The Original Bad Boy

16| Suicide or Homicide

"I think we should just go home," I say in a firm tone. Turning to my instructor, I say, "Nice meeting you, Mr. Dexter."

"Call me Vivian outside school," he says. Arsen's eyebrow raises at the speed of light as he finally looks at Vivian. Vivian looks at me questioningly. "Your boyfriend?" He hasn't identified the trouble maker yet.

"Friend," I say, blood rushing to my cheeks. Both of their eyes rest on me and I swiftly add, "We better head home, now. See you at school, Mr. D--Vivian."

Gripping Arsen's forearm tightly, I drag the zombie away from Satan and assimilate into the crowd.

He gestures me to trail behind him towards a door illuminated by the red light of an exit sign. Even though I hesitate, Arsen forces me enter inside and "live a little."

As expected, my plea of going home hasn't been heard.

Erie music and shrieky laughter surrounds us at this Halloween party. Assuming us to be one of the parade members, the people around us resume their dancing, chattering, etc. The haunting atmosphere fills me in with a different energy. Instead of running to the nearest exit, I follow Arsen all the way to the corner . . . where the festive themed food is.

"Who was that creep?" Arsen asks as he takes a handful of oreos and starts stuffing his mouth with them.

"Our gym teacher," I reply and help myself to a cupcake.

Arsen swallows and replies, "Dexter?" I nod, impressed at his sharpness. Soon, my face morphs into disapproval when he gulps a glass of suspicious liquid. "Why did you leave so rudely then? He might press down on every single pressure point in our bodies the next time we see him at school."

"You don't have to worry since you never show up for class." I point out. "I'm the one who gets stuck having him as my partner." Arsen simply gives me a sideways glance and takes another drink. As an afterthought, I say, "He smells good, though, whenever we're doing the bear hug stuff."

"And I don't?" I shrug nonchalantly. Of course, he smells amazing, however, I'd rather not clarify I go around smelling him when he's close tone. "Wait, bear hug?"

"In case someone hugs me without my consent, I need to know the counterattacks," I tell him. "And you never show up, so me and my partner-less self gets stuck with either Mr. Dexter or hooligans like you." Arsen doesn't utter a single word rather downs another glass of clear liquid. I grab a glass and sniff it. "What is this stuff?"

"H two O."

Cautiously, I sip the glass and immediately wrinkle my nose at the bittersweet aftertaste. I quickly bite down on my cupcake to eliminate the nasty taste from my mouth.

Arsen laughs, shaking his head.

All I know is that it's going to be a tough night.

¤》¤《¤

"For the sake of humankind, stop drinking every single alcoholic drink you can find!"

"Make me." He smirks and almost stumbles a step. "Okay, that was a little too much."

After dancing with everyone (including me) and temporarily going insane, Arsen's finally captured. By me. Both of us are tripping and marching towards his bike. The fishy drink was nothing other than some spirit (not literally) drink.

"Now, you noticed?" I say in disbelief.

"Shut up and enjoy the night. I d-don't do things for other people very o-of-ten." With his head slightly tilted, he leans against me. I catch a whiff of his nasty alcohol breath and flinch.

"Really?" I say slightly disgusted. "Should I feel honored?" He shrugs, his eyes anywhere but at me. "A tiny part of your icy heart still cares about me, doesn't it?" I ask softly.

"Meh." He scrunches his nose. "I j-just didn't want to . . . "

"Didn't want what?" I press.

"Didn't want to see you crying."

Our eyes lock and I'm extra aware of the fraction of a distance between our faces. He rests his head on my shoulder and I sigh in an exaggerated manner. The liquor has completely taken over him. As we reach his bike, I scratch my temple and wonder what's the next step. How am I supposed to get home?

Arsen falls over the bike.

"Why don't we hail a cab home?" I suggest. My parents would still be at work and as for friends coming and picking me up . . . it's out of the question. "You aren't in any condition to drive and I'd like to live a little longer."

"Didn't you say something about wanting to drive a bike?" He says, his head raised.

I shake my head vigorously. "Not today. Especially, not from a drunk arse."

"Don't expect me to ditch my poor baby in an empty parking lot at the death of the night," he says, hugging his bike. For a moment, I wondered if he's actually drunk or faking it. The bloodshot eyes confirm he is. "Not on Halloween either."

"Arse, you can pick it up tomorrow," I insist. "Let's get a cab--"

"It's the only thing I've left of my parents," he says in a low voice. "I ain't letting it go." I scowl at his words and observe the bike. Is it really his parents'? We were incredibly young when we hopped on his dad's bike. Is it the same one? I couldn't tell.

Let's just say, my memory isn't the sharpest.

Arsen keeps his hold on the vehicle, persistent on not using other means of transportation. He's done a lot for me tonight and I know I'd feel guilty if I leave him here. After all, I was on a mission to help him trust me, so that I could reach Skylar.

"I'm not leaving without the bike." That sentence is on repeat.

"Can't one of your friends pick us up?"

"Nah."

I want to burst into tears, but know it won't help our case. We've landed on the last option in the list.

"I guess tonight's gonna be my last night on earth," I say with fake cheerfulness.

"Why? Are you committing suicide?"

"Something like that," I respond.

"Whacha mean . . ." He trails off, following my gaze to his bike. "Suicide or homicide?"

"Well, that depends on your teaching skills."

"Worst comes to worst, w-we'll die in each other's arms."

Oh yay.

Something to look forward to.

Not!

¤》¤《¤

A/N

Short chapter, yes, I know. I'm terribly sorry. I've been busy with university paperwork this week.

How was the chapter?

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Thanks for the incredible support so far! Please keep doing what you're doing.

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