A Condemned Haven

Chapter 4

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Clarke saw Jack walking to the bus stop the next morning but thought it best to leave him be. She liked the guy. He was the only person who talked to her as if she were a normal person. She walked into the school to see that, even though they had cleaned her locker yesterday, there was still the word murderer plastered there. Everyone stared as she walked down the hallway. What annoyed her most was Francis glaring at her from behind his football buddies. How did he even have the right to glare at her?

For all she knew he was the one who killed Brandon. Francis had practically had Brandon plastered to his ass before he died. They were like two peas in a pod, even though Clarke distinctly remembered that Brandon hated his guts, just like everyone else. They followed his every command for some reason, and it was annoying as hell. They followed him around like puppies ever since he started here his freshman year. He gave her a sickening smirk from across the hall, before continuing his chat with the other guys. Douche.

As the day went on more and more people questioned Jack about what Clarke was really like. He got trapped in the bathroom by a couple of Brandon's friends and they grilled him about her. They were relentless and pushed him around a bit, but James came in and practically threatened to kill them if they didn't get out of there. James was a bigger guy, but there was no way he could take a third of the team. No matter how strong he was, no one could take on that many people.

Jack went to find James after his third period and found him standing against his locker staring at his phone. Something had been off with him lately. Jack suspected that it was Clarke hanging around him, but he couldn't be sure. James was never openly hostile about Jack speaking to Clarke, but he could see James react every time her name was said by anyone. Jack wasn't sure if there was history there, but James had never mentioned her name before she got out of juvie. Jack was probably just worrying about nothing. James was probably just concerned for him like a good friend.

"Hey man thanks for helping out earlier." James just rubbed his eyes lazily and sighed.

"Jack man. I don't know how I feel about this whole Clarke thing. You know they would have never targeted you if you weren't working on this project with her, right? You practically offered yourself up on a silver platter." James ran a hand through his hair and closed his eyes. Jack hadn't noticed earlier, but he had bags under his eyes. He looked like he hadn't slept in days.

"This isn't just about Clarke. What's going on man? You look like death." James directed a playful glare in his direction before sighing.

"I don't man, I haven't been sleeping lately. I think even after all of this time I haven't moved on. She's still there in the back of my mind all the time. I've tried everything I can think of to fix it, but even that only makes it feel better for a little while." Jack knew exactly what he was talking about and in all honestly, he hadn't been prepared to talk about this. He was a little frustrated that James had brought it up, because now it would be the only thing Jack could think about all day.

"I think it will always be there, we just to find a way to live with it. If you really need to talk about this, we can hang out after school."

"Nah man. Ill handle it on my own. No need to bring you down with me."

"I'm your best friend my only job is to go down with you." James gave a little chuckle, but he still looked haunted.

"Not on this one, but thanks for offering." Jack gave him a pat on the shoulder and headed to his next class, which he was definitely late for.

James was off lately. It was something that Jack just couldn't place. He was trying to go to his class when someone grabbed him by the shoulder. Jack was shocked to see that it was Francis Kitger. Francis was a really tall black guy with ridiculously well-built muscles. He was one of the captains of the football team. In all honesty, he was a scary guy. Jack knew that Francis could easily beat the shit out of him. It wasn't like Jack wasn't fit. He did run a lot, but Francis was a whole separate level than him.