Chapter 5- Stolen?- Part 1

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PART 1

'Tell me! Tell me all! Tell me now!' Amber demanded, slamming the school door shut behind her. I couldn't help but laugh, she was so snoopy. I pretended to ponder for a moment

'Nahh, I don't think I will.' I chuckled at the devastated expression on her face, trying to push my most recent encounter with Alex out of my head. I would save all the thinking and mulling over for later, right now I needed to focus on keeping Amber in the dark about, well, everything.

'Holly, you tell me and you tell me right now Missus. Since when have you and the Mr Godlike himself been on speaking terms? What were you talking about? Is he as nice as he is perfect? Do you like him? Don't ruin my fun!' She rattle off her questions at top speed, and it took a moment for me to process them, she continued to fix me with a pleading stare, which only succeeded in making her look like a stoned frog. She REALLY can't do puppy dog eyes.

'Firstly, you have a boyfriend.' I tutted disapprovingly at her. She vaguely waved this, apparently insignificant, fact off.

'Secondly, he just asked me if I knew where Miss Walker's classroom was. That's all. Capeesh.' I tried to shrug off her questions, keeping my eyes straight ahead. I hated lying to her, but really, I had no choice. No, that wasn't true. I'd had a choice, years ago. I could have told her about me, and my Dad. I didn't. Now, it was too late. Even if she could somehow get over the fact that I could read minds, I'd still lied to her for years.

'No way Miss Dark and Mysterious over there. You are not getting away with that! I want all the details! And, Hol, please promise you'll never employ such terrible use of mafia slang again, or we can't be friends anymore.' She did have a point, I was acting mysterious. Dear lord, I was being like one of those annoying girls you read about who whines about being lonely, but then never talk to her friends.

It was at this very point that I made a decision, I was going to start being honest with Amber. Well, as honest as I could be. I would NOT be one of those mope-y drama queens. No sir-ee.

'Ok, look. He just wanted to ask me about some work. But then we got to talking and then your boyfriend interrupted us, and THEN you came out singing your little heart out!' I sent her a sly glance. She ignored this; she obviously suffers from selective hearing.

'I think a little fix-up is in order. You should seriously try and get his number or something. I could ask him for you. Or I could ask Jared to ask him for you, but that's kind of immature. Then again, YOU are kind of immature.'

'I will not dignify that with a response,' I grumbled, making a face at her.

'And I do NOT need you setting me up. I'm seriously not interested in having a boyfriend. Now I understand that you find that hard to comprehend, needy little being that you are, but please. Just try. For me.' This earned me a whack on the head with Amber's science book.

It was such a relief to get home that night. After answering Amber's shamelessly intrusive questions (my personal favourite being: 'Did he have sweat patches in his armpit or groin area? Cause that means he was nervous around you and looooves you!'), as honestly as I could, I was finally able to relax. Of course this plan was doomed to fail. Having been in the house a grand total of five minutes, the sister from hell came a knocking at my door.

'Holly! I think I killed Brendon. Can I just flush him or what?' Came her muffled voice from the outside of my door. She was such a sensitive soul. Great, now my fish was dead. I sighed, kicking open my bedroom door, secretly hoping it would hit Kate in the face, it didn't.

'Kate! You can't just go around killing people's fish! Where is he? Why were you even NEAR him?' I ran to Brendon's tank, taking in the devastation she had caused. Somehow she had managed to snap one of the plastic sides off, water was still cascading over the cupboard, the remains of Brendon's tank were resting on. Brendon himself was flapping around aimlessly in a bowl only a quarter filled with water. He was not dead. He was a fighter! I busied myself finding a larger bowl, and filling it with clean water, all the while letting my thoughts drift to Alex.

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