His Mission

Lies, lies and more lies.

The rain descends aggressively from the somber clouds. The sky is covered in dark clouds, and the low rumble of thunder echoes through the air. My hair is weighed down with water and clinging to my forehead. My clothes are soaked through, and even my extra jacket isn't enough to save me. I continue running toward the school entrance while biting down on my bottom lip to suppress the cries of agony. I'm not a particular athletic person, especially when I'm covered in bruises. I burst through the doors before leaning against the wall to catch my breath.

"Would you like some help, Emily? You look like you need it." A familiar voice calls out to me. When I lift my head, rain droplets slide down my face. My gaze connects with one of my classmates. She's standing several feet away from me looking incredibly amused by my wet appearance. I hold up my finger to signal I need a minute. Trying to catch my breath is harder than it looks, especially when every inhale and exhale causes fire to ignite inside my chest.

"How did you avoid the rain?" I finally manage to ask Ivory. Her auburn hair is perfect, and she doesn't appear to have a single rain droplet on her. She gestures down at the umbrella in her hands, and I release a groan of jealousy. Her laughter fills the air, and she links her arm through mine before guiding me toward the bathroom.

"I always come prepared." Ivory tells me. We push through the bathroom door, and I reach for a wad of blue paper towels. The paper is itchy against my skin, but it's all I have to dry myself off. I pat my cheeks before staring at my appearance in horror.

"Oh no. Look at me! I look like a drowned rat." I wail in frustration. I pick up a strand of my sopping wet hair before releasing it. It slaps back down against my face, and Ivory laughs again at my expense. Her green eyes ignite with an idea, and she heads toward the bathroom exit — "Wait here, I'll be right back."

As soon as she leaves the bathroom, I edge closer to the mirror to examine my face. Thankfully, the majority of my makeup is intact, but the concealer under my eyes is beginning to rub away. My heart skips a beat with worry, and I reach for my bag to rifle around for a touch up. I begin panicking when I can't find anything. Desperation begins to consume me, but I have to push it aside when Ivory enters the bathroom. She's holding a pile of clean, and more importantly, dry clothes in her hands.

"This is all I could find, I figured it was better than nothing." Ivory tells me. I give her a smile of gratitude before taking the clothes from her.

"Thank you. You're a lifesaver."

The bell rings to signal the start of the period. Ivory waves goodbye to me before leaving the bathroom. I hold up the hoody before realizing the clothes belong to a boy. The hoodie is three times too big for me, and I catch a whiff of the scent lingering on it. Jake Melvin's face flashes through my mind, and I feel a jolt of heat ripple through me.

Of course the clothes belong to Jake Melvin.

How did Ivory end up with his clothes? Are they friends? Are they more than friends? The heat building in my stomach turns to acid, and I chew on the inside of my cheek with jealousy. Why do I care if another girl has possession of Jake Melvin's clothes? I've only spoken to him a few times, and accidentally fallen asleep on him once. That doesn't warrant enough for me to feel jealous.

"Pull yourself together," I mutter before changing into Jake's clothes. His basketball shorts hang comically around my waist, and I grimace at my appearance. At least I'm not soaking wet anymore. I throw my clothes over the radiators before tackling my hair. When I left the house this morning, it was curled in loose waves. It's now damp, tangled and smells like rain. I pull it up into a messy bun before noticing the bruise under my eye. It's becoming more and more evident. My hands begin to tremble when I realize I'm going to have to walk around without it concealed. I contemplate going home for the day, but I can't risk running into Trevor.