Citrus

twenty-nine

Bisola

I stare out the window, the calm breeze whipping the fallen strands of my hair in different directions.

For now, the drive was eerily silent, which—of course, bothered me, but I didn't know what to say either so I just kept my mouth shut. John's attention was faced squarely on the road, but something told me he was quite nervous, perplexed even as his hand tightened on the steering wheel.

Issac had told us to see him at a park.

The reason for this was unknown. Only God knew what was running through that boys mind. Before we left John had filled me up on what was happening currently. The news had spread like wildfire, of course, and the members of the press have been swarming their house nonstop. He also told me his dad was holding a press conference tomorrow and he had to be there to clear all the allegations about the situation. He told me all this, with a grim look on his face.

I felt sorry for him, and it pained me that he was going through all this on his own.

Amanda's death wasn't in fault. He shouldn't be suffering for something he didn't do.

The car skidded to an abrupt halt.

I turned my head to look at John, who stared back at me, giving me a grim nod and dropping down from the car. I followed after him.

The park was empty, which wasn't weird since it was still quite early. Sprawled with nothing but rolling green fields and an amazing scenery. I admired it for a bit, but now was not the time for that.

I looked ahead, and there stood Issac, his hands in his pockets.

My blood boiled just by seeing him.

I noticed John tense as he noticed him too, but he shook it off and walked closer.

Isaac head was crouched down as he was stomping on dried leaves on the grass. Hearing our footsteps, he rose his head up to acknowledge our presence and then gave a toothed smile.

"Hello!" He greeted, his voice rather cheerful. I wanted nothing but to spit at his face. "Glad you could make it,"

"What do you want?" John replied, his tone hard.

Issac gives a guttural laugh. "Did you like my gift?"

Bastard.

John says nothing, only giving him a blank stare.

I part my lips to speak. "How could you, Isaac, how?"

His gaze snaps to my direction and never leaves. "What was that?"

"John and I did absolutely nothing to deserve this?" I say, my voice mixed with anger and grief and so many different things, "what did we ever do to you?"

"Nothing," Issac's says, then let's out a breath, "apart from the fact that he killed my sister."

"He did not—"

"That enough, Bisola," John cuts me off, his voice oddly calm and calculated. I give him a knowing, questionable stare but he just nods his head at me. I knew his message, even though he didn't say it.

I'll be fine.

I honestly hope he would.

John tuned to meet Issac, putting his hand into his pockets. "Look, Issac, I'm sorry for whatever has happened and all that I've done to you. You lost your sister, I understand that," Issac was about to say something but John held up his finger, silencing him, "but, I beg of you, do not get my family or Bisola into this, they did nothing wrong. Chanel all your hate  at me, but don't get my friends or my family involved."