Blackout

Original Edition: 16 | Pattern

Finally, the last bell rings, signaling the end of the period, and it feels like a small victory. I've accomplished my first goal. My second goal is to find Mason. Collecting my things, I stand from my desk, following my peers as they exit the classroom and enter the hallway. I move as quickly as possible without shoving my way around people, depositing my books in my locker and latching onto my backpack. I'm about to close the door when a slip of paper floats to the ground, and I frown.

Glancing around the hall surreptitiously, I try to see if anyone is watching me. Keeping my expression blank, I crouch down slowly, silently praying it's not from Dylan. My fingers connect with the paper, and I pick it up delicately, straightening out. I look around once more before dropping my eyes to the words scrawled in dark handwriting.

7pm. Rawley's Junkyard. I'll explain.

Breathing out a sigh, I feel a wave of disappointment. I'd hoped we could meet up right after school and hash things out, but I suppose I can wait until later this evening. I've gone all this time without knowing, so a few more hours won't kill me. Hopefully.

✘✘✘

The house is quiet when I get home.

Audrey's car is gone, and I assume she must be job-hunting after resigning at Antonio's yesterday. I try not to think about it as I kick off my shoes, sliding off my coat with a deep breath. Walking through the house, my footsteps feel too loud, and I peek out of the French doors to the backyard, catching sight of Scout along the way. She lays down her head on her paws, looking incredibly disinterested, and I feel a tug of sympathy.

I consider going out to greet her, before glancing at the now-faint scar on my hand, left there by our last encounter. Sighing and telling myself to grow a pair, I go into the closet, grabbing a dog treat before heading outside. The grass is damp on my socked feet, and I regret taking my shoes off.

Predictably, Scout stands up on all fours at the sound of my approach, looking tense and alert. I walk toward her slowly, trying to look as non-threatening as possible. As I get closer, she sniffs the air, as though she can smell the treat already. I give her a wry smile, noting the way her tail begins to wag.

"You get pretty lonely out here, don't you?" I say, raising an eyebrow, and her ears twitch at the sound of my voice. "Well, if you weren't so insistent on hating my guts, you could come hang out inside."

She whines, growing impatient, her chain sliding across the ground as she takes several steps toward me, and I laugh shortly, shaking my head.

"You're an easy bitch to win over," I tell her good-naturedly. "Know any tricks?" Holding the treat above her head, I watch her serious eyes as they remain glued to my hand. "Sit," I order, and she does so.

Smiling, I offer her the treat, still keeping my distance, and she devours it eagerly. "Good girl," I coo, my hand reaching out to pet her before I think better of it. I don't want to push my luck. She whines again, wanting more, and I hold out my hands, showcasing their emptiness. "Sorry, I'm all out."

Turning away, I head back to the house, thinking that it's best to leave her actually wanting something from me, so that maybe next time, my presence will actually make her excited. It may be a pipe dream, but I don't have many allies to choose from at the moment. Having a dog on my side might make me feel better.

Entering through the doors, I strip off my now dirty socks, grabbing my homework out of my backpack and heading to the living room. Taking a seat on the floor by the coffee table, I find the remote and turn on the television, hoping some background noise will drown out my overthinking and allow me to focus on my work. I pull out the problems from calculus that I failed to work on in class. Every time I so much as think of the names Dylan or Mason, I reach for the remote again, turning up the volume a notch.