Chapter Three

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Skylar’s P.O.V

“-Da hell?” Nate’s voice rose. “You want to do what now?”

“Nothing crazy, maybe just hang the supply teacher off the roof, or put worms down her shirt, you know?” I grinned wickedly.

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An Hour Earlier

The second day of school is when reality hits you.

You begin to get the torturous homework and have to wake up early in the morning to be exactly where you don’t want to be.

I was sitting on the cold metal bleachers in the gymnasium, probably my favourite room in the school.

On the bright white walls hung banners that were awarded to our school’s football team and the red painted floor had a carton illustration of our mascot, the cheetah.

This team was known nationwide for our deadly quarterback, our very own Nate.

A glass case in the corner of the gym held the various trophies for all the victories Nate had accomplished.

I was bored to death listening to the vice principle blabber endlessly about school expectations, bullying, etcetera, etcetera.

The students were talking amongst themselves, not interested in the speech either.

Nate’s head bobbed on my shoulder as his drool began to seep through my shirt. Surprisingly, Nate had managed to stay awake the first half of the assembly but by the time the blonde head was done talking, he was out cold.

“Wake up man, your slobber is ruining my shirt.”

Nate yawned loudly, opening his eyes slowly, wincing at the light. He looked at me questioningly and asked, “where am I? Who are you? Wait... are you my prince charming?!”

I laughed carelessly at his absurd behaviour. “Dude, your such a drama queen” I rolled my eyes at him, still chuckling.

Nate stood up and took a bow before leading the way off the bleachers.

Suddenly my phone blasted Wicked Games and the caller ID screen read Father.

“Uh, hey I’ll catch up with you later, I got to take this.”

Nate nodded his head and continued proceeding toward the exit doors. I took a deep breath, walked to the less crowded, far end of the gym and answered the call.

“Hello Father”.

“Son”, his voice was deep and cold, containing not an inch of regret for his doings.

Instantaneously, a surge of animosity flooded through me and I grinded my teeth angrily. I gripped my phone hard, on the verge of breaking it; waiting for him to beg for forgiveness for his connives.

Instead no voice came from the other end as an uncomfortable silence settled in. Occasionally, I could hear his weak breathing, but we stayed like this for a while, voiceless. Until finally, he spoke up.

“Look Skylar, I’m taking your mother with me to Cuba, she can help me with the business. We will remain there until the cops are no longer looking for me.”

I defied him.

“No! I will not let you, she has been through enough, understand. Stop hurting her.”

My voice quivered as my last sentence came out as a whisper.

“Mind your words Skylar. I am your father and I will do as I please. You may stay over at Nathaniel’s place until our depths are settled.” He told me sternly.

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