Avoiding The Bad Boy

Part 16

I could feel Dash's eyes on me as he walked over to the desk behind me. My heartbeat was getting faster and faster with every footstep of his. And when he sat down, it felt like I was standing right below a double-edged sword. Guilt and anxiety intertwined, creating a sinister blend, slowing seeping in my bloodstreams, poisoning me.

"Would you relax. He doesn't know, but he will know if you keep behaving, like this," Tracey admonished, elbowing me from the side.

"I can't help it. He will kill me," I hissed.

"How would he kill you when he doesn't even know you lost the button?" My best friend was getting annoyed, but I couldn't blame her—I was annoying was I was worried or nervous about something.

"Because he is Dash and he knows all the things he is not suppose to," I whispered. It was official, the teacher was not paying attention to the class.

"That is true. But, no one is going to tell him that you lost the button; not me and not you—although with the way you're acting, that might not be the case and he will end up finding out." Tracey glared at me.

"I don't want to be the one to tell him." I was having a strong urge to bite my nails, but that was not healthy. I still wanted to bite my nails.

"Then stop acting like you've just committed a murder and act like nothing happened. If Dash asks you about the button, then act dumb—"

"Hey! I am not dumb!" I protested.

Tracey rolled her eyes. "I mean, act like you don't know anything about the button and pretend to be shocked."

"Okay, yes, I can do that. I think," I muttered the last part to myself, trying to pretend that my crazy boyfriend was not sitting behind me. Which was harder than it seemed because I could feel his eyes as if they were physical human beings sitting on my shoulders.

I cursed as I heard a soft thump, which was the sound of my backpack falling on the floor. I had slid the straps over the corner of my chair, but now it had fallen. I picked up my bag and turned around to slide the straps back on my chair, which had me locking eyes with my boyfriend.

"Hello, chocolate chip. I didn't see you at breakfast today, where were you?" Dash asked, not bothering to keep his voice low. Perhaps I should smack him in order to make him respect teachers. Maybe, all Dash needed was a little brain damage.

You are a terrible person for wishing ill on your boyfriend!

I had decided a long time ago not to listen to my inner voice. Instead, I focused on the task at hand; which was answering my boyfriend.

"I wasn't very hungry, so I decided to skip breakfast and come straight to class," I fibbed.

"And what about yesterday? I didn't see you at dinner," he continued.

"I had an early dinner because I had a lot of studying to do and I had to read Janice's journal." Wow, I was good at this lying thing. If the rest of my academic career continued the way it was going now, then I had no hope of getting into a decent college or let alone get a decent job in the future. But if I was a good liar, then I could get a job as a con artist.

"Oh really? Did you find anything useful? The cops are interviewing students. What are you going to tell them when your turn will come?" He questioned.

I pursed my lips, contemplating about the possible answers I would give to the cops. I could not tell them that I stole Janice's journal and suspected Lauren as the killer. Because if I did that then the cops would accuse me of tampering with evidence—which I got to know after my research in the library while I was hiding from Dash during lunch. However, if I did not tell them what I knew then I would be obstructing justice, and that was an offence I had no intention of paying the penalty for.