Don't Sleep With the Drummer

♤ 8. Kayla ♤

Kayla didn't know what to say. He was speaking so quickly she almost missed what he was saying. She asked for him to repeat himself, and he did, but more awkward this time and pausing in all the wrong places, rubbing the back of his neck as if it itched.

"Do you...wanna do something?" He asked again, "I was thinking...we could do...something."

"That doesn't sound sketchy at all."

He snorted a laugh. 

"You really are leaving me with no option but to call the authorities." Kayla cracked a smile.

He didn't seem that intimidating. Looks could be deceiving though. 

"You're were at the urgent care center the other day," he noticed aloud, "It was fourth of July, wasn't it?"

"It was." Her voice became weak, as though it was painful to raise her speech. "I go to Grand Arts because of you guys - well, because of the cops, but you guys made me consider it for real."

"That's crazy! You really ended up signing up for the school." He clapped his hands together under his chin. "You have to hang out with me sometime. We might even share some classes."

Why was he being so friendly? He wasn't rude when she first met him or anything. But he seemed different in this moment, appearing antsy and having his attention clearly split. He kept starting at a space beyond Kayla's shoulder, off into the parking lot and in the distance.

She wondered if Arrow was near by, and instantly her blood went cold.

"We should hang out," she said at last, "But not tonight. I have somewhere I need to be. I can't be out late or my dad will flip out."

"When then?"

"How about after school?"

She nodded. 

It was set. Next Monday, she would hang out with Kasin. 

--- 

Ugh, this school is filled with so many immature imbeciles, Kayla had grumbled the next day up the school steps. They had giggled like a pack of middle schoolers when she had said the "S" word yesterday in English. What was so special about speaking about it? It wasn't a secret word nor did she see it as a bad word. P.S. It was slut she said. 

Kayla those thoughts out of her head and made her way to the Main office. The bell for homeroom hadn't rung yet. Kayla had a few minutes to change the stage class that she dreaded.

Pushing through the glass door that lead into the main office, she hit a dead stop. A short line was already formed in front of the councilor's office. Each student had a yellow slip in hand; others green ones with a similar black signature on the left corner of the page.

A short brunet, with the words DRILL TEAM plastered on the front of her shirt, let out a sigh, giving a brief glance down to her phone. With a bored look across her face she turned to face her friend, "I can't believe I'm missing fucking Pre-Cal with Mr. Shipley for this shit-"

"Uh," the receptionist raised a bushy eyebrow. "Miss. Vail, I hope that wasn't you I just heard using that kind of language."

"'Course not." The girls voice fell to a whisper, "Seriously, this has gotta be a joke."

"It's the new policy," her friend hushed back. "What does your note say?"

"'Student was given a D or lower last term; please speak with councilor ASAP in ways to fix the situation.'" She rolled her eyes, "I've got Pre Cal to get to after this, if anything, she's causing a D if I don't get out of here soon."