Unexpectedly

Chapter Fifteen- Almost

Chapter Fifteen- Almost

                CAMDEN SUN: ANYONE’S POSSIBLE.

                There goes the headline of my column again. I guess I ended up using it anyway. It did, though, contradict the previous article. But so what, right? With this stuff currently going on, his life has just got be worse than mine.

                Which brought me back to the idea that Camden Sun is my “stalker.” He did seem kind of stalker-ish. And if it was him, chances are, he was just making fun of me. Or trying to make my life fall apart. It worked both ways, seeing as now I was officially known as Shea Collins, That Taylor Lautner-Crazed girl.

                I was getting back at Cam, at least.

                “Oh, my gosh. I am totally going to kick this Night Moon bitch!” was what welcomed me upon entering the school building. Really assuring.

                 I tried not to cringe.

                “I cannot believe she added my name in this article! Arrgh! My boyfriend is so going to kill me!” the same girl had said. Oops. I looked at her innocently. I recognized her as Andrea Something. I did mention her in the article.

                Would I get arrested if her boyfriend did kill her? Let’s hope not.

                “You!” She noticed me.

                I froze. Oh, my gosh, she was going to kick me! How did she find out it was me? How in the world did she find out that I was Night Moon? It would all start with one, and tomorrow, the whole school would know it, and then I would totally be dead, and I’d probably go crazy.

                My body went completely still as I looked back at her.

                “You’re Shea Collins, right?” she asked me, her face an angry red. She was holding the latest issue of our newspaper with her two hands, eyes getting teary. But I was really sure her kick would hurt like hell, considering those ginormous heels.

                “I swear, I can—” I was about to say explain, but she broke out into awful, strangled-sounding sobs.

                “I can’t believe this Night Moon had the nerve to mention our names in this freaking article!” she yelled and pulled me in a completely unexpected hug.

                Uhh, what?

                “I feel your pain,” she said, sounding completely miserable. “We should be, like, sisters! I swear, for both our sakes, I would definitely hate Night Moon for the rest of my entire life.”

                Uh-oh.

                “You don’t have a boyfriend, do you?” She stepped back. “You’re not crying.”

                Her tear-streaked face really made me cringe. I shook my head.

                She sniffed. “Good for you. I—” She sobbed again.

                I stood there awkwardly.

                “I’m okay,” she said. “You don’t have to comfort me.”

                I didn’t say that she obviously looked, well, not okay. And that I wasn’t even thinking of comforting her. But I guess that wasn’t really the wisest thing to say to a crying girl. Before I could say anything else, though, she ran off, sobbing, if possible, even harder.