chapter 12

Addi's POV:

  There was not a single human I would ever voluntarily allow to drop me home. If I could walk home at the ghost hours of 3 in the morning, I was not afraid of much else, despite my fear of the dark. So, how I got into Greg's car, with full intention of directing him to the place I now call home, was mystifying. I would not be surprised if I had been drugged, explaining why I had no recollection of how I ended up in the front seat of Xavier Greg's sports car, that probably cost more than my own net worth. 

"You loved that adrenaline rush, didn't you?" He smiled, glancing at me, momentarily. 

"What?" I stuttered. The word 'adrenaline', in his presence, took me back to the day at the cemetery, the day of my suspension. 

"Adrenaline junkie." He laughed. My heart skipped a beat, with his direct reference to that day. I was under the impression that we were pretending the day never happened, and I was perfectly fine with that. "After going to your old house?" Leave it to Greg to pick the topic of conversation; only the most patronizing subjects that made my heart all warm and weird. 

"It was..." I couldn't find it in myself to finish the sentence. 

It was different. It was exhilarating. It was overwhelming. It was a chapter of my past, of my safe place, the part of my mind I buried myself in when I didn't want to be in the present. 

"It was refreshing." He answered for me. "Because you were always too scared to do it before, and you've finally done it." I smiled to myself, looking down at my hands in my lap. It was true, and he was right. Not that I would say that out loud, of course, just thinking it hurt my brain. 

"Something like that, yeah." I chuckled. When my parents had just passed, Maurice would keep telling me that she would prefer it if we used that house to play in. She hated Nans place, and sometimes I wanted to go back, but I knew what trespassing was, and if my uncle caught us, that would be the end of my chance of ever getting it back. 

"By the looks of it, I don't think you're uncle was ever there to notice if y'all went." I heard Greg say. I bent forward, resting my head in my hands, and my elbows on my knees. Did I ever learn to tame my tongue. I didn't bother replying, seeing that I had had no intention of thinking out loud, I hadn't thought of a reply for Greg's. "Can I ask you something?" His voice dropped.

"There's no harm in asking, but there's no guarantee that I'll answer." I said, after a moments hesitation. 

"Why do you put up with Maurice?" Greg took his eyes off the road to take in my reaction. "I mean, she's not a great person," He added after a second of silence. "You looked amazing in the dress, by the way, I don't know why she said that to you when you tried it on the other day." I felt my cheeks burn with the rush of blood, and I bit my lip in an attempt to hold back a smile. 

"She's..." I murmured, looking up from my lap, shaking my hair out of my face. I laughed at how ridiculous I felt, unable to word my thoughts. "I don't know," I answered, "I guess she was all I had left after my parents death. She was the only person in school who didn't treat me like a glass object, or like something delicate and fragile."

"You mean, she didn't treat you like you had just lost your parents." Xavier simplified, speaking the words, blunt and open. This time I smiled, nodding. "And now?" 

"Now?" I repeated, questioningly. 

"It's been four years, surely people don't still treat you that way." Greg said, tilting his head towards me, but keeping his eyes on the road ahead. "Hell, you were suspended recently. Why do you still stick with Maurice, when others can treat you just fine?" I remained silent. I knew I did not have an answer this time. I merely shrugged. 

"She's good in her own way." The words slipping off my tongue would not have even convinced Kevin, and him being so gullible, he was almost stupid. I heard Greg snort in disbelief beside me, and I forced myself to smile. "I always have Danya." I shrugged, sounding more like I was trying to convince myself.

"In school?" Greg asked, just when I began to believe he was about to drop the subject. I swallowed hard, trying to form a reasonable explanation for my friendship with Maurice. 

  She blatantly uses me. I was like her maid, carrying all her shopping bags, and chasing her from store to store. I was her wing woman, hooking her up with countless guys that she would use and spit out within days. I was her tutor, seeing I was the reason she passed the GCSE, copying every answer, changing a few words here and there to avoid getting caught. What had she done for me, ever? She helped in making me look a little less like a loner, and spending time with me when the other girls were busy. I guess she lent me her skirt from New Look for the New Years party, but in retrospect it was only because Danya had invited me and I was forced to take her as my plus one. She had offered to dare Mason and I to seven minutes in heaven when I was head over heels in love with him, two years ago. That plan didn't work out because Sasha had dared Maurice and Mason for the same thing, and Maurice would never give up an opportunity to have her tongue down somebody's throat. If she was a good friend, I guess she should have refused, given her full knowledge of my craze over Mason. But she didn't. And this being the first party I had ever attended without her, in a dress she openly abused on my body, I was petrified of the consequences. Would she tell everyone about my crush for Mason? Would she show them the pictures of me in the mud mask she'd insisted on putting on me? My greatest fear, and the most probable, was that she'd openly humiliate my lifestyle with Nans and Kevin, and the tiny shack we lived in, compared to the mansions some of the better-off kids in school had. That's it, I was scared of what she'd do. I was scared of Maurice. 

"She's a loser." Xavier laughed, but it wasn't genuine, he was trying to brighten the mood I'd left hanging after the long speech I didn't know I was giving. I swear, my tongue had a mind of it's own. 

"She's supposed to be my friend." I whispered.

"If she was, you wouldn't have given up that opportunity to blast some sarcastic comment in her defense." Greg chuckled, and I rolled my eyes, smiling, nonetheless. 

"Shut up before I make you." I answered, directing him to the right. 

"How exactly do you plan on making me?" He smirked, glancing at me, mischief dancing in his eyes. Greg's lack of decency had temporarily left my notice, but he could not resist reminding me. 

"By cutting off your tongue." I smirked back, using as seductive a tone as he had, and taking victorious pleasure as I watched his expression fall.

"You're supposed to play along." He whined. The previously teasing voice was immediately replaced with the cranky tone of a toddler deprived of candy. 

"If I played along, I'd end up in a very uncomfortable position." I said, plainly. 

"Very uncomfortable, indeed." He smirked, his ridiculous, jovial expression returned, and I basked in the warmth of the easy atmosphere, as compared to the thick environment my realization towards Maurice had left hanging. I chuckled, shoving him, lightly. 

"Here, stop here." I pointed to the left, and I felt his car slow down. I reached over and unbuckled my seatbelt. 

"Sure." He reached over to unbuckle himself, when I panicked. 

"NO!" I jumped, all too suddenly. Grabbing his hand to stop him. His head shot up to look at me, so fast it undoubtedly gave him whiplash. " You don't need to get out of the car." I stuttered, desperately trying to keep my voice even and recover from startling him. 

"Well, I'm not afraid of-"

"I'll be fine." I smiled. Well, I tried to smile, I don't actually know what it turned to look like. But it was enough keep Greg where he was seated, until I got out of the car. I waved him goodbye, after gesturing that he should drive away. 

  As soon as his headlights turned the corner, I jumped the gate, sneaking over the front lawn of the 'Carmichaels', or so the postbox read. I easily hoisted myself over their wall, with a little help from their garbage bin, and into the next property. By the time I'd reached the other end of the street, there was nobody there,and I was safe from Greg ever finding out that he had not actually drop me home.  

I watched my breath blow out of my lips, and I tugged at the hem of my dress, attempting to pull it lower. Suddenly, I wished I had a jacket. Walking home at 3 in the morning usually put me on edge. Walking home, skimpily dressed, in the 3 AM darkness made me tremble. The rows of houses along the street grew sparse, and then once I hit the gas station, fear overtook my senses.

  When the wind made the leaves rustle, I would gasp and look around, expecting someone to jump out at me with a weapon. I longed for some sense of civilization; a car driving past, another store, a brighter functional street lamp. I knew, however, that my wishes would remain wishes. There was no store for another two kilometers at least, no car was going to drive past, unless some idiot had the bright idea to head out of town at this demonic hour, and I was lucky that there were any street lamps at all, even if they flickered off and on, constantly.

  My shadow on the road ahead of me began growing shorter, as if a light was appearing behind me. Was there somebody behind me with a torch? Did he have a weapon in the other hand? Could it be more than one person? I wanted to turn around, to see who I was about to go up against, but fearing what I would see, my brain failed to give the command to my body. My shadow was decreasing in size, rapidly, whoever was behind me was approaching faster than I thought, but I could not get myself to turn around.

Just glance, before it's too late. I thought to myself.

Now! I urged, knowing that I was about to lose my only chance. The torches shone two wide circles of light. Definitely more than one person, for sure.

  RUN! I begged myself. Apparently rebelling against myself, I stopped walking entirely, slowly I turned around, expecting to see the silhouette of two predators, but instead, I see the sleek hood of an unmistakable sports car.

  Unsurprisingly, the only douche that would make the classic choice of bringing his expensive lifestyle to this side of town would be Xavier Shithead Greg. Equally astonishing, was I felt relief as this information dawned on me. 

"Come on, Addi." His voice was soothing, and I felt his arm wrap around me before I saw his huge, muscular outline, against the headlights of his car. I, momentarily, let myself sink into the assuring embrace, letting the small spark of safety light up my insides. Greg might be a bloody dick, but he was not a predator. "Let me drop you home." And so, I made the very regrettable decision of letting Xavier Greg, mansion-dweller, sports car owner take me all the way to the little house at the end of town.