The Deal

Chapter 4: Deal!

HI! THIS PART HAS SEX, SOOOO WATCH OUT. I DON'T WANT ANGRY MOMS ON MY COMMENT BOX. LOL. 

-LIZZIE.

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Next day at school, River approached me first thing in the morning.

“Good Morning.” He greeted me.

I rolled my eyes. “You need to stop calling me in the middle of the night.” I told him.

“But I like the sound of your sleepy voice.”

What the hell? Is he flirting? How gross. He flirts like a stalker of a pop star, very creepy.

I didn’t mind him after that. I hated talking to him, or hearing him breathe. I can’t wait to kick his ass during the tests.

“So, you’re not going to agree to the deal?” he suddenly asked.

I faced him, looked deeply in his blue eyes, and said “No.”

He sat back to his seat, “I’ll still give you a chance to change your mind. Maybe you will after a couple of tests.” He smiled at me like a devil, waiting for his brilliant plan to take its place. His plan was indeed evil, because after that day, it was like I was cursed.

That week, we took quite a few tests, and when the results came, I was only either 2nd or 3rd in our class, and River always had perfect score. It was frustrating, and I tried to study even harder, but I can’t get a score higher that his. My parents were starting to ask questions about my academic performance, I was too scared to tell them the exact truth. I always tell them that I was doing great, but not that I’m only second, and the son of their greatest rival is kicking my ass.

During the time of my ass kicking, River didn’t say a word to me. He didn’t even looked at me, or walk in the same direction as me. He sat as far from me as possible during class, and tried to compromise with the teacher during group tasks. His actions made me more frustrated. He should be laughing at me now, what the hell is going in his crazy mind?

The month went on, and I was stressed out. My eye bags were abnormally deep, and I was so pale, because I would always spend my nights studying, instead of sleeping. I need to win; my system needs to feel the great feeling of being the first.

One day, my father seems to notice that I looked like a walking corpse.

“Are you alright, Addy?” he asked during breakfast, while I fiddle with my food trying to memorize terms for our test that day.

I didn’t hear him, and continued to fill my over-capacitated mind with terms.

“Addy.” He called again, much louder this time, making me jump.

“Yes?” I looked up, finding his worried expression.