Danger Signs // Demi Lovato // 4

4. Don't Even Try

The next day came too fast.

One minute, I was shooting a raider, and the next thing I knew, Demi had come in to wake me up. I was still wearing the shirt I wore the previous day, since I had only bothered to change pants.

Demi didn't say anything about it, or about how my controller was sticking out from under my pillow. She just told me to get ready. I sighed as she left, seeing my phone was dead. I must have forgotten to put it on the charger.

I put it on charge while I changed into some gray skinny jeans and a red T-shirt with a black and white flannel and black vans. I took my time, brushing my teeth and hair, and even took some time to do my makeup. Foundation, mascara, and a little blush like usual, but I filled in my eyebrows, added some contour and highlight, and a touch of red lipstick, all like Maia had taught me to do. My skills were nowhere near hers, but she taught me well.

By the time I had everything ready, my phone was at forty percent.

At forty seven, Demi yelled up to me to hurry up.

This is just gonna have to work.

I unplugged my phone, and made my way downstairs, bag on one shoulder. I was about to drop it so I could eat, but I was pushed to the door.

"Sorry, sweetie, you took too long," Demi told me, shoving some granola bars at me.

"See you later, Rosie!" Maia called after me.

I managed a smile that I wasn't sure she saw. "Why are you driving me today?" I asked, trying not to offend Demi.

"Maia has to go to work soon and I wanted to personally make sure your schedule was taken care of."

I just nodded, sliding into her car, unwrapping one of the chocolate and peanut butter bars.

"Don't even think about leaving your trash in here," Demi said, beginning to drive out of the garage once the door opened.

"I'm not," I said defensively. Jeez, it was like she barely knew me sometimes. I always cleaned up after myself. She was probably just nagging me because she was a little stressed. Or maybe a lot.

The rest of the ride was silent. My thoughts wandered to Demi's upcoming tour for her last album. She had been putting it off so she could be at home with me, and Maia too, but she and I both knew Demi was anxious to get back on the road. I had also overheard a phone conversation in which it was stated that if she didn't get back on the road by the end of the year, her label was going to drop her.

I'd heard Maia telling her she'd be fine with me, and I don't think Demi thought differently, but something always seemed to get in the way of a tour happening.

Suddenly the car stopped, and I grabbed my bag, shoving my empty wrappers in the side pocket. I followed a very confident—ha ha—Demi into the school and straight to Stricker's office. Mrs. Olsen seemed to know not to interfere.

Demi opened the door, Stricker looking startled at his desk. I could've swore he cursed under his breath, then proceeded to straighten his tie.

"Oh, Mrs. Lovato." He learned from yesterday. "How can I help you?"

"I just wanted to make sure Rosie's new schedule was in order." She didn't bother sitting. With her all black outfit and sleeked ponytail, she looked like one of those really rich and fancy moms who go to country clubs. A black fur coat would have suited her outfit—and attitude—perfectly.

"Right, of course." He turned to the printer, pulling a sheet off the top. "It's right here. I, um, kept everything the same, but she does have the new biology teacher like you asked."

"You... kept everything the same?" Demi repeated his words, sounding dumbstruck.

"Well, you see, I just moved Miles into different classes." He was so nervous. In all my time here, I'd never seen him sweat so much.

"Oh, I see," Demi said, pleased. "How thoughtful of you."

He nodded, handing her the schedule to give to me. "If that's all..."

"I believe so. If there's any other problems, Rosie will let you know."

We left the office, and Demi told me to have a good day and to remember my promise from yesterday.

As I was told, everything was the same, aside from first period biology. The first bell had already rang, so the halls were full as I tried to make my way to class.

My new teacher was a woman, probably in her thirties, named Ms. Collins. Luckily, I knew where her class was, so I didn't get lost, but unluckily, the reason I knew was because both Brie and Emma were in her class.

As I walked in, I saw some kids at the back tables—she has those tables where two people sit next to each other—and Ms. Collins at her desk. Her eyes darted up to me and she smiled, standing to grab some papers from the long desk at the front of the room.

She explained what we were going over, which was about where I'd left off in my other class. She also told me she had to make a few small changes to the seating chart, so she pointed to one of the tables near the middle of the room. I sat on the left, a little closer to the door and set my bag down under the table so it wouldn't be in the way. I sat there awkwardly for a moment, hands clamped between my knees so nobody could see how badly I was shaking.

My shaking only intensified when the bell rang again and Brie and Emma walked in, laughing. Well, until they saw me.