Pretty Pheonix

Chapter 4 | Caught

The concrete footpath is hard and compact, just like everything that is solid, and the moment my shoes hit the ground, the instant urge to break into a run and sprint all the way to the airport grows stronger.

It's as if I can get a flight to Europe and find my way to the headquarters of the IIO and maybe everything can go back to the way it was before... I shake my head to get rid of the thought.

"There is only one way to get back, Blair. Remember what all this is about." I tell myself as I cross the parking lot.

The student parking lot of Victor High is huge and at the front of the school. A big parking lot for a big school.

Today is the second day of school and I've already been the victim of mockery thanks to a few guys from the lacrosse team. They had driven past me on the way to school in their 'impressive' corvettes and Jeeps and one had almost crashed into an oncoming car because, I assume, the driver was annoyed by the fact that I was unaffected by their words.

I walk past a group of freshman taking pictures and squealing and then a group of guys in sophomore year who snicker when they see me. I keep to myself. Until...

"Yo, Justice!"

I stop and groan internally before looking in the direction of the fool in the Porsche.

What does he want now?

Aaron Friar smirks from his car and in the free spot ahead of me, parks. He isn't alone, there's Logan in the passenger side and Simon in the back with their friend Vincent Drew. In an instant five girls crowd the car, cut jeans on, shirts two sizes smaller than them, show casing their breasts and the most unforgivable amount of makeup caked onto their faces that look a bit too oily. At least I knew what baking your makeup was.

"Justice, wait up." Aaron calls as he makes his way out of the driver's side. "We're good, right?" He asks when he reaches me, a mix between a smile and an evil grin on his lips.

"Yeah." I reply curtly and continue on. I don't have any intention of talking to anyone, least of all him.

"Wait." He steps in front of me, a hand behind his back, probably holding something.

"What?"

"Here, take this." He says as he pulls his hand out and gives me a star bucks cup.

"What's this?" I ask, irritated.

"Its a mocha latte." He says with an exaggerated "Trump" accent and I hear his friends, who are watching us from the car, chuckle.

I look at the cup and then at him, unconvinced. Nothing good has ever come from Aaron. For all I know this could be expired milk or urine. Why did he give this to me anyway?

Aaron seems to sense my disbelief and whips his hair to the side, and with a hideous pout he says, "come on Justice. It's just a latte. I know what I did yesterday was stupid and I feel guilty for doing that to you. We just bought this," Logan shakes his cup up to indicate that he has one too, "see, and this is mine." Aaron points out.

He definitely needs to google up what an apology is.

I don't buy anything, and I don't need to because I don't care. "And what am I supposed to do with this?"