Chapter 4: Lunch With The Claytons

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Swallowing a gulp, I turned around then marched across the lawn. I made sure that the driver didn't see me until I heard a calm voice. "Hey," the guy said. I halted in my tracks, but looked back.

It was Oliver, crawling out of his car. He wore a casual white shirt, khaki pants, and sneakers. "Hello," he replied with a wave. "My name is Oliver-" "I know," I interrupted. "You're the guy who wanted me to investigate explosives, but Mom wouldn't go with it."

He stared at me for a moment then blushed. "Why are you here?" I asked coldly. "On my parents' driveway?" Oliver let out a sigh. "Fine," he sighed. "I am here to talk to your parents about the investigation-"

Dad opened the door and saw Oliver on the driveway. His expression was unsentimental. "Well," he sighed. "Speak of the devil. Why exactly are you harassing my daughter?" Oliver stared into his bitter green eyes then back at me.

"He wanted to see if you are in the house," I explained. Dad glanced at me then gave me a patient smile. "Go to school, Cleo. Your mother and I will handle him." I nodded politely, continuing my way until I saw a huge white school building right in front of me.

I was happy to see my classmates are still hanging with their friends on the lawn, the front doors of the school are closed tight, and thankfully the bell hasn't rang yet. Just then, my happiness turned bitter when I saw Jerry and Isabel glaring at me. Jerry is still wearing his football jersey while Isabel wore a yellow summer dress.

"Did you two lovebirds have fun in detention?" I asked snidely. "Or did you two get suspended?" Their eyes widened at my insult then hurried off to meet their friends. Speaking of friends, I haven't seen Paige or Jared since I went to Harlem. I wonder where they could be?

The bell suddenly rang as the two front doors open automatically. Classmates of all ages poured into the school building, like marbles filling a glass. As I stepped inside, I thought of dialing Paige and Jared's phone number, or even text them.

But out of nowhere, I saw them leaning against their lockers, talking discretely at each other. "Hey guys," I said, waving at them. Paige looked up and grinned. "Hey Detective Cleo," she replied. "How was Harlem?" Paige's hair is currently dirty blond. She wore a white shirt that says It's Called Life, Deal With It in black cursive letters.

She had long ripped up black pants and sneakers. Jared looked the same: he had brown hair, dark eyes, but this time, he wore black clothes.

"Cool," I answered with a shrug. "Your project was pretty cool," Paige continued. "So was yours," I said. "Why haven't you called?" "Our Mom and Dad are getting a divorce," Jared explained. I stared at them in disbelief.

They couldn't get a divorce, I thought. They look so happy together. Paige glared at Jared for a moment then gave me an apologetic look. "It's fine, Cleo." Paige reassures. "Sorry, that we didn't call or text-"

"It's fine," I interrupted. "If you want you can have a sleepover at my place. I have plenty of room, Paige." A smile appeared on her lips. "Are you sure?" she asked suddenly. I nodded.

Just then, the bell rang for first period to start. Jared waved us goodbye and left us girls alone. Paige grabbed a backpack over her shoulder and slung her arm around me.

"Come on Leonardo Da Vinci," she exclaimed. "Let's kick some academic butt." I smiled back at her then followed her into math class. As soon as we entered the room, Mrs. Crabby wrote something illiterate on the chalkboard.

Kids filled the empty seats while desks are covered in sheets of paper, pencil, and pens. Paige led me to the front of the classroom and sat right next to me. "Freaks," someone muttered.

Paige turned around and gave the kid a look that made him wet his pants. The boy clamped his mouth shut then gazed at his math textbook. Suddenly, she leaned over and whispered something to me.

"I have a question: why is Jerry and Isabel look like they are ready to kill you?" she asked. "I'll tell you at lunch," I promised. Mrs. Crabby clapped her hands together and began the class.

"Okay," she began. "Open your textbooks and go to page one-hundred..." After we wrote down equations on a single piece of paper, we dissected frogs and inspected formulas in Science class, read a Catcher In The Rye in English, and finished coding in our computers.

At lunch, the cafeteria served spaghetti and meatball, Paige's least favorite meals. Mostly because, she couldn't stand the sight, the smell, and the taste of meat. I handed her my carrot and celery sticks. She took it gratefully then nibbled on the carrot.

Jared sat next to me and unraveled his lunch bag. For an instant, I could see his eyes widened when he saw his twin sister eating carrots and celery. "Since when have you stopped eating meat?" Jared asked.

Paige glared at him. "Shut up," she grumbled. "I thought Mom packed you some desert or something." Jared murmured. Without a word, Paige reached into her bag and swatted his shoulder with a textbook.

"Why do you keep doing that?!" Jared shrieked. "Because you tick me off," Paige snarled. I didn't want to get involved by the twins' obnoxious antics, but they were my best friends, no matter how loud they are. "Paige," I sighed. "Stop hitting your brother."

Paige gave me a look while Jared blushed at me defending him. "Jared," I sighed again. "Stop ticking off your sister." "Ha," Paige beamed. "Shut up," Jared groaned. "Oh, you never told me about Joker and Harley Quinn." Paige reminded.

I blushed fiercely in frustration. "Sorry," I began. "I got them into detention." Paige and Jared stopped eating their food. "What?" she squealed. "Cleo, give me details!"

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