My High School Life [Rewritten - Ongoing]

20. [Isabella]

"Are you okay?"

My eyes shot open when I heard his voice. Ignoring the comfort I felt earlier, I quickly pushed him aside, distancing my body away from him.

"What do you want, Thomas?"

"Oh come on. Is that any way to greet someone who just saved your life?" I pressed my lips together, staying silent. What the fuck was that about? And why the fuck did I feel like that? "Okay . . . if you must know I just wanted to see if you wanted to hang out today?" he asked. His blue eyes shifted away from mine the moment I looked up at him.

"I'm busy."

His smile faltered a bit, but not completely. "It'll only be an hour."

"Why should I even say yes?"

"Because it'll be fun," he replied back with. "And because you owe me for catching you. You could've hit your head otherwise."

"Do I?" I challenged as I crossed my arms across my chest. I tapped my foot as I waited for his answer. His smirk wavered slightly, but he eventually nodded and stood his ground. "Fine," I groaned. I guess, I do owe him something at least. "Where are we going?"

His face brightened up at my answer. "Bowling."

"Bowling?"

He nodded. "It's really fun, I promise."

"Right. Fun," I answered with a roll of my eyes. "Are you driving, or should I?" The faster this day ended, the sooner I can go home and sleep.

"Um, I could, unless you want to drive your car?"

"Nah. I'll just have my friend drive my car back for me."

"Alright, cool," he responded with, his smile forever etched on his face.

I held in a laugh. Amanda was right. He was so screwed once I'm done with him if he's this happy already.

"So, that's the plan."

"You're seriously going bowling with Thomas?" Amanda asked, staring at me like I grew two heads.

I sighed and pulled my car keys out of my back pocket. "You can drive my car home."

Her eyes lit up like a christmas tree. "Well, why didn't you say so in the first place? Of course, I'll do it."

I snatched my keys back when she reached up for it. "Drive slow." I narrowed my eyes in a warning.

She pouted. "But—"

"—slow."

"Mood killer," she grumbled, but nodded. "Also, you better tell me everything when you get home. Don't think I forgot about Thomas."

"Don't worry, I will," I promised her. I gave her a quick hug goodbye and ran back to where I'd left Thomas. He was still standing in the middle of the parking lot with his lips stretched into a goofy grin.

"Sorry about that."

Thomas looked up, and quickly ran over. "It's fine," he said while he brushed his fingers over my hand. I looked down when our hands were intertwined. I frowned. Why don't I feel disgusted about this? "Come on. My car's parked this way."

When Thomas started slowing down, I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw his car. It was a classic Honda—a car I didn't think Thomas would ever drive. I'd pictured him having a Volvo or some expensive sports car. It was honestly a pleasant surprise to see him own something different. It almost makes him sound a bit decent.

"Nice car." And for the first time, the compliment wasn't a lie.

"Thanks." Thomas flashed me a smile. "I had to work extra hard to get my hands on this bad boy," he said as he ran his hand across the hood. Work extra hard on what? His grades?

The question I'd wanted to ask got lost as Thomas held the passenger's side door for me. "In you go."

I walked forward, and gave him a small thanks in return.

After he'd shut the door, he ran around and got into the seat next to me. His shoulders brushed against mine for a split second as he fussed with his seatbelt. His brows dipped in concentration when he started the car, his hands tight on the wheel.

I looked away from him and buckled myself in. "Question."

He glanced at me. "Mmh?"

"Before." I pointed behind my shoulder. "What did you mean when you said you had to work extra hard for this?"

"Oh." He gulped. Seconds later I heard him swallow. "Well . . . the thing is I had to pay for it with my own money."

"Your parents couldn't buy it for you?"

"They couldn't." His eyeballs hung low in their sockets. He gripped his jeans tightly, his knuckles turning white.

"How come?"

"They're dead."

I bit my lips, trying to control my racing heart.

No.

I shouldn't, and yet I couldn't deny it. The sadness flowed through my veins like poison, and deadened my mind. No matter how much I wanted to refused it, I couldn't.

I was feeling sorry for him.

He just looked so sad with his eyes frozen over and his body hung limp.

"I'm sorry, I-I didn't know." But, I should've. I should've known something was wrong the moment he gripped his jeans. But I didn't think it was because of this. I thought he was just mad because his parents couldn't buy it for him. I always thought Thomas was one of those spoiled, rich kids that got everything they wanted, but I guess I was wrong.

He cleared his voice and smiled weakly at me. Blinking away the stray tears in his eyes, he looked at me, smiling through the pain. Despite my dislike for him, all I wanted to do was hug him and tell him everything was going to be all right. I couldn't imagine coming home everyday and not seeing my parents there.

"It's fine. Let's just go bowling."

I nodded, not knowing what else to say. "Let's," I said as loudly and cheerful as I could. It was the least I could do for bringing up the topic in the first place.

Maybe, just maybe there was more to Thomas than I'd originally thought.

Cover by Thenextbignothing