A Month To Live

A Month To Live (22)

Bradley caught up with me and I turned to him with a glare.

'So I’m guessing you don’t know what George is talking about either?' I asked.

‘I – erm, no I don’t,’ he said, his face shifting into one of guilt.

‘You do!’ I exclaimed, stopping in my tracks. ‘What is it?’

Bradley tugged on my arm and forced me to start walking again.

‘Seriously don’t stress yourself out about it,’ he said in what he thought was a soothing voice. ‘It’s nothing.’

‘Well it obviously is something – and why is everyone telling me not to stress out? Does it look like I’m stressed?’ I asked loudly.

He glanced sideways at me. ‘Well... kind of,’ he said meekly. I wrenched myself free of his hand and punched his arm – hard.

‘Ow,’ he scowled, rubbing his hand on his bicep. ‘Unnecessary!’ he exclaimed.

‘You’ll be looking forward to lots more of them if you don’t tell me what’s going on,’ I growled.

He pushed me through the doors in front of him and noticeably picked up the pace as we passed  the reception desk.

'She’s not there, idiot!’ I snorted, rolling my eyes.

‘Oh, thank God,’ he breathed in relief.

‘Come on!’ I whined, glaring at him again.

‘Ask George,’ he said evasively.

‘There’s no point asking him if you know!’ I said, tugging on his shirt.

‘Quit whining and go to your lesson,’ he said, ushering me towards my classroom and not giving in.

‘Don’t make me get revenge on you,’ I warned.

‘I can’t wait.'

I narrow my eyes and found a seat near the back of the classroom. Remi strolled in a few moments later and headed straight for me with a frown.

‘Okay, I asked Kyle and says he doesn’t know what George is talking about,’ she began.

‘Bradley knows,’ I grumbled.

‘Oh, really? What did he say?’

‘He won’t tell me,’ I muttered. I fished my textbook from my bag and slammed it on the table.

‘What, why?’ she asked.

‘I don’t know, but doesn’t it sound like something bad?’ I asked.

‘Er duh!’ she laughed, rolling her eyes. ‘Hmm... maybe they know someone who’s out to get you,’ she mused.

‘Wouldn’t they warn me about that?’ I snorted.

‘I suppose... maybe they know someone who likes you,’ she added. ‘That would explain why Bradley knows,’ she winked.

‘Maybe one of them scratched my car,’ I said thoughtfully, completely ignoring her last comment.

‘Maybe-’ Remi started but broke off as the teacher walked in.

‘Quiet down,' he called.

Remi and I shared a grimace.

*   *   *

‘Okay so why are we in the janitor’s closet?’ George asked with a raised eyebrow. ‘It smells like bleach,’ he complained, wrinkling his nose. 'Or cheap tequila.'