“Hey, you wanna walk to lunch?”
I turned around to see Mitchell. “Yeah.”
Maybe it was good some things didn’t change.
***
Foster was at my table when I walked to it, and he was eyeing Mitchell.
“Would you quit looking at him like that?” I sighed.
“Like what?”
“Like he killed someone. Mitchell’s a nice guy. You don’t have to keep acting like a paranoid weirdo whenever you see him.” I sighed. “I really wonder what you’re like when you’re alone if you’re this creepy around other people. It worries me.”
He smirked. “You wonder about me?”
“Of course that’s all you got out of that statement.”
Foster grinned further. “Was there anything else in the statement?”
Moron. I started nibbling on the pizza I’d bought without much interest and I could feel Foster looking at me. “What do you want now?” I groaned in defeat, giving in to his gaze.
“Nothing. I enjoy watching you.”
Kind of sweet?
“Especially when you don’t know I’m watching.”
Nope. Creepy. Just creepy.
I ignored his statement and continued eating my pizza. When I looked up a little, I realized Foster had his sleeves pulled down over his hands. “What’s wrong with your hands?”
“They hurt.”
“From what?”
“Beating the shit out of that scumbag that drugged you.” Foster’s tone darkened as he reminded me of the weekend. “I should have hurt him worse.” He looked up at me, his tone lifting suddenly. “They don’t hurt too bad, though.”
I leaned over and pushed his sleeve up.
His knuckles were really beat up. There were a few scars littered around his hands, but the relatively fresh scabs and bruises made them look… awful. I couldn’t help the gasp that escaped my lips, and Foster shrugged, pulling his sleeve back down. “Like I said, it doesn’t hurt too bad.” He smiled a little at me.
This boy was so weird. He went from creepy to normal, to creepy, to kind, to creepy again. What the hell?
I pulled his hand toward me so I could inspect it further and moved his fingers gently to uncurl them, looking them over. The cuts weren’t too deep; in fact, it just looked like he scraped his knuckles on sandpaper or something kind of roughly, and the bruises were beginning to fade a little bit. “I guess you’re okay,” I decided eventually. “Don’t just walk around beating things up though. Violence is only the answer sometimes, and this was not one of those times.”
When I looked up, his gaze was intense, and I was immediately uncomfortable with touching him. He drew his hand back slowly, still looking at me, and covered it with his sleeve. “I’ll be sure to be more careful next time, then.”
Mitchell cleared his throat. “I’m here too.”
I looked at him and smiled. “Like I’d forget you.” I leaned over and put my head on his shoulder for a moment to reassure my friend then went back to eating my pizza. “Brady’s being weird,” I blurted randomly to Mitchell, almost forgetting Foster was there.
“How so?”
“I don’t know. He brought up some random thing from fifth grade. Er… I guess I did, kinda. But it was because of something he said first.”
Mitchell stopped moving. “Some random thing?”
“When I met you. I told him that because I met you I was happy that things happened the way they did, but he was still acting weird about it.” I shrugged.
“That’s no random thing,” he growled.
“I said I’m happy it happened that way,” I replied, defending myself.
“I’m glad it happened like that too.”
“I’m still shitty at chess.”
“That’s because you still call knights ‘the horse ones’ and pawns ‘the short ones’. If you just try, you’ll get it.” He shook his head, chuckling. “Six years and you still don’t know a bishop from a pawn.” I was happy he’d let go of his irritated tone. Mitchell wasn’t usually intimidating, but that voice could kill if he wanted it to.
“Do too. One’s a castle and the other one’s short.”
“The things you say almost make me cringe.”
I grinned at him and looked at Foster. “Do you play chess at all?”
“Yes.”
“Really?”
Foster snorted. “Try not to sound so surprised, would you? I do have hobbies.”
“Are you any good?”
“Very. I’d like to play against Mitchell sometime.”
Mitchell’s eyes flashed up to Foster, catching my attention. For the first time in six years, I saw hostility in his eyes. “I’d like that as well, Foster. It’s a battle of wits, after all.”
I looked between the two boys. When Mitchell caught me looking at him, the hostility was replaced by friendliness. “Boys are crazy,” I muttered, sighing quietly to myself.
“Maybe that’s ’cause you drive them crazy,” Foster snorted.
I glared at him.
“Hey, what class do you have after this, Mitchell?” I asked suddenly, hoping we could walk together.
“Actually, we both have Honors Cyber Security Three,” Foster piped up.
Mitchell’s arms tensed, the hostility returning to his face. “Yes. We do. Though I do have to say, your ability to code is weaker than my own. You should work on it.”
“I intend to,” replied Foster.
All three of us fell into an uncomfortable silence, and I prayed that Sierra would show up soon to relieve me of babysitting duty.
Stupid boys.
Chapter 6
Foster
I looked down at my phone screen and smiled. I’d only recently hacked Anika’s phone cameras, and I really didn’t regret it. Right now, she was watching a video and her mouth would twitch every so often in amusement. It was rather fascinating to watch.
I loved watching people who didn’t know they were being watched. When someone is alone, that’s when their actions are purest; free of the pressure of acting how they thought they should. There is nothing in this world more beautiful than purity.
“Foster, would you mind giving me a summary of the passage?”
Sighing softly as I was pulled away from enjoying my video, I started explaining. “Basically, Hermia just found out Lysander’s been cursed to love Helena, and Demetrius is cursed to love her too. They’re fighting, Helena thinks it’s a joke and that they’re both in on the joke.” I looked up at the teacher and raised an eyebrow. “Is that close?”
“Alright. Just try to look like you’re paying more attention.”
“Sure.” I snorted. I read Shakespeare classics in my free time, so for us to be reviewing A Midsummer Night’s Dream was relatively pointless and insanely dull. Pressing a few buttons, I switched my camera view to check in on Mitchell.
He had his phone in his pocket or somewhere else dark.
There was something seriously off about this guy. He was… weird, and creepy to say the least. Not creepy enough to scare me, and somehow not creepy enough to scare Anika, but creepy enough to get my attention. I narrowed my eyes at the screen. In two days, I hadn’t seen him on his phone once. There was something weird about that.
Finally, the bell rang and I stood up to go to lunch. It was the only period of the day I saw Anika other than Astronomy and I cherished spending time with her, even if she had that moronic jock hanging around her half the time. She deserved a lot better than him; just a week ago I’d caught him in the hall kissing some random girl. I’d thought when Anika saw it, she would freak out and dump him, but I’d left before I had the chance to see how she reacted. As long as she was happy, though, I wasn’t going to interfere.
For now.
When I approached, Anika’s face was on the lunch table and she looked like she was sleeping until she lifted her head and banged it on the table lightly. Even though I knew
it wasn’t hurting her, it bothered me that she did that when she was annoyed. I sat down across from her and waited for her to acknowledge my presence.
“What are you doing, Foster?” She sounded tired.
“What does it look like?”
“Like you’re sitting.”
“Strange; that’s what I’m doing.” I snorted and let my eyes travel over her. She was wearing a large hoodie, but it wasn’t one that I’d seen in her closet. Where had she gotten it? It definitely didn’t look new.
“Give me my hoodie, Anika,” Brady sighed as he approached behind her.
Jerk. If she’d taken one of my hoodies, I’d have let her keep it as long as she wanted.
But when she pulled off the hoodie, I definitely wasn’t complaining. Her tank top was very… generous. I couldn’t help but stare at her as she removed the item of clothing, and I was pretty sure I wasn’t the only one watching. Brady’s mouth damn near fell open. What? Had he not realized how beautiful she is? He was seriously making my blood pressure rise. Girls weren’t beauties who only deserved to be appreciated when there was less clothing on their bodies. A feeling of being watched pricked me and I casually slid my gaze from Anika to the cafeteria door.
Mitchell.
He was watching the table and I saw a flash of something in his hand.
Immediately, I reached and pulled out my phone. The camera was still black. He must have blocked me when he found a virus on his phone; that’s why I wasn’t able to see or hear anything on his end. I stood up angrily and stalked toward Mitchell. He looked mildly surprised by me approaching and I shoved him roughly against the door. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I asked as calmly as I could manage, only being pushed further into my annoyance when he smiled faintly at me. “I’m pretty sure Anika wouldn’t appreciate it if she knew you were taking pictures of her without her knowing.”
“For Christ’s sake, Foster!” Anika snapped.
I hadn’t realized she was watching me. Mitchell’s smile suddenly fell away and was replaced with a look of fear as he looked up at me. “He was taking pictures of you.”
“Mitchell and I have tons of pictures of each other! And he’s on the yearbook committee!”
If he was taking yearbook photos, wouldn’t he be using an actual camera rather than a phone? Either way, the hate in Anika’s voice was acidic enough to almost make me flinch. Almost. I looked at her, then back into the artificially fearful eyes of Mitchell, and Anika’s hands went to my arm, trying to pull it off Mitchell.
Her hands on my arm made my entire body tingle.
I looked down at the small girl trying to pry me off of him and I released him reluctantly. If she hadn’t asked me to let go, I wouldn’t have. But because it was her…
“You seriously need to stay the hell away from us!” Anika growled as she pulled Mitchell out of my reach. The smile returned to his lips.
Anger rose in my throat. I wanted to yell at her and tell her that there was something seriously wrong with her little buddy; that I knew there was something wrong with her relationship with Brady. I wanted to tell her that she needed to trust me because I knew a lot of things she didn’t and that if she didn’t let me protect her, bad things could happen to her. Just take the party for example; she hadn’t gone with me, and she’d gotten drugged because of it. I suspected there was something else going on with that, though now wasn’t the time to bring it up. “Anika,” I said slowly through my teeth, barely managing to contain my anger, “you don’t understand.”
“No, Foster! You don’t understand!”
I stared at her blankly.
“Mitchell is my friend! You’re not! So leave us both alone.” Her voice shook angrily and the look in her eyes was painful to see.
Brady walked up behind her, and he was clearly sizing me up. “Is there a problem, babe?”
Babe. The way the word rolled off his tongue made me see red. I couldn’t hurt him, though. If Anika wanted him, I couldn’t hurt him. The second he hurt her, on the other hand, he was done. If she found out about him kissing some random girl, it would destroy her. So, yet again, I suppressed the words threatening to tear their way from my throat. I looked at Anika again. “I’ll leave for now. But I’m not going to leave you alone forever, Anika.”
Her jaw clenched and I turned around, walking away.
I wouldn’t lie to her, and I wouldn’t disappear from her life again. I couldn’t. So even though the last thing in the world I wanted to do right now was walk away from her and leave her in the way of danger, I had to do it.
As I walked down the hall, I contemplated my options. I could beat Mitchell into submission, but he would tell Anika. Or she’d figure it out herself; she was smart despite how socially ignorant she appeared to be sometimes.
I could tell her about Brady, but that would cause her pain.
My hands were tied and it made me furious. There was something off about all of this.
And I was going to figure out what it was.
Chapter 7
Anika
I glared at my food furiously. What was Foster’s issue? He’d almost hurt Mitchell again. His anger problems were starting to become my anger problems.
“Hey, I’m okay,” Mitchell said gently from across the table.
I looked up at him; I hadn’t realized my eyes were tearing up. Why the hell was I crying? It wasn’t like he was actually hurt, and Foster hadn’t threatened me. So why was I so upset that Foster had gone and acted like a raging bull again? I closed my eyes and laid my head on the table. Brady’s hand touched my back lightly, rubbing in small circles. The only reason I didn’t cut his face off for touching me when I was angry was that it felt kind of nice; the warmth of his hand was comforting. I lay like that for a long time, just soaking up the silence and enjoying the relaxation which contrasted so heavily with the chaos that my life was becoming. “I’m seriously done with this entire school,” I muttered, more to myself than anyone else. “The only sane guy here anymore is Mitchell.”
Brady’s hand stopped momentarily but rubbed my back again lightly a second later.
“Sorry,” I muttered, realizing I’d probably offended Brady. “I’m just annoyed. The whole ‘pretending to date you’ thing is stressful, and now I have to watch Mitchell all the time to make sure that he’s not being murdered by my new stalker. It’s not his fault this is happening, but he’s still being terrorized because of it.”
Mitchell kicked me lightly under the table and I looked up at him.
He smiled at me encouragingly. “I said I’m okay.”
“I’m not,” I growled. “He’s on my last nerve.”
“Then just cut him off,” said Brady. “Don’t talk to him if you aren’t seriously in need of something you can’t get from anyone else.” His voice was weirdly hostile. “I’m sick of him too. He seriously needs to back off. If you need anyone to come make sure he’s not stalking your house, I’d be happy to oblige. I have nothing better to do.”
“That’d just alert my parents. They’re watching the cameras and stuff on the house since they’re in Washington right now. I think I’d rather have Mitchell at my house.”
“Why?”
“He’s been my best friend for six years. I can’t tell you how many times he’s spent the night with me. My parents love him.” Mitchell smiled at me and I gave him the most convincing smile I could manage in return. Brady had a faraway look in his eye and I was pretty sure he wasn’t looking at me anymore, rather through me at something else.
When I looked, there was nothing behind me. “What in the world are you looking at?”
“Nothing,” he muttered.
I smiled at him the best I could.
My phone buzzed and I groaned inwardly. Was Foster seriously trying to talk to me? I ignored it and sat up, taking a deep breath. He needed to leave me alone. He needed to think I was seriously with Brady, and he needed to realize that I would never be i
nterested in him. I couldn’t believe what I was about to ask, especially since I had rejected the idea of him being at my house literally less than two minutes ago. But the buzz of my phone just reminded me that I needed to stick to Brady for now. “Brady, can we go on a date tonight?”
He looked at me, startled. “What?”
“A date. That thing couples do.”
“Why? You seriously want to?”
Not really. “Yes.” I just wanted to get my point across.
Brady grinned at me, a reaction I hadn’t really expected. “Sure, that sounds great. What do you want to do?”
“I don’t care. Anything that’ll keep me busy for a few hours.”
Mitchell cleared his throat. “Take into account who you’re talking to, then reevaluate the statement you just made.”
I realized what Mitchell was hinting at and heat filled my face as I glared at my best friend. “I’m going to kill you someday.” Still, though… “How about we just watch a movie or something then just go somewhere else to hang out?” My phone buzzed again and I sighed sharply, finally looking at it. Surprisingly, the texts were from Sierra.
hey, foster just passed me looking like he was gonna kill someone.
anikaaaa replyyyyyy
I sighed. I hated it when she spammed me.
Instead of replying, I smiled at Brady. “You can come over whenever. Text me first, though.”
Brady leaned in and kissed my cheek lightly as I stood up to leave. “You bet.”
This was going to be interesting.
***
“Leave, Foster.”
He raised an eyebrow from where he was sitting in my car. “No.”
“What do I have to do, start spraying all of my stuff in pesticides and hope those are strong enough?”
“Pesticides are for pests.”
“You are a pest.”
He snorted.
“I’m going to invest in Anti-Foster someday. And it’s just going to be really, highly concentrated mace. Like, bear mace.”
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