Pusher

nineteen.

"Hurry up," Ellie complained, "If I'm late to class one more time Montgomery is going to kill me."

I ignored her comment, still digging at the bottom of my backpack. I just threw my journal in here before lunch, but now it was nowhere to be seen. Maybe I accidentally left it under my desk in Physics?

Or maybe I was losing my mind with anxiety, coming up with any excuse to avoid Current Events. No, to avoid Maverick.

I took another glance in the small locker mirror. It was dingy and scratched, but didn't prevent me from seeing the ugly bruise that marred my neck when I tugged down my scarf. It would be a while until I was able to just use concealer to cover it up. Until then I'd be wearing a lot of scarfs and my hair down quite a bit.

The constant reminder of Maverick on my neck made me feel uneasy, and not just because of the vague threat he left me with the last time we spoke. When Miles came home with these, he called them love bites, but this was something entirely different.

This felt more like a threat in itself. This felt like ownership.

I readjusted the fabric and clicked the locker shut, hurrying after Ellie. She knew I was weary about Maverick just as I was, but she was oblivious to his last threat. I decided it was better if she didn't know. I had her pepper spray tucked inside my purse at all times. If anything serious happened, I would be ready.

We rushed into the classroom at the last second and I sunk into the seat next to Maverick, praying for attendance to be over quickly so I could relocate next to Ellie. It was Monday. If he was going to do anything, it would be now.

Maverick was lazily etching a doodle into the margin of his paper. His eyes followed the strokes of his pen as he spoke to me. "It's not too late." He looked up at me, his gaze flicking down to my scarf. The briefest of smiles flashed over his lips.

I ignored him, calling out here when Mr. Montgomery passed over my name, and then promptly moving next to Ellie. I would not be intimidated. Not by him.

We eased into our typical routine and I tried to push Maverick from my thoughts. It was difficult with Sticks and Ducky sending back glances at me every so often. They looked a little nervous but laughed it off as if it was a joke. Maverick was calm and collected all the way through.

"You look a little antsy babe. What's wrong?" Ellie asked, still scrawling out a paragraph about an article about the most recent developments in the oil crisis. As if we needed anything to make this economy worse.

My little side business was helping my mom and I stay afloat and the unemployment checks from the government certainly helped as well, but if things took another dip, I wasn't sure we would make it through. My mom's hair had already begun to turn gray from all the stress, and at this rate, I was sure I wouldn't be far behind.

"Nothing," I muttered in return, but my eyes betrayed me and flicked to Maverick. He was already watching me and sent a wink back. I dropped my gaze. Ellie released a frustrated sigh, having seen the entire exchange. Not much went over her head.

"I wish there was something we could do about him," she said.

"There isn't. Not unless I want to get caught for selling weed. I'm just going to have to deal with him myself," I told her, then added, "I can handle Maverick."

She sent me an uneasy glance. I wasn't sure I believed me either.

The PA speaker crackled and the class hushed as our principal's voice fell over the room. "This a code red drill. Teachers, please direct your students through the proper lockdown procedures."

Ellie groaned. Those procedures happened to be turning off the lights, squishing over thirty kids into the corner so the assailants "couldn't see us" through the window, and breathing in everyone's BO until the all clear was announced over the PA.

Lockdown drills were always the worst.

We pushed a few desks out of the way and sunk down against the wall. The rest of the class filed next to us while Mr. Montgomery hushed everyone into near silence. Maverick weaseled his way through the mass of kids, pushing Sam Keller into a desk, and then took a seat next to me. A little light streamed through the windows on the far wall, enough for me to catch the smirk he wore so openly.

My stomach did a flip. I was pressed shoulder to shoulder between him and Ellie. Ducky and Sol were not too far off, still staring at me. I tried to avoid their eyes.

Maverick's fingers toyed at the fabric of my scarf and his head craned down so that I could feel his hot breath on my neck. "Don't I get to see my hard work?" he whispered, that taunting smile back on his lips. I slapped his hand away.

"Don't touch me."

"Angelica," Mr. Montgomery scolded, "no talking."

I waited in this silent nightmare for ages, wondering what was taking them so long. Lockdown drills never lasted longer than ten minutes and here we were inching on twenty. It wasn't until I heard a very distinct bark from down the hall that I understood.

They brought the dogs in. Drug sweep.

A shot of fear stuck through my heart, but I tried to swallow it down. They weren't legally allowed to search the church parking lot where my car was sitting. All the weed I had was tucked inside there. I didn't bother bringing in any into school today. It just didn't seem worth it with Maverick's threat looming over me.

They wouldn't find anything on me, but what about everyone I sold to? Who was dumb enough to store it in their locker? Who would get caught?

More importantly, which one of them would turn me in?

Drug busts were never about those who had weed, not really. They wanted to find out where these kids were getting it from. And currently, that came down to me and Maverick. I doubted anyone would flip him, not when he had intimidation in his corner. But me? I was the easiest sell out there was.

Thirty-four minutes. Thirty-four minutes of sitting shoulder to shoulder with Maverick and listening to the light buzz of rock music that seeped out of his earbuds as we sat there. 

We filed back into our seats with the all clear announcement crackled through the speakers, but I was no less worried. They would be pulling kids out of class for the rest of the day to dole out punishments and spill their findings. It was only a matter of time before I was called down. I was sure of it.

"Aren't you even a little worried?" I asked Maverick as he slipped back into his seat. The question had been burning at me this whole time. He was so collected and unphased, of course, when wasn't he? Worry seemed to be a foreign concept to Maverick.

"No," he said simply, flicking his eyes up to mine. He didn't even try to hide his smug smile. "Andrew Mets lets me know when all the drug sweeps are going to be."

Of course he had the police chief's son in his pocket. That kid was willing to spill anything for the right price. Under the very slim chances, I got out of this one unscathed, I was going to have to talk to Mets and see if I could make my own deal with him.

"You should be more concerned about yourself, Angel," Maverick said. I was already absorbed in my assignment, but it seemed he wasn't done taunting me yet. As if I didn't already have to hear enough vague threats from him.

"What are you talking about?" Sure, I was already worried, but he made it sound like he knew something I didn't, and that scared the hell out of me. It showed in my voice.

"I could imagine things are going to get pretty complicated when the cops find all the weed in your locker."

"I don't keep any in my locker."

"Don't you?" he asked in mock confusion. There was a pause as his dark eyes bore into mine. "You know, Angel, I never really took you for a poet. You never stop surprising me. That journal of yours is a pretty good read."