Reapers - Master of Souls (Reapers Chronicles Book III)

World Warp IV (A Reapers Year-End Special)

∞XIII∞

It was Physics when Vincent slipped a sheet he tore from his notebook to my desk. Mr. Simpson always had his eye on him. It felt like he was actually waiting for Vincent to trip the wire so he could go all out on him with the punishment. But today, Vincent was intentionally being careless. I was sure the teacher saw what he did, so I snatched the piece of paper and hid it in my pocket.

The unavoidable detention was passed, not without a few demeaning comments from Mr. Simpson. Apparently, the whole school made the rumors about Vincent its business. When the class ended, the girls sitting next to me began whispering among themselves.

"I heard he bribed Coach Amyr to train him alone."

"Yeah. I bet he thinks he's better than all of his teammates. And he even pretends to be friends with them. Just shows how he's so full of himself."

"You know that accident Kyoshiro had last month? I bet Vincent had everything to do with that. He made it look like it was an accident but surely, he did that on purpose."

"Well, it worked. Kyoshiro can't play now, can he? And I thought he was going to the team captain."

"My sister's in the same grade as his younger brother and guess what he told her... He said he stumbled on Vincent while he was doing drugs."

If they intended to keep it down, they weren't keeping it down enough. I was sure Vincent could hear everything, but he just pretended not to. He just walked out of the room with an unreadable expression.

During lunch, I saw some boys actually stuffing trash in Vincent's locker as I walked by. It was vandalized pretty badly and turned into some kind of freedom wall where people wrote very harsh comments, the kind that could make your average guy cry.

It was just sad. From a varsity hero, Vincent was turned overnight into an outcast.

It had been almost half an hour of waiting. I watched students file out of the school building and the cars go one after the after. That was when I drew his note from my pocket and read it again.

After school. Parking lot.

With a sigh, I slid my hands into my jacket pockets and shifted on the balls of my feet. Vincent was supposed to meet me. He was late.

Still, I waited.

Ten minutes later, he came. He had a black eye, a bruised cheek and a bleeding lower lip. His shirt had dirt and dried blood all over it. As he approached me, I noticed he was limping.

"Wait here," he said, wincing when he strained his broken lip. "I'll get the Jeep."

I ran to him, automatically taking his arm and slinging it over my shoulder. "I'll go with you."

He didn't refuse, so I helped him toward the red Rubicon at the front of the parking lot where jocks and rich kids normally park to show off their expensive rides.

I almost stopped when I saw the state of his Rubicon. Like his locker, it too, didn't escape the wrath of bullies. It was egged and TP-ed. There were also writings on the windshield.

He tried to look unaffected but averted his gaze nonetheless.

"Ugh! Don't these people have better things to do?!" I hissed, removing Vincent's arm from my shoulder. "Wait here, okay?"

Angrily, I snatched some of the tissue paper that wasn't still soaked in broken eggs and went to the driver's side. I climbed on the Jeep's side step and wiped the windshield as far as I could reach. I also wiped the door handle before beckoning Vincent.