Helpless (Book 1)

Chapter Thirteen

AS SOON AS the bell rings, I spring up from the bench, grabbing my tray with me and dumping my unfinished lunch into the trash next to the entranceway. Laurens, Eliza, Angelica, Peggy, Alan, and Nathan follow suit. It kind of reminded me of "Follow the leader." We make a left and I heave an annoyed sigh through my nose as we stand in front of the hallway shoulder-to-shoulder, as we look beyond the claustrophobic hallways. After a few minutes, we start walking. 

 "Well, um...it was nice meeting you, Alexander," Alan says with a kind smile on his face. Charming but kind. I turn and notice that Laurens has finally let go of Alan's ear. Poor Alan. He's still massaging his poor little earlobe. Nathan walks around me to meet up with his friend. Alan slings his arm over Nathan's shoulder. "But uh...we've got to get to class." 

 "Yeah," I say with a nod. "Understandable. It was a pleasure to meet you..." Just for fun, I add: "Prince Charming~" 

 Alan's diamond blue eyes widen at the sudden nickname. He presses his lips together in a straight line and his pale cheeks reddens a little. I couldn't help but chuckle with the others. Nathan just rolls his eyes, so does Laurens. 

 "Come on, you big doofus," Nathan grumbles, grabbing his friend's elbow and tugging him away from the group. "We got class. So does Alex." 

 "You hear that, Hale?" Alan laughs, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder and taking one last look at me, memorizing my face, my every detail, before Nathan continues to drag him along. "He called me Prince Charming!" 

 "You're such a child, Warren," Nathan chuckles, shaking his head as they disappear around the corner. 

 Once they were gone, the five of us continue to meander through the halls. I grip my shoulder strap tighter as I puff out my chest and a triumphant grin appears on my face. I've never felt this confident in my life. 

 "Do you always flirt with everyone you see, Hamilton?" Peggy asks with a sly, teasing grin on her face as she jogs up to my side and nudges me in the elbow, winking as she does so.

 I shrug. "I have my ways." 

 "So," Eliza begins. "We'll see after you class, right?" 

 "Oh, yeah," I say. "Definitely." 

 "Well," Angelica says, placing a hand on her sister's shoulder. "We'll see you two later." She adds a wink before grabbing her sisters' arms and forcing them to follow her down the hall and make a right toward whatever class they have next. 

 Now, it's just Laurens and I in the hallway. Well, besides the clatter of students surrounding us that is. Laurens grins a little slyly as he grips his bookbag strap tighter, squaring his shoulders into a comfortable position before turning to me. Even though he tries to appear relax, he still looks tense. His jaw is set and his eyes are quavering, flickering around me, looking anywhere but in my direction. He stands unusually straight, like he's already in the military and his commander stands before him and he won't relax until his commander says calmly, "At ease, Laurens." 

 "You alright?" I ask, resting a hand gently on his forearm and locking my violet eyes with his rich, sky-blue ones. "You look tense." 

 "I'm fine," Laurens assures me with a flash of an unconvincing reassuring smile. All teeth and lips. He looks me dead in the eye and he can tell I know he's lying. I don't need to say, "You're lying." He frowns and heaves a light sigh through his nose as we begin walking down the hall toward our lockers. He keeps his head down, staring at his shoes as we walk, our strides matching the other, our shoulders almost touching. "It's just...my father..."

 "What about him?" I ask, turning to glance at Laurens's profile. 

 Laurens fidgets nervously. It appears he's afraid to ask whatever it is he wants to ask. He glances at me for a breath before turning back toward what's ahead of him. Laurens puckers his lips as though he's tasted something sour and frowns deeper, causing creases to form at the edges of his lips. He licks his lips and then lets his teeth sink into his bottom lip. He swallows thickly, setting his sharp, angular jaw. He tightens his grip on his bookbag strap that's over his shoulder, so tight his knuckles turn white.