Addicted To You

8| Mystery

Chapter 8: Mystery (Nathan's POV)

I got to school the next day, holding my coffee in my hand as I do every day. I got seated for class and put my head down on the table, craving the sleep I missed out on. I'm not a coffee drinker but I am when I've lost sleep. Let's just say after Emma dropped me home, things took a turn for the worst. 

I first had to sit through what felt like hours of yelling and get lectured, and then I said something, the problem is I don't remember what I said. But I said something disrespectful that earned me a few smacks to the face and a cut on my cheek. My dad is a single parent, my parents got divorced when I was around 3 years old and he's not very nice, let's just say that. We have issues. 

"Hey," Brandon said, taking the seat next to mine for the time being. "Whoa, what happened to you?" he asked, looking at my face. I rolled my eyes, sliding the coffee cup around the table. "Did you fight someone?" I shook my head. "Did your dad hit you again?" he lowered his voice. 

"Don't bring it up, man. I deserved it this time around, I must have said something disrespectful," I mumbled. 

"I will never understand what makes him think it's okay to hit you, you can keep looking for excuses," he rolled his eyes, moving over to his seat as the door opened. 

She came and sat in her seat, not even sparing me a glance. While she was shuffling around her bag for her notebook, she dropped her pen. She clicked her tongue in frustration, looking at it on the floor between our seats. I bent down, retrieving it for her and handing it to her. "Thanks," she mumbled, taking it from my fingers, "What happened to you?" 

I looked up, noticing her looking at my face. "I fell," I lied. 

"On someone's fist?" she asked, raising her brows sharply. 

I glanced at Brandon who was looking at me daringly. I can't get out of this one. "It's a mystery, leave it at that," I mumbled as Mr. Cole walked in. 

"Okay, we're gonna pick up where we left off last class, so please continue writing and once you're done, just leave your papers here in a pile, make sure your names are on there," he instructed. I'm so lost. "Mr. Sterling, you weren't here. Emma, please explain the task to him." 

We turned to each other, "Um, we're just writing a short story based on any one of these 3 prompts," she slid her notebook over. I read over the three prompts. Graveyard, amusement park, and cafe. 

"Descriptive?" I asked.

"Or narrative, your choice. Just choose a location and a style of writing. The word limit is 1000." 

"1000 words on one of these locations?" I asked. That's so boring. 

"Mr. Sterling, I want this in by tomorrow please." I nodded in understanding before getting to work. I don't know why everyone thinks I'm one of those students who doesn't do any of the work. I do all my work. As long as I feel like it, which right now, I really don't. 

I groaned, pushing the chair against the wall behind me, rocking it back and forth. "Which prompt are you doing?" I whispered. 

"A cafe," she answered without looking up. 

"Narrative?" 

"No, descriptive," she mumbled, focused on her work. 

"Why are you such a goody? Always doing your work," I groaned. 

She turned to me, giving me a subtle glare. "Is there anything better for me to do?" she questioned. I shrugged in response. "Oh, what am I supposed to do? Talk to you?" she scoffed.