The creaky old bus jostled under the weight of the mass of students. Each bump threw a notebook across the seats and each pothole resulted in a chorus of "whoops" and cheers. I remained silent in my seat, doing everything in my power to not draw attention to myself. Just three more stops.
"Oh hey Scarlett! How's your mom doing?" I turned my head away from their snickering and mock sympathy. I dug my nails into my palm, hoping that would take my mind off mom. Physical pain was the one thing I could control in my life. Emotional, not so much.
I turned up the volume of music on my phone and pressed my forehead against the cool glass of the window. The freezing sensation seeped through my head and into my brain, numbing my thoughts to a dull buzz.
Finally, the bus clambered down the smooth pavement and inched to a stop in front of a massive mansion. A familiar face popped out of the front door, retreated, then appeared once again with his backpack in hand. I let a warm smile creep across my face as my best friend happily hopped up the bus steps and down the aisle. He butt-bumped by backpack out of the way and sank down into the worn-down leather seats, his thigh pressed against mine.
"Hey Scar. Who do I need to beat up today?" His teasing tone showed hints of sympathy; he knew how agonizing the wait for those three stops to be over was. Shaking my head, I let out an airy laugh.
"Hmm...let me thing about that--how about the entire student body?"
"Challenging, but manageable. Especially with guns like these," he wiggled his eyebrows as he flexed his muscles, "You know I'd beat anyone up for you anyway."
"Right. Well, you let me know when you do that. Oh, would you look at that, we're at school! Let's get going then," I said with fake cheer, desperate to take the subject off me. Rolling his eyes, Lucas slung his bag over his shoulder and led me off the bus. "Careful, your eyes are gonna get stuck like that if you--" his large hand covered my mouth. I struggled and groaned, giving him my best puppy dog eyes.
"Careful, wouldn't want you eyes stuck like that," he scolded in a mocking tone. Resisting the urge to slap him, I shook my head and dragged my feet to my locker. No point in hiding the fact that I would rather watch a thirty-seven hour documentary on toenails than be in this hellhole. I begrudgingly bid my goodbye to him and went to my first period class. The faces that surrounded me in the room, talking animatedly and laughing in screeches, where just that: faces. I ignored them.
"If you are all not in your seats by the time I set my briefcase on my desk so help me God each and every one of you will have in school suspension for the next week." Gotta love Mr. Staylor. "And you uh-um Miss...Blake! Ah yes that's it! anyway go down to the office your father is here to pick you up." Dread filled me to the brim.
I forced myself down the stairs and into the main office to face my despicable father. A pleading look crossed his face.
"Scarlett please come home with me, it's important."
"I don't have to do anything you want me to do," I snapped back placidly. Technically, I did by law, but I chose to ignore that.
"They got a lead on your mother."
