26. the bully and the warehouse

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            The third ring comes on as I speed walk out of school

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The third ring comes on as I speed walk out of school. The sound of someone answering the call on the other line makes my eyes perk up.

"Lucas?" I ask. I haven't seen Lucas all day since this morning when he told me he'll 'deal with it'. What does he mean by that? I'm really worried.

"I'm sorry, Hazel. I got involved with some bad people and now I can't get out." Lucas is coughing badly on the other end of the phone.

"Lucas, what's wrong? Are you hurt?" I frantically pace back and forth, waiting for him to answer as other students pass by.

It's silent for a few seconds before he answer, "I got myself into this so I'll get myself out." It was immediately followed by a click then silence.

He hung up.

I clench my jaw and frantically search around for Mom. She's supposed to pick me up. I have to go find Lucas right now. What if something bad happened to him?

"What's wrong?" Corbin approach me with a worried look.

I stop pacing around and turn to him, "I think Lucas is in trouble."

Corbin let out a frustrating sigh, "You're going to find him, aren't you? I'll take you." His response earned a thankful smile from me.

He walk towards the parking lot and I quickly follow after him. We get into his car and he drives out of the school's parking lot.

"Where to?" He ask.

I shrug. I don't even know where Lucas is. "The bar, maybe?" Might as well start there.

We drove for about thirty minutes before reaching the bar. I hate this place. I enter the bar and am once again engulf into the sad quiet environment.

I immediately make eye contact with the bartender. He glance at me for a second before resuming what he was doing, wiping the counter. I walk to him, hoping he'll give me some answers since he knows Lucas.

"Do you know where Lucas is?" I ask him with hope that he does.

"No," he answer flatly, causing me to stare at him in confusion. I think he knows something but he just won't say it.

"Answer her." Corbin comes from behind me and hand him some money folded together. There must be at least more than $200 in that pile.

He scoff, amusingly, at Corbin and said, "Around here, snitches get stitches." He move away from us.

Well, it's clear he won't say anything.

I sigh and get out of there. "Where the hell is he?" I mutter under my breathe once I'm outside of the bar.

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