He asks.

"Well," I think for a second. "It's up to you."

"I think," he starts. "That you should come to my house."

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