More Than This (on hold)

Chapter Four

"I can't believe you invited him to eat lunch with us." Amy had just gotten to her desk in science class, and Carley was actually on time.

"How could I not ask him?" Carley shot back, sliding into her seat. "Give me one good reason."

"I have a couple good reasons," Amy stated, as suspicious of Jesse now as she had been at Le Petit Café. "One, he followed me to the movies. Talk about stalkerish! Two, he followed me to the movies. Three, he followed me to the movies!"

Carley laughed, and Amy realized she was not at all worried about Jesse's behaviour. Carley leaned across the aisle and whispered, "He's new around here. Did it occur to you that he didn't know where the movie theatre was, spotted your uniform through the car window and knew that if he followed you, he'd end up at the movies?"

Amy raised an eyebrow. "That's highly unlikely. I doubt he could have seen the logo on my shirt when it was that dark outside." She had to raise her voice a little to be heard over the students who were milling into the classroom. "The guy followed me, Carley. We both saw his black Porsche in the parking lot. There was never a Porsche in our parking lot until now."

Carley leaned back in her seat as students began to cut down the aisle. "I won't rule out the possibility that he stalked you." She took a deep breath. "You're my best friend. Listen, I'll ask him straight up why he followed you. Okay?"

Amy bit her lip, watching as more students filed into the classroom. She did want to know why he'd followed her...She folded her arms across her chest. "Okay. But if he gives a dumb excuse, I'm keeping my guard up. Way up." Amy turned to face the front, aware that class would start soon.

Carley turned to face the front as well. "Just keep in mind," she repeated, eyes ahead, "that maybe—just maybe—he wanted to chill at the movies, knew you worked there, followed you there and wanted to be served by a friendly face. Also, that he had already registered to go to our school. Badda bing, badda boom." Carley let out the breath she had been holding. "That has got to be the longest sentence I've ever said."

"Ha." Amy raised her voice as the bell rang and Brad scurried in. "Try Charles Dickens. He was paid by the word, so you can bet he rambled on and on and—"

Carley held out her hands in a 'stop sign' gesture, a playful smile on her face. "You can stop right there. I get the picture—or novel. Get it?"

A sinister laugh beat off the walls. Amy's gaze flew to the front of the room, where Mr. Hicks was standing, head back and fists upwards, basking in victory. He pumped the air with one hand. "I have succeeded again! Look at them!" He pointed to the students who were whining outside the door. "Caught—like fish on a hook!"

"And the biggest prize is swimming freely." Carley smirked and leaned back confidently in her chair.

Mr. Hicks looked at Carley, at the door, and then back at Carley. "Impossible. You're supposed to be late!" He marched down the aisle, stopping in front of her. "You're supposed to be late," he repeated. "Do you know how many times you've been late this month?"

Carley peeled off part of her nail, obviously not caring. "Let me guess...six times?"

Mr. Hicks opened his mouth as if to say something, but seemed to change his mind. "Yes, actually." He adopted his usual stern look. "One more late, Miss Andrews, and I get to send you to the principal's office." He stalked back to his desk and leaned against it, patting the area behind him as if he were looking for something. "Class, you have the rest of the period to complete your labs." Not able to find whatever he was looking for, Mr. Hicks snatched a ruler off Marcus's desk in the front row. It flew to his armpit, as if magnified.