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Punk 57(110)

Author:Penelope Douglas

Annie’s? His sister?

And then my eyes go wide, and I turn to him, remembering what I’d said. “Oh, my God,” I burst out. “Annie. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean what I said.”

I cringe at myself. I called her a skank, thinking she was some random girl who’d left her clothes behind in his truck. Shit.

“It’s okay.” He gives a half-smile. “I know you didn’t know.”

Ugh. I feel sick. I’m the worst.

“Well, you couldn’t give it to me anyway,” I scold. “She’d want it back.”

He grows quiet, avoiding my eyes.

I’d totally forgot his sister in all the drama. She’s a junior. Where was she last night? His dad must’ve come home during my nap, because Misha had to lock the door later on so he wouldn’t walk in on us, but Annie was never mentioned.

“Mr. Laurent.”

I turn my head to see Principal Burrowes coming down the hallway. Students move around her, everyone heading to their first class.

“In my office,” she orders. “Now.”

He turns away from her. “No, thanks.”

I stand frozen, watching. Just go, Misha. She’s not going to let him off the hook, and it’s only going to escalate.

“Now.”

“I’d rather not leave my friend alone when that piece of shit son of yours is roaming the halls,” he snarls. “Aren’t there laws about sexual predators not allowed to be within a certain number of feet from a school?”

Anger mars her face. “If I have to ask again, I’m calling the police.”

“Mi—Masen,” I corrected myself. “Just go.”

Burrowes puts her hand on his back and gestures for him to move.

But he whips away from her touch, scowling. “Fuck you.” He glares at her and then turns to me. “I’m leaving. I’m done here. I’ll be at the Cove after school.”

“What?” I exclaim.

He kisses me on the forehead and shoots Burrowes one last look before walking down the hall and back out the front door. I look around and see that other students are watching the exchange.

Burrowes meets my eyes briefly, but she doesn’t go after him. Turning around, she walks back down the hallway and disappears into the throng of bodies rushing to class.

Misha’s gone, and I’m a little pissed he’d rather leave school and me than deal with her. If he moves back to Thunder Bay, I’ll barely see him. At least until summer break.

What the hell’s going on with him?

And now that I finally slow down enough to think about it, he still hasn’t answered all of my questions.

Why is here? Why did Trey have his watch? And why is he staying at the Cove?

Everyone heads to their next class or into lunch, and I stand next to the water fountain, filling up my water bottle. I don’t feel like braving the cafeteria today, even though I’m a little hungry.

I know I should go in. I should sit at a table without the armor of my phone, homework, or a book, and just be there. If I hear whispers, then so be it. Let them talk.

But I don’t have it in me today for some reason. Maybe I just don’t want to see them. Maybe I don’t feel like getting covered in juice when I have to be here half the evening.

Maybe I’m allowing myself to just wimp out today.

The hallway slowly empties, shoes squeak across the floor, and lockers slam shut. The clatter of trays and the chatter of conversations filter out into the hall, and I hear a door open to my left. Looking up, I see Trey coming out of the bathroom. He holds a black cord with a pennant attached to it, and he walks over to the garbage can, pulling it apart and breaking it, and then dumping it in the can.

That’s Manny’s, I think. It’s one of the gothy necklaces he wears with some band’s name on it or something.

Trey raises his eyes and sees me, and I twist the cap back on my water bottle and walk his way, staying far to the right to go upstairs to the library.

But he rushes over and stops me, caging me in against the wall.

I exhale a hard sigh, turning angry.

“Where’s your bodyguard?” he asks, leaning his hands on the wall at my sides and blocking my escape. “Oh, that’s right. I heard he bailed school. Is he coming back?”

I push at his arm, trying to slip away, but he pushes me back, and I drop my bottle.

“Get the hell away from me,” I growl.

“It’s your own fault,” he replies. “You shouldn’t be caught alone with me. You’ve been asking for this.”