The Class Agreement

23

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"Why'd you want me to come? I thought you said this had to stop," I said to Athena as I sat down in the chair I pulled in front of her desk.

She ignored what I said, "I wanted you to come because I have news about Gallagher."

My eyes widened, "What? What happened?"

She looked like she didn't want to tell me, but she had no choice, "He's caught some students already."

"Caught students doing what though? The Circle isn't really active anymore. At least ... I hope not. I haven't really bothered to keep in touch with Gunnar either."

She shook her head, "Some students are trying to start their own fight club since the Circle. There's also been an influx of cliques and "gangs" forming throughout the school."

"What the fuck? When — How?"

"We had a meeting about it. It really just seems to be the freshmen and sophomores which explains why most seniors and juniors aren't involved or have no clue about it."

I scoffed, speaking mostly to myself, "They're trying to start a meaninglessness war in here. And for what? Idiots."

"Gallagher said to not be surprised if certain students become targets and to be on high alert for any fights that may break out of nowhere and such. I mean I know this doesn't have much to do with you, but you have a history with fighting."

I rolled my eyes.

"I'm just warning you," She said. "Please be careful. Things are getting weirder around here."

"Sorry to break it you, but things have always been weird around here."

"Yeah, I guess. Just be on the lookout and stay out of trouble," She warned. "Who was that blonde kid by your car when school first started?"

How does she even remember that.

It probably isn't a good idea giving away Kendall's identity just because he's not supposed to be near the school at all, but it's Athena and at this point there's no reason for lying or hiding anything.

"Kendall. He's uh — we have ... history."

She hummed, "Well, okay ... how was your weekend?"

"Fine," I lied. "A different kind of weekend I guess. What about you?"

She shrugged, "Busy. Is everything okay? You look better than what you did this morning."

"Well, I think the coffee wore down enough for me to function properly. So that's probably why."

"How come you couldn't sleep?"

"It doesn't matter."

She sighed, "I'm just trying to make sure everything is alright. It's not like you go to see Mrs. Porter."

"So you're worried? Isn't that too personal?"

"Nova—"

I cut her off, feeling my frustration and anger at my throat, "I said more than once you don't have to be my therapist."

"You need to calm down—"

"Don't tell me to calm down. I'm perfectly calm. I'm just tired of you pulling me in to push me back out. You need to make up your goddamn mind already."

Hurt flashed across her face, but she didn't say anything. Instead, she rubbed her temples and leaned back in her chair. What is she really trying to do here?