The Rules of Survival (Mercer #1)

RoS Chapter Five

Chapter Five

"I couldn't find it."

I sat down beside Mycha, straddling the bench seat. It had taken a while to find him in the school's cafeteria, the large room jam-packed full of rambunctious teens that all looked alike if you weren't watching too closely. Of course, I was trying to spot a flash of faded denim as I searched the rows, but Mycha had decided my jacket made a fantastic cushion for his textbook.

On either side of the table his friends stopped what they were doing and, with startling synchronization all heads swiveled my way. This, among other reasons, was why I never hung out with my little brother at school. I may have been lacking in the friend department, but I considered it a step up from spending time with these idiots.

Whenever I approached Mycha at school and the Goon Squad was around, they stopped whatever they were doing to gape at me. Despite Mycha's reassurances that it had nothing to do with me and everything to do with them, most times I ended up rubbing a hand over my face, convinced something was stuck to it.

Apparently my reputation preceded me no matter how hard I tried to explain I wasn't some freak who thrived on pummeling anyone that looked sideways at me. Yes, I'd been in a few fights over the years – okay, more than a few. But if someone bothered to ask how many of them I'd started, they'd realize I was only ever defending myself. Most times. It wasn't my fault trouble seemed to follow me around with a neon sign saying "Kick me, I love it!"

"Guys," I said, waving a hand at his gawking friends in greeting.

The two across from me blushed scarlet and averted their eyes, the one sitting on Mycha's other side suddenly staring at his lunch like it held the secrets of the universe.

"Couldn't find what?" Mycha asked absently, turning a page in his textbook.

Then he snapped his head around to look at me so fast he almost gave himself whiplash. "Did you just get here?"

"Yeah. I scoured that cemetery from top to bottom. Then I dropped the car off and walked back. I don't know why I bothered, the day's almost over," I grumbled, though I knew exactly why I'd made an appearance – to ensure nobody had taken an interest in Mycha and started harassing him.

My frigid hands tingled as I rubbed them together in my lap, encouraging some warmth to chase away the numbness that always accompanied the cold. If this ridiculous weather kept up, we'd be getting snow a lot sooner than I anticipated.

"Here," Mycha said, yanking my jacket from under his mammoth textbook and throwing it at me.

"No." I handed it back. "It's yours until I can replace the one I lost."

Finding the cash needed for food and bills was going to be a miracle in itself, but now I had the added cost of a winter coat as well. My stomach churned with dread and unease as my resolve set in; I knew what it would take to get that kind of money fast, and that I'd have to start tonight.

I'd naively clung to the hope that Mycha's jacket would be lying right where I finally remembered leaving it at Kalen's grave. I hadn't realized I'd been muttering a prayer until I'd discovered the jacket missing and my hopes dashed. A thorough search of the rest of the cemetery proved fruitless as well.

Then I'd been side tracked by someone lurking at the roadside some fifty feet away. Dressed in black, and with a hood shadowing his face, I couldn't make out any of his features. But even without seeing his eyes I knew with startling clarity he was looking at me. Watching. Waiting. But for what?