Betwixt (15 page)

"It doesn't matter."

"Yes it does. They were really rude."

Dale screeches to a halt in the now empty corridor.

"You've treated me like that before too."

"I know and I hate that I did. You don't know how many times I wish I could've taken it back."

Dale shakes his head and lets out a scoff. "It doesn't matter anymore. I'm used to this. Don't waste your anger on Amber. I'm fine."

"I so don't get you."

Throwing his hands in the air, Dale stops and turns to face me.

"Look, all people see is the scar and they label me straight away. I don't care. I know who I am and if two prissy rich chicks don't like it, I don't give a shit."

"You're lying. How can you not hate that scar? It's ruined your life."

A slow smile pulls Dale's face out of shape as he points to his face. "This right here, I wouldn't change it for anything."

He turns away and heads to class, leaving me standing in utter confusion.

Who talks like that?

I'm about to follow him and ask when I see Adam scuttling around the corner.

Why isn't he in class? Mr. Goody-good skipping out? That's not possible.

I glance at Dale's retreating form then move to follow Adam. He walks the corridor with his head down. His hands are shoved in his pockets. Where's the usual confident strut he does? Does he seriously rely on his car that much?

His car.

I frown.

Why can't I shake this feeling?

We near the office and I nearly bang into him when we round the corner and he jerks to a stop.

"Dad? What are you doing here?"

"Hey, son." The Sheriff slides his shades into his shirt pocket and approaches with slow steps. "I promised Mitchell Tepper that I'd come down to the school and see if there's been any news on Nicole."

"Oh." Adam nods. "Anything?"

"Nope." The sheriff smiles politely at Miss Walters as she glides past. "My guess is she's doing a runner. But if she hasn't shown up by tomorrow morning, I'm going to need to be a little more forceful with my search."

His eyes are cold and blue. They narrow slightly as they drill holes into Adam.

"Why aren't you in class, son?"

"I um, I have to pick up an assignment sheet from Mr. Simmons. Extra credit."

His Dad nods.

I don't know what it is, but his movements seem slow and intimidating.

"I think it's best you come straight home after school today... on the bus. No getting rides with that Finnigan kid."

"Dad, he's a good guy."

"He has a past. I don't want him distracting you from your studies."

"Dad- "

"Adam." His pointed look makes Adam swallow his next words.

"Yes, sir."

His father gives him a hard look.

"I know, Dad. Tonight... I mean, after school... straight away. I'll be there."

"Don't be late."

The sheriff pulls out his shades and slides them on. I have no idea what just happened, but I can sense Adam's fear. He runs a shaky hand through his hair and picks up the pace as he walks to Mr. Simmon's class.

I watch him stride away and the feeling I can't shake grows.

I need to talk to Dale.

Spinning on my heel, I head back to where I last saw him, realizing that I have no idea what his next class is or where I am supposed to find him.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

I impatiently wait by his locker, but he doesn't come by after his next class. I'm not sure what to do, so start randomly hunting the school for him. I walk from class to class, peering into windows and scanning faces. It's a futile task. By the end of second period, I still haven't found him. I head back to his locker and lean against it. Students buzz past me as they make their way to their next class.

I'm studying their faces when Dale walks through me.

"Ugh!"

Students nearby stop and look in Dale's direction. He gives them an awkward smile and they slump away with confused frowns and whispers of his weirdness. He waits until they're gone before sharply whispering, "I asked you not to do that to me."

"Hey, I was facing the other way, I didn't see you coming."

"Where have you been?"

He looks irritated, which for some reason makes me antsy.

"I just- "

"Don't keep ditching me. If you're not following me then say so."

"Well excuse me."

"I thought you were ignoring me again... not to mention the fact I looked like a complete idiot whispering to no one the entire way to class."

"Don't you look like that even when I am here?"

He fires a dark glare in my direction.

"You said you didn't care what people thought."

He shuts his locker a little too hard.

"Follow me, please."

I spin on my heel and walk outside with him.

"Shouldn't you be going to class?"

"Free period," he mumbles over his shoulder.

We head towards the isolated end of the field. I can tell he's making a beeline for the bleachers. It's a good idea. We'll be able to talk in private.

Once we're standing beneath the tiered seating he spins around to face me.

"Did you go back to your body?"

"No, I... I saw Adam and decided to follow him."

"Why?" Dale's eyes narrow.

"I don't know." I throw my hands in the air. "I just wanted to see why he wasn't in class."

"And?"

I sigh. "He was just picking up extra credit work from Mr. Simmons."

"I told you he was a good guy. Stop being so suspicious of everybody."

"I'm sorry, but something doesn't feel right."

"Stop thinking the worst of my friends."

"I'm not! This has nothing to do with your friendship. I just think his car story isn't solid."

"It's like a brick. You're just reaching for something that isn't there."

I step back with a huff and try to kick the dirt. This was getting us nowhere. I flick back my bangs and peer through the bleachers at the field.

"His Dad creeps me out a little."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. He's pretty strict. I don't think he likes me much."

"I can tell. He told Adam not to get a lift with you today. Said he's worried you'll distract him from his studies."

"Oh yeah?" Dale shakes his head. "What else did he say?"

"That you have a past."

Dale looks down and skims his shoe over the dirt.

"What does he mean?"

"Look it's nothing, okay. Just don't take off without telling me again and stop thinking my friends are bad."

"I'm..."

He starts walking away before I can get my words out. What is his problem?

I stomp after him and am about to yell at him to stop when someone else does it for me.

I grimace as Trent approaches with long, angry strides.

"What the hell have you been saying about me?"

Dale steps away from the juggernaut and puts his hands in his pockets.

"Why are you still looking for Nicole?"

"Because he's not a moron like you," I fire at my EX-boyfriend.

Trent steps forward, leaning down to get in Dale's face.

"You think I did something to her? You think I hurt her or something?"

He shoves Dale, causing him to stumble back.

"Tell him to get lost, Dale."

"I didn't touch her, man." Trent's aggression is pulsing out of him. "She got out of my car. I asked her to get back in, but she wouldn't. None of this is my fault."

"Bullshit, you little turd. If you'd just taken two seconds to listen and control yourself none of this would have happened," I yell.

"I didn't do anything wrong."

Dale gives him a stone cold glare that says otherwise.

Before I know what's happening, Trent bunches his fingers into a fist and hits Dale square in the face. Dale tumbles backwards.

"You asshole!" I push Trent away from Dale, but my hands go straight through him. He doesn't even flinch. Instead he bends over Dale's fallen form and points a finger at him.

"Leave it alone, Scarface. She's gone and no one gives a shit."

I drop to my knees beside Dale as Trent stalks away.

"Are you okay?" I try to move his hands so I can see his face.

"Don't touch me." He rolls away from me and takes his time sitting up.

Blood is streaming from his nose and running into his mouth.

"Why didn't you say anything? How could you let him do that to you?"

"It's not like I had much choice." Dale stands up and flicks the blood from his nose with his finger.

Gross.

"Besides you mouthing off every two seconds was hardly helpful."

"Well, I'm sorry, but you weren't exactly doing much to stand up for yourself."

"Maybe if I'd had a second to think, I could have!"

Rummaging in his bag, he pulls out his PE shirt and uses it wipe up the blood.

"It's not my fault you're a slow thinker."

Dale chucks the stained shirt back in his bag and stands up straight. His nose is throbbing red and he still has a smear of blood under his chin.

I point to it. "You've still got-"

"I don't have to be doing this, you know. If I walk away, you've got no one."

I step back from his abrupt statement. Why is he saying this to me? Why is he becoming like everybody else?

Tears sting my eyes as my voice rises.

"I'm a very popular person."

"Who no one gives a shit about! You just heard him say it."

Dale points to where Trent was standing.

"Do you honestly think if anyone else could hear you, they would take time to listen? I'm the only person at this school willing to do anything."

"That is SO not true!"

"Isn't it?"

I don't know what to say.

"You know why people don't like you? Because you act like a bitch. You say awful things and you treat people like crap. That's why no one's mourning you."

"Why are you saying this to me?" I swallow. "I said sorry about the Scarface thing."

"It's not about Scarface. It's about your attitude towards everything. It's about you suspecting one of the only friends I have at this school." He points to his nose. "It's about being punched in the face by your asshole boyfriend who thinks he can treat you like a sex slave and get away with it."

Dale's breathing like a bull ready to charge.

I cross my arms and can't help joining him. My breaths begin to spurt through my nostrils as I shake my head.

"Don't you dare stand there judging me. What the hell do you know? Have you ever watched someone die? Have you ever listened to their screams of terror? That noise is impossible to get out of your brain! So don't stand there telling me that all my choices have been wrong. All I've been doing is trying to survive this hell!"

"You don't think I understand tragedy?" He pulls back his hair, showing me the scar in all its glory. "I spent five hours trapped in a car listening to my friends die around me and just praying that I'd make it out alive."

My anger flees the scene in record time. My arms drop to my side as I swallow down the lump in my throat.

"I know how hard that sound is to ignore, but at least I haven't chosen to throw away my life on a bunch of bad decisions. I'm trying to help you, Nicky. But your screwed up life keeps getting in the way."

He lets out a long sigh.

"Fine." I lift my chin. "You're better than me. Congratulations."

"I didn't mean-"

"Don't talk to me again." I shake my head. "I don't want you to waste your time looking for me, I don't deserve it anyway."

"Nicole, don't be like that."

I turn and start walking away. I don't know what's just happened, but the thought of spending another second near Dale Finnigan is too painful.

"I still want to help you!" he calls after me.

I keep moving.

"Nicole."

The people beside me turn to look at Dale.

"Who the hell is he talking to?" one guy mutters.

"Beats me, the guy's weird."

I cover my ears and keep walking. Blending with human traffic, I squeeze through doors as they open and eventually make it out of the school. Wrapping my arms around myself, I turn down Maple Lane and start walking home.

I have nowhere else to go.

Dale's words run through my head.