This Diary I Found

11 :: Raccoon Eyes

CHAPTER 11: Raccoon Eyes

Louie covered the main building up to the gates. London (wo-)manned the school gymnasium and the library. Me? I got the locker room and the school field.

The locker room was empty, except for a few cockroaches that reveled in the newly wet surroundings. After double-checking, I rushed out to the field. It seemed even the school jocks decided to ditch practice after the fire alarm fiasco. Who wouldn't? It was freezing outside. The snowfall just started to worsen.

Just when I was about to regroup with the Steffenson siblings, I heard rushed footsteps by the bleachers. I hurried over to see who it was.

"Hurry up!" a teenage guy commanded and I watched as three ruffians attempting to scramble up the school fence.

"This is the last time I'm ever helping you break into the school," the only girl in the group mumbled, helping the first boy up the fence.

"It's the last time we're ever going to," the other boy – the smaller one – replied as he climbed over the fence after the first delinquent. His fringe of his fur coat got snagged on the fence. Emma, instead of helping him, just pushed him over. I was waiting for the boy to rage up. But they just laughed it off.

They didn't see me, but I saw them. I got a good enough glimpse from 10 feet away to recognize that the girl was none other than Emma Grange.

"Run along, you miscreants," Emma said, shooing them away.

"Bye, sis!" the guys bid farewell, turning on their heels and running away.

Sis?! Emma had brothers? Wow, I never knew that. 

 Well, that's odd. For one reason, I didn't get beaten up by them after I pushed Emma off my balcony. If some asshole pushed Lally off a chair, let alone a balcony, I'd make sure that fucker never got to use his arms again.

That only meant one thing: Emma didn't tell. But, why not?

The girl with the raccoon eye shadow, turned around and was about to leave. But I decided to confront her there and then. I stepped out from behind the bleachers, surprising Emma with a simple "Hey."

Her eyes widened.  She squealed, but quickly regained composure.

"Whatcha doin'?" I asked as nicely I as could. I didn't want to aggravate her more. God knows my mere presence was already enough to throw her into beast mode.

"Just helping Nanya," she said dismissively and began walking. I walked alongside her, maintaining that half a meter distance I would need if ever she felt the urge to slap me. You know, for safety measures.

"Who's Nanya?" I asked.

"Nanya business, Jettison," she retorted, picking up her pace. I had to speedwalk to catch up to her.

"Did you pull the alarms?" I went straight for the kill.

"Why do you care?"

"Because I'm a concerned Westmont High student."

She shot me a look and said, "I'm not really fond of shopping, so I don't really buy any of your bullshit."

"Come on, Em," I appealed. "Just tell me."

Noticing my not-so-usual desperateness, she stopped to evaluate me, eyes roaming over my features – from my dirty blond hair to my pumped up Adidas kicks. 

 "Why do you need to know?" she questioned, crossing her arms over her chest.

I sighed. I couldn't have gone straight to the diary girl thing! Subtle was my new approach. Remember what Melissa did when I jumped the gun? And that was just Mel. Imagine what other horrors Emma Grange, the girl who'd been in and outta juvie, can do. "I'm just trying to figure if you're the girl I think you are," I answered vaguely.