If They Don't Kill Us... We Will

Chapter 4 - Cody

As soon as I entered the library, I caught the eye of my best friend Francesca.

She waved me over but I had only taken one step before Dexter stood in front of me.

“C’mon, come sit with me.”

I shot Cesca a nervous glance but she just shrugged, looking as bewildered as I felt.

But I obediently followed Dexter to a table in the corner of the room, worried he’d beat me up if I refused. He did seem to be trying harder to be nice to me though, I had no idea why.

“Sit,” Dexter said smiling, indicating a chair opposite him.

I sat down slowly. The only other people this side of the library was the football team’s captain and most popular guy in school Andrew Stevens and his girlfriend. But they looked pretty occupied so Dexter and I could talk without them overhearing. Shame really.

“So,” Dexter began. “The History project-”

“Why are you being so nice to me?” I interrupted. Then I clapped a hand to my mouth. No-one answered Dexter back and got away with it.

Dexter smirked. “Can’t I be nice for once?”

“No!” I almost said, but stopped myself in time. I remained silent.

“Answer me Cody,” he said, still smiling but this time I could hear the order in his voice.

“I-it’s just… I thought you were a bully Dexter,” I said lamely, staring at my clasped hands in my lap.

“Call me Dex. And I just want to be nice, OK?” he said, but his eyes flickered to Cesca who was frowning at a book.

I wasn’t stupid, I could see he was checking her out. In fact, he’d been checking her out for the past few weeks but hadn’t said anything. I suppose it would destroy his reputation if he went out with the ‘psycho chick’. I bet he was only being nice to me to get in her pants. Well I wasn’t going to make this easy for him. Why should I be nice and give him what he wants when he’s made my life hell for the past few years?

So I crossed my eyes and glared at him.

He laughed at my expression and reached across the table to grab my wrist.

I jumped and tried to pull it out his grasp but he just held on tighter.

“OK, this is how it’s gonna work. I’m going to be nice to you, you’re gonna be nice to me. As long as we’re partnered on this project you can’t get away, hear?”

He tightened his grip so his nails dug into my skin and I held back a gasp.

“S-so what? You want me to do the project by myself?” I demanded.

He smirked. “Nah, I can’t fail this class. It doesn’t matter what I want, but if you screw this up by telling anyone about what I tell you, you’re gonna wish you were never born.”

He smirked at my terrified expression, dug his nails into me for a few seconds more and then got up.

“I’ll meet you at my house at seven. Don’t be late,” he warned.

“I-I don’t know your address,” I stuttered.

He smirked. “I’ll pick you up. Where do you live?”

On the one hand I really didn’t want my worst enemy knowing where I lived. On the other, if I didn’t do what he said, I would find myself with my head in the toilet come Monday morning.

Dex seemed to notice my battling mind because he bent down close to my ear and whispered-

“You know, I have been pretty fair on you these last few years. I can make it much worse.”

With a resigning sigh, I buried my face in my arms.

“12 Avery Street,” I mumbled. “It’s the house to the right of the one with the blue roof.”

“Good.”

I heard his footsteps walk away from me but I didn’t move. What had I done to myself?

Eventually I got up and slung my bag over my shoulder. Ignoring the varies of homophobic comments, I made my way out the library.

I saw that guy from earlier, Finn Mercury or something approaching the library too but before he could open his mouth, I had gone.

I put my iPod on max volume to try and get all the events of the day out of my head but all it did was give me a headache. Great, maybe I could pretend to be ill so I didn’t have to go to Dex’s house.

Shrugging on a grey hoodie, I ran a hand through my hair and inspected my guy-liner. Good enough.

I glanced at the clock. 6:56. He’d be here soon.

I went down the stairs slowly, trying to take as long as possible but I still managed to reach the front door when the doorbell rang.

“Mum! I’m out!” I yelled. There was a grunt from the living room in response.

I sighed and reached for the door handle, twisting it to the left and opening the door.

“Come on,” Dex said, with no emotion.

I grabbed the keys and put them in my pocket along with my phone.

Dex led me to his car. He had a car? You would expect rich kids like Andy Stevens to have a car but the rest of us had to make do with walking or a crappy car.

Dex’s car was definitely not crappy. I didn’t know anything about cars but I knew this was a good type.

I opened the door to the passenger’s side and swung it shut again. Dex did the same on the driver’s side.

Without a word he put the keys in the ignition and the car began to vibrate beneath me. Soon we were off down the road and towards his house.

“This is your house?” I asked in surprise. I’d expected some lavish house, lined with stuff stolen from his victims, like some Saxon or whatever type of people it was.

But it was just a normal house, maybe a little rundown.

He nodded and I stepped out of the car. The cold air hit me like a knife and I shivered, rubbing my arms for warmth.

I followed the older guy to the front door and into the dark hallway beyond.

“Are your parents’ home?”

“No.”

Well so much for trying to make conversation. I thought he wanted me to be nice?

Dex led me up the stairs to a room which could only be his.

It had blue walls and a slight grey carpet. His clothes were flung in an untidy heap on his bed and there was a desk with a computer on the other side.

I was left standing by the door as he turned the PC on.

“You can sit down,” he said in amusement, turning to face me. “I won’t bite.”

Gingerly, I sat down on the messy bed as he logged on.

“OK freak,” he said, reverting back to his nickname for me. “What do you know about the prejudice about the ‘Black Community’ or whatever?”

“Well,” I said slowly, avoiding his gaze. “The South part of America was more prejudice towards blacks by the end of the 60s. However both the North and the South had segregated toilets, classrooms and there was even an idea to have a separate government.”

I stopped speaking when I notice Dex was trying to hide his snigger.

“What?” I demanded.

“Oh nothing,” he chortled. “You’re such a nerd, I never knew. You never speak up in class.”

“You wouldn’t either if the whole school hated you for something you couldn’t help,” I retorted.

I couldn’t be sure but I thought I saw guilt in Dex’s eyes. But as soon as I tried to get a closer look he had turned away from me.

“C’mon,” he said gruffly. “You dictate and I type.”