WHEN HE SAID "wanna get out of here?" I was fully convinced we were going back to our dorms to sleep. Like every other student on campus who didn't get invited to whatever cult thing in the forest back there.
But no, Elias's friend whose name still eluded me went all, "are you from around here?"
"Me?" I asked dumbly. "No, I'm from like, across the country."
We advanced a few paces in silence, before the male spoke up. "New York? Florida? Pennsylvania?"
"The latter," I said.
His face lit up. "Cool! How was it like? Were you in like, a public school before this? How was it like?"
"Huh?" I went. "It's whatever."
But he was all wide eyed and nodding, as though egging me on. As though - impossibly - interested in knowing what a public school is like. I scrutinized the male before me. He had impossibly symmetrical features, wore a white polo, and paired his outfit with expensive loafers.
In other words this was a white capitalistic male who had never seen struggle outside the bourgeoisie class.
"Well..." I started. But I was cut off.
"Is bullying still a thing? Hey, did you get bullied? That'd be so cool," he gushed.
I raised an eyebrow. Images of Patrick wriggling against the pole began flashing in my mind's eye. "No, of course not. Bullying is only in movies," I said sarcastically.
But he went wide eyed and nodded quickly. We were approaching the courtyard of Richmond Park Academy now. But I was wide awake, and so was this guy. So he linked his arms through mine, in a move that indicated this guy was physically affectionate (even with strangers).
"You wanna get food?"
"Uh, sure."
"Outside campus, man," he tugged me towards the entrance. I reminded myself of my first day here, the equestrian riders, the amalgamation of bright colours this place had to offer.
Richmond Park Academy wasn't anywhere near the city. The nearest town was hundreds of miles away - it was what made this place what it was. Isolated, fresh aired and extremely conducive for studying.
When we approached the entrance, it prompted a figure's attention. I could see the security guard's features through the faint illumination of streetlights.
"Excuse me, you may not leave the school compound on weekdays - "
Elias's friend beside me, whose name still remained a mystery cut the guard off in one motion. He'd stuffed his hands into his pockets and retrieved several hundred dollar bills. I silently watched the notes rudely hauled in the guard's face, then watched the guard scrambling to catch the dollar bills and bending down to retrieve those that fell to the ground.
I tried to hide my surprise. Elias's friend, who had arms linked through mine, tugged to get my attention.
His eyes were hooded in what little illumination the scene had to offer.
"You coming?"
"Yeah," I nodded.
I didn't know what I was expecting beyond the gates, but I didn't expect a sleek looking fuck-knows-what-model waiting for us with running engine.
"The Aston Martin DB11," Elias's friend let out a low whistle. "I love her more each time I see her."
I was led to the backseat, with him in tow. So I wasn't an expert on cars at all but this thing looked like it costed a fortune. Elias's friend had a chauffeur, one who was dressed in a suit at this ungodly hour.
"What do you feel like eating?" He asked me.
At which point, I didn't know if what I was feeling was shyness and nervousness... or something much worse. Like apprehension. I gulped and tried not to show what a pussy I was.
"Ice cream, to be honest."
"Say no more," he patted my forearm and informed the chauffeur of our destination.
The car purred to life and it sped smoothly down the empty road.
"Not much of a talker eh?"
"What's your name?" I finally asked.
"Forgotten already, Andrea?" He chuckled lightly. "I like you."
The sound of his laughter, against the purring of his expensive car made for quite the mood setter. I was staring down at my thighs, where my dress had ridden up a great deal. I counted the number of streetlights we passed - the number of times my pale skin lit up with the warm glow of a passing streetlamp.
"It's Darren," he finally sighed into the night. "So, how did you meet Elias?"
The mention of his name made my heart stutter. I rationalised my wild thoughts and I cleared my throat.
"Chemistry. How about you?"
"Same faction and shit. He lives three rooms away from me. We do a bunch of sports and manly things together... Yeah, we're tight. He's my bro."
"Manly things?" I raised my eyebrows suggestively.
"Not like that," he poked my sides, prompting a giggle as I am insanely ticklish. "Manly things like fishing at the creek, violent video games, rating chicks at bars... you know, the like."
Neither sounded like activities that should be confined to one gender but okay. "Cool," I decided to say.
"I guess you're more of a listener than a talker. Which isn't a bad thing, don't get me wrong. I'm more of a talker myself so I don't mind filling the silence."
"I'll talk if I need to," I offered with a strained smile. But he wasn't looking at my face.
"Ricardo... what the fuck," he was speaking to the chauffeur now. "Where are you going?"
The chauffeur made a choking noise at the back of his throat. "Sir, I'm sorry Sir, I made a wrong turning. Please Sir I need this job... We'll be right on track soon."
"Fucking hell go back to Mexico," Darren said under his breath before returning his attention to me. "So what made you transfer to Richmond?"
I angled my head so I was facing him. Now would be a good time to admit what kind of wild life I led back in Philadelphia, but my purpose here wasn't to glorify nor capitalise on my past for whatever tactic to socially advance.
I inhaled deeply as my neurones fired at the speed of light trying to come up with a good enough reason.
"Better future prospects," was all I offered.
"Ah," Darren said in understanding. "I always forget we're going to graduate in about a years' time. You can't be on scholarship, right? You came in a month late. Have you done your SATs?"
The abrupt change in scenery beyond the glass pane hinted at the fact that we'd arrived at the city. For the first time, I felt the car stopping. I almost missed the feel the traffic. I eyed the bright lights ahead, and I found myself with a strange urge to photograph the moment.
"Where are we?" I asked instead, not replying to a single one of Darren's questions.
"San Francisco," Darren answered easily. "Never been here?"
"Not really," I answered as I drank the city scape in.
Very soon afterwards, we arrived at what I assumed to be our final destination. It was a cute place, a 60s retro-esque diner. It was complete with music from that time, patterned wallpaper and sunburst mirrors. We were the only customers other than this group of teenagers seated at a far corner.
"I'll take a raspberry ripple," Darren said to the girl manning the counter. I could feel two expectant pairs of eyes on me as I surveyed the flavors before me.
Finally, I looked up. "Chocolate chip cookie dough," I made up my mind aloud, settling on a safe enough choice.
The girl behind the counter flashed us a polite smile before she got to work, scooping our respective flavors. I felt heat on my lower back, the presence of a hand. And then a warm breath in my ears. Darren was about to say something. I felt my phone vibrating.
I detached myself from Darren, fished into the pocket of my dress for my phone. Elias's name was flashing on the screen. My heart staccato-ed. I distanced myself from Darren before accepting the call.
"Hey," I said cautiously, curiously, hopefully.
"Andrea," Elias said my name. And I felt shivers running down my spine. "Where are you?"
He sounded breathless.
"Wait," he continued. "Is Darren with you?"
"Do you want to - "
"Fuck, no. I do not want to speak to him. Where are you?" There was an urgency in his voice that seemed misplaced.
"Uh - "
"No, don't answer that," Elias cut me off quickly. His voice was seemingly sharp from panic. "Move somewhere he can't hear you. Don't be suspicious."
"Okay," I said slowly. My heart was pumping with something else. Adrenaline.
I pretended to end the phone call.
"Hey, Darren," I said to the guy. "I need to use the restroom, I'll be back."
He nodded just as the girl placed two cups of ice cream before us. Just as Darren was fishing into his wallet for cash, I placed a hand over his.
"I'll pay you back."
"No you won't," he gave me a weird look. "Don't worry about it."
I smiled as politely as possible. "Thank you."
"It's nothing."
The moment I disappeared behind the swinging doors of the female restroom, I brought my phone back to my ears.
"Hey, sorry about that. You still there?"
"Yeah," Elias replied instantaneously. "Are you on campus?"
"No..."
There was a moment of silence, in which my thoughts ran wild with different reasons as to why Elias could be calling me. Did he perhaps like me? Did he care? He must care.
"Fuck," Elias finally said. It cut through the silent air like a razor blade. It was supremely hot. "Where exactly are you?"
"A female restroom," I said slowly. "Why?"
"This isn't funny, Andrea," Elias was speed walking now. I could hear the wind against the mouthpiece, the breathlessness in his voice.
Something shifted in the air. I clutched the phone tighter.
"What's wrong?"
"Andrea, you're not alone with Darren are you?"
I gulped. "Not really. We're in public. Oh, he's probably waiting for me - "
"This is all my fault," Elias let out stream of expletives, it was so smooth that it made for an oddly calming noise. I inhaled deeply, met my own eyes in the mirror. I didn't understand what was happening. So I asked.
"What's happening, Elias?"
"I'll just say it bluntly, Darren's a predator. You need to leave. Also, don't let your food or drinks out of your sight."
"What? A predator?"
Elias sighed. "Rapist."
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