Chapter Six

If Kyson drives to school any slower, he's going to receive a ticket for driving under the speed limit. I swear he's doing this to torture me for pure sport. He gets off on getting any kind of rise out of me. If I didn't detest my mother so freaking much, I'd almost be tempted to track her down and beg her to take me in. Anything to escape this slow suffocation of being trapped alone in this car with my tormentor.

"You should stay away from Lauren."

"Why?"

"Being seen with her is social suicide. Chick is weird."

"She's nice."

"She's a wannabe."

"What's wrong with wanting to fit in?"

"She's only being nice to you to get close to my friends."

"News flash. Sorry to be the one to break it to you, but not everything is about you and your constant need to have your ego stroked."

"I have something else you can stroke." He flashes a cocky smile my way and I want to punch him straight in the junk for looking so kissable when he's being a complete ass.

"Is everything a joke with you? Do you take anything seriously?"

"Not really. I don't see the point. We'll all die sooner or later. May as well make the most of it."

I turn toward the window, not needing a reminder of how quickly life can end.

My father is barely cold in the ground.

How'd I'd give nearly anything to hug him again.

The fact that I never will hurts like hell.

Finally, we arrive at school. I'm ready to jump out before the car has rolled to a complete stop. I squeeze the handle, and Kyson's hand on my upper thigh stops me. "I'll see you at lunch, lil' doll."

I glower at him but keep my mouth shut. There's no way I'm sitting with him at lunch. I'd rather eat in the bathroom.

"Yo," Gauge calls out, tapping on the driver's side window. "Coach wants to see us."

I smile to myself. I bet him and his wolf pack are about to catch hell for landing in detention and missing practice. Serves them right. They rule the school my butt. With Kyson distracted, I scurry from the vehicle and dart across the parking lot before the first bell sounds.

Lauren waits right inside the door for me and I'm grateful to have someone normal to talk to. "What's your schedule? I meant to text last night and forgot. Anything juicy or exciting happen? Like, what was the deal this morning? Oh my God! Is that a hickey?" She touches my neck. "Are you hooking up with Kyson?" She shrieks his name as Britney struts past us.

"Would you keep it down? I burned myself with my curling wand." I fish my schedule out of my binder. "Help me find my locker. Please."

"Sure. This is great. We have every class together except last period. Do you need a ride today or are you riding with…," she leans in close, "Kyson?" her voice barely an audible whisper.

"I'll meet you in the parking lot after the last bell."

"Cool. Cool. Your locker is right this way. Same hall as me, by the library."

I pray that means it's also away from the locker rooms and the jerk jocks. "Thanks, Lauren. I really appreciate you. It's hard being new and not having friends."

"And call me Lo, because your secrets are safe with me. Get it? Like down low. You can count on me. And trust me, once people figure out who you are, there won't be a shortage of people lining up to be your best friend."

"Because of Kyson?" I shake my head as she grins big. "Ugh." I twist the dial on the combination lock.

"Well, that and the fact you're new here and mysterious. No one knows a thing about you. You show up after the first term and on your first day here you land yourself in detention with the wolf pack. You're interesting."

"I'm not interesting."

"Of course you are. You live with Kyson Allen. No one knows why that is, so of course, the rumors are rampant. Not to mention that the scene between you and Britney at the arcade is making rounds."

"News travels fast. How do you know all this?"

"I'll show you at lunch."

My stomach sinks at the thought of entering that cafeteria after what happened yesterday with Kyson and his friends. I don't want a repeat.

"Come on. Ms. Shetfield doesn't take kindly to tardiness."

My cell phone vibrates from the outer pocket of my backpack. "Go ahead. I'll be right there."

Lauren's thin lips press tight together, but she doesn't question me.

I know you said we'd talk later. Just wanted you to tell you that I think about you all the time.

Oh Matt.

I start to shoot off a text when the force of someone yanking on my backpack straps interrupts me. "I'm supposed to walk you to class." Kyson smirks over my shoulder, trying to read my phone. "He thinks about you all the time," he mocks, lips grazing my ear.

"Leave me alone, Kyson."

"Nah. Don't think I will." He jerks my phone from my grasp. "What should I text back to Dear ol' Matt?"

"Stop. He's a good friend."

"Is that what you call it?"

"Please. I don't want to be late for class."

"Worried Uncle John will be disappointed?"

"Yesterday certainly didn't help," I snap, reaching for my phone. "Give it back."

"Or what? You'll go tattle on me again? Prove you're more trouble than you're worth." His unnerving stare pierces me straight to my soul.

Unshed tears burn the backs of my eyes as the warning bell rings. Hating that he's right, I grip the straps of the backpack, biting my bottom lip, willing myself not to cry in front of him. He's not worthy of my tears.

The final bell rings and Kyson tucks my phone back in my backpack. "See you at lunch, dolly." He pats the top of my head as if I'm a dog he expects to come to heel.

"Stop calling me that," I mutter, but he's already gone around the corner. Swiping the lone tear that broke free, I make a mad dash for my class. By the time I arrive, the door is shut, and everyone is in their seats. I slip into an empty seat in the back, hoping the teacher doesn't notice how tardy I am, but I can feel her judgmental glare from the front of the class.

Please don't call on me.

Please don't call on me.

"We have a new student this morning. Miss Darlington, stand up and tell us where you're from and what brings you to our school."

Lauren looks back at me from the front row, offering me a meek smile.

Sweat slicks my palms and my tongue sticks to the roof of my dry mouth as I rise from my seat, wishing I could disappear. There are at least thirty sets of eyes on me. The bitter truth of why I'm here would certainly give them something to talk about, but I refuse to use my father's death for sympathy. "Hi. My name is Dahlia. I'm here at the invitation of my extended family." Short and vague, but to the point.

"Thank you, Dahlia. Class starts at eight fifteen. You'll do well to remember that tomorrow."

"Yes, Ma'am." I drop back to my seat quickly as hushed whispers float around the room. I don't have to hear what they are gossiping about to realize that I'm the topic of their conversations. It's going to be hard enough to focus with Kyson torturing me every moment of his spare time. I don't need to concern myself with what a bunch of strangers think they may or may not know about me.

In a week they will have a new topic, and I'll be old news.

That's how it worked at my old school.

My plan is to lay low and fly under the radar as much as possible until graduation.

However, as I look around the room, noting how the others keep looking back at where I sit, that may be easier said than done. Between trying to graduate, my social status, and battling it out with Kyson on top of grieving for my father, I have my work cut out for me.

I already have several targets on my back, and I've not been enrolled at this school for a full day. At least I don't spot Britney in this class. If I'm lucky, I won't share any with her or Kyson and his crew.

By the time lunch rolls around, I'm sick of introducing myself and having everyone stare at me like they either hate me or want to be me.

It's creepy.

There's nothing special or great about living with Kyson.

Someone said that I must be the luckiest girl in the world.

If that were true, my father would have survived the accident that claimed his life and I wouldn't even be here in the first place.

I dip into the library to escape Kyson. I'm starving, but hunger pains are a price I'm willing to pay to avoid him and his ludicrous demands. As soon as I step into the library, a peaceful silence surrounds me, creating a sense of tranquility. The creaking floors, turning pages, and humming voices create a comforting symphony. As I inhale, the aroma of old books and worn leather fills my senses, bringing me a soothing comfort, reminding me of one of my favorite bookstores back home.

Books have always been my favorite escape.

In search of solitude, I locate a secluded corner and settle into a luxurious armchair, immersing myself in the pages of my one of my favorite books, Wuthering Heights. The words blur together as I read, but I force myself to focus, letting the world around me fade away. Forgetting Kyson and his torturous lips. Pretending that I didn't cheat on my boyfriend.

"Missed you at lunch. Have you been hiding here the whole period?" A soft voice startles me out of my concentration. I glance up from the tumultuous relationship between Catherine and Heathcliff to be greeted by Lauren's friendly smile.

"I wasn't that hungry."

"Well, I got you a brownie and a frappe from the vending machine just in case you need a sugar boost."

"That's very thoughtful. Thank you."

"Do you have to go straight home after school?"

"No. Why?"

"Because Thursdays are the best day to watch football practices."

"And why is that?"

"Shirtless, sweaty, hot guys. Duh."

I roll my eyes, but watching one practice can't hurt.