Forever Living Hell (Darker Days Series #2)

Chapter 8: It's Thursday

So Thursday rolled around and I hopped out of my bed surprisingly happier than usual. The thirty minutes it took me to get ready for school seemed to go faster than usual, and I was surprised when I walked outside to see Jamison parked in the driveway.

I angrily stormed over to his car and knocked on the window. He rolled the window down.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" I asked.

"Taking you to school, what else would I be doing here?" He replied.

"Quite frankly, I don't know. Shouldn't you be giving Sydney a ride to school or something?" I folded my arms and glared at him.

"Yeah, well she's not home, okay?" He sighed. "Do you want a ride or not?"

"I'd rather die." I flipped him off and then walked over to my garage door before yelling at him. "Might wanna leave before I accidentally back my car into the hood of that beautiful Jaguar you've got there."

"When are you going to stop being mad at me?" He growled and hit his steering wheel.

"How does never work for you?" I snapped before disappearing into the garage. Inside, I unlocked my car and got in, started the car, put on my seatbelt, and slowly started backing out.

Eventually, he pulled out of my driveway and as well, driving to school alone. I took a different way to school also, just so I could avoid driving behind him.

At school, I completely ignored him in art class and sat in the library at lunch. No one suspected a thing in mechanics class, and my other classes went by fairly simply. After school, I drove home and waited till 4pm before I drove back and waited in my car. He'd be in the gym by now, so of course that meant I had to wait a while. Eventually, an hour had passed, and I looked into the windows that showed into the gym. There Jamison was, draping a towel over his shoulder as he left the gym.

Perfect. I then entered the school and went to the mechanics room. I grabbed a metal autopsy table and wheeled it all the way to the art room, along with some belts I had found.

I placed the table in the corner of the art room and came up with the perfect plan of attack.

When I left the art room, I ran around the corner just in time to see Jamison walking up the hall. He entered the art room, got some art supplies, and started working on a painting of his.

That was my que. I entered the art room and walked up behind him silently. "Jamison?"

He jumped and turned around. "Oh! Frannie, the heck, you scared me! What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to apologise." I pulled over a stool and sat down next to him. "For this morning." I sighed, trying to make my act believable.

"It's okay, I totally deserve that for what I did to you." He placed his hand on my shoulder.

I despised his touch now. "No, I could have at least been nicer about it.."

"No." He looked into my eyes.

I returned his gaze.

"I deserved that." He insisted. "And I wanna make it up to you."

I smiled a bit. What a joke. "How?"

"Well it's not fair that you got to see me like that and not be the one experiencing it." He stood up and looked down at me as he moved closer, his hands still on my shoulders.

Was he... Suggesting something inappropriate? "It doesn't matter." I stood and brushed his hands off me.

He dropped his hands to my waist and stepped too close for comfort. I backed up, one step ahead of him as I slowly moved towards the autopsy table.