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Chapter 8. Locker Dilemma

Pic Of Dylan On The Side- Played By: Grant Gustin>>>>

Chapter 8. Locker Dilemma

  It's been a full twenty-four hours and still nobody knows what the fight was about. I'm driving Dylan and Lila to school with me because Dylan's car keys got snatched from Dad because apparently he is 'grounding him' or something because he punched him in the face. Since when is my father actually a father?

"What do you think the fight was about?" Dylan, my pestering brother, asks me.

"I don't know." I say for the fifth time.

"Drop me off here." Lila says from the backseat.

"Lila, we're a block away from school." I say, confused.

"I don't want my friends seeing me get dropped off by you."

Well that stung.

"Dylan drops you off everyday! You're fine." I say firmly.

"No, I make him drop me off a block away too."

I look over at Dylan with a 'seriously?' look, in which he shrugs.

"We're not dad, relax. Why are you embarrassed? You're like twelve, you can't drive yourself anyway." I argue.

"For your information, I'm fourteen. And so what? It's embarrassing because both of you are like the gossip subject of my class." She huffs in annoyance.

"I always knew your friends had crushes on me." Dylan remarks cockily, with a smirk plastered onto his face.

"Gross! No!" Lila gags.

"What do you mean gossip subject? We have no lives why would they care?" I say.

"Speak for yourself, I'm popular with the football team.. and the ladies." Dylan smirks and I snort at his unbelievable lie.

"No you aren't." Lila disagrees.

"Shut up, loser!" Dylan snaps at Lila.

"Both of you shut up, we're here." I say casually.

"Oh, great.." Lila mutters, quickly getting out of the car and keeping her head down.

I roll my eyes at her and go into the student parking lot.

"What did she mean by subject of her class, though?" Dylan asks, grabbing his backpack.

"I don't know, but I don't care. We have to hurry or we'll be late for first period." I say, parking the car.

We both get out of the car and go our separate ways. I go left, he goes right.

I run into the big school building, after trudging up the seven concrete steps.

I run down the halls and quickly open my locker as students shuffle past me.

I grab my first period book, which is English.

The bell rings throughout the hallway, making me queasy.

I cannot be late to class. I'm already hiding like three notices of being late from dad.

I slam my locker and sprint down the now empty hallway.

I turn sharply around the right corner and skid to a stop, knocking on the locked classroom door.

An unfamiliar looking man frowns and opens the door for me.

"Name?" He asks.

"Who are you?" I ask, ignoring his question.