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Allie doesn't believe the car crash that caused her amnesia was an accident. She knows the truth...
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THE NEXT MORNING, I decide to take Zoe's advice and rid my room of the marijuana. At the moment, there are many things in my life that I can't control, but this is one of the few things I can.
I remember her telling me that I could give it to James, deeming that to be the safest option, since he's a friend, and throwing it out would only leave it in a place where people could find it. I ask him beforehand, of course, and he agrees to take it.
My legs tremble all the way to school, and I try not to flinch every time someone looks in my direction, fearful that somehow they can see through the contents of my backpack. I tell myself to relax, to play it cool, knowing that if I look like a basket case, it'll make it obvious that I'm hiding something.
But my feeling of unease only increases when I reach the heavy doors of the front entrance, the flurry of students and prying eyes doing little to quell the panic rising in my chest. I will admit, bringing a bag of weed into a high school is a pretty dumb idea, but it seemed to make sense at the time. I'm deeply regretting that decision now.
I shove my backpack inside my locker, though it barely fits around my other books, and heave a sigh of relief, blowing away a few strands of my hair. I grab my English notebook and my copy of Hamlet, then slam the door shut.
Moments later, Dylan, Zoe, and James materialize beside me, and the sight of the three of them together never fails to make me think of some elite celebrity clique, looking out of place in the dull halls of Pender Falls. My face must reflect my inner distress, because they all look quite amused.
"Morning, sunshine," Dylan says sarcastically, raising an eyebrow.
I give him a withering look, and he grins.
Zoe folds her arms, blue eyes silently assessing me as they always do, but since our relationship has become a little rocky these past few days, she seems to be measuring the weight of her words a little more, which I appreciate. "What's up with you?"
Sighing, I reach up, tucking my hair behind both of my ears. "Sorry, I'm just a little jumpy because I have... a delivery." They all blink simultaneously. "In my locker."
My hinting receives no response as they all stare at me blankly, and I press my lips together in frustration.
"You know," I urge, raising my eyebrows, "from our friend, Mary Jane."
"Oh, right," James says, nodding. "The weed."
Leaning back against my locker, I resist the urge to roll my eyes. "I guess there was no point in me being discreet."
His mouth breaks into a face-splitting grin as he shrugs his large shoulders carelessly. "Sorry," he says, though he doesn't seem apologetic in the slightest. "So you have it then?"
"Yeah," I say quietly, sighing and folding my arms, glancing around the hallway to see if anyone seems like they're paying attention to our conversation. "In my backpack. When do you want it?"
