Subject Me To Life [Book One] ✔️ *EDITING*

Chapter Eight

*Kinda edited* Not proofread*

Chapter 8– The hangout; part 1:

        I sit on my bed cross-legged as I read over my English homework, only having trouble with a few of the bigger words. It's now Saturday evening and the week has flown by pretty quickly. Glenn has been letting me off work early as it has been quite idle at the garage and there is hardly any work to do, and I had avoided Lilah at school the best I could and tried to prevent any more weird encounters with Dakota happening— the first time it happened has yet to make sense to me.

        I take a sip of my Coke before I place it down on the bedside table just as my phone rings. I frown, picking it up and looking at the unfamiliar number as my heart drops. The first plan of action that comes to mind is declining the call, getting a new phone, and changing the number. However, for someone reason, I find myself doing the exact opposite.

        "Hello?" I answer cautiously, voice firm.

        "Kody, hi!" A familiar voice beams on the other end of the line, high-pitched, squeaky and annoying as fuck.

        "Lilah? How the fuck did you get my number?" I grit in irritation, sitting up straighter, my hands no longer shaking with adrenaline.

        "My dad," she replies simply, thought I can barely hear her shrill, little voice over the beat of the music playing in the background and nearby chatter.

        My hand grips my phone tighter as I speak. "Why the fuck does your dad have my phone number?"

        "He's the principal. It's in the system." I can almost picture her smug face as she shrugs.

        "Principal?" I raise an eyebrow at myself, the information new and quite surprising.

       Lilah giggles lightly and I glower at the more-than-girlish sound, "Didn't you know?"

        "Obviously fucking not." I snap at her.

        "Jheesh. Alright, calm down." She murmurs. "Short-fuse."

        "What did you just say?"

        "Nothing," she replies quickly. "So, there's actually a reason I'm calling you."

        "Obviously," I roll my eyes.

        "Well, the boys and I are at the Hangout and we wanted you to come down," she further explains, ignoring me completely.

        "No," I answer immediately, not thinking twice, or even once, about it. I don't know what the Hangout is, but I'm one-hundred percent certain I don't want to go there. "Definitely not, bye."

        "Wait, wait, wait," she cries out, "I know where you live!"

        My finger pause over the red button— my one-way-ticket to ending the pointless phone call, "You have my adress, too?" I grind my jaw and clench my fist, raising the phone back to my ear.