Social Experiment

By etherachel

3.9M 115K 82.4K

* * * Lauren Collins is a good girl. She's responsible and shy but has a tight knit group of friends, excelle... More

01 | Nothing Extra Ordinary
02 | Record Stores
03 | The Proposition
04 | One Step Closer
05 | New Enemies
06 | Good Different
07 | Past Curfew
08 | Beefy and Meaty
09 | The Rolling Stones
10 | Asked and Answered
11 | We're Ninjas
13 | Spy Kids
14 | In Too Deep
15 | Unsuccessful Disappearing
16 | White Christmas
17 | New Years Kiss
18 | Alone With Supervision
19 | The Morning After
20 | Boys Are Idiots
21 | Some Bad Boy Cliche
22 | Good Luck Charm
23 | No Reason
24 | Something Isn't Right
25 | Nathans Rules
26 | Riding Shotgun
27 | Movie Collections
28 | Sick Days
29 | Fake Boyfriend
30 | Friendly Favors
31 | Dream Of Me
32 | The Talk
33 | The Idiots
34 | The Championship
35 | The Boyfriend Kiss
36 | Dazed and Confused
37 | Call It Off
38 | Try Again
39 | Candlelit Conversations
40 | Because I Wanted To
41 | Road Trip
42 | The Cabin
43 | Happy
44 | Pong Championship
45 | Paradise Lost
46 | Toxic Thoughts
47 | Prove It
48 | Upside Down
49 | The Video
50 | Rumors, Lies, and Heels
51 | My People
52 | Locked In
53 | Changes
54 | The Race
55 | Waiting Rooms
56 | The Awakening
57| The End
Epilogue
EDITING IN PROCESS

12 | Meet The Family

70.3K 1.9K 1.6K
By etherachel

I could feel Cole's stare burning a hole though me the moment I stepped into our first period class, but I refused to give him the satisfaction of meeting his gaze. Instead, I carried on how I had this morning when he came to pick Luke up for school: I ignored him. Yes, maybe I was being a wee bit childish and cross with Cole for not telling me any information last night.

But even though I was well aware of my immaturity, I didn't stop. I was annoyed that he didn't tell me any of the answers that I was fishing for. So, I carried on with the plan of ignoring his presence, even when I sat down a few seats away and he got up to move his things so he could sit next to me.

I didn't even answer when he started talking, either. "Lauren? Come on, Lauren, don't be mad at me."

Instead of answering, I took out my notebook from my backpack and put it on my desk.

"If you knew the circumstances, you would understand why I can't tell you," Cole tried next, and I had to bite my tongue from yelling then tell me the circumstances!

I grabbed a pen from my bag and opened the notebook to a fresh page.

"You're giving me the silent treatment as if we're ten," Cole says casually, then adds, "It doesn't bother me."

Again, I have to bite my tongue so I didn't point out that his begging said otherwise, and he really was bothered. I begin writing the date in my notebook to busy myself.

He groans a moment later. "Alright, fine, it bothers me. Lauren, just talk to me already. Or don't talk, just look at me. Your middle school tactics worked. Are you happy?"

The teacher walks in as the bell rings seconds later and drops her bag on the desk before regarding the students. Cole slumped in his seat, and I happily took notes for the next forty five minutes, never once sparing my brothers best friend a glance. Actually, I converse with very few people for the first half of my day, and it's not until I'm in Environmental Science when I entertain a real conversation. It went something like this:

I was sitting at my table next to my smelly lab partner when Brett Peterson, a jock that sits in front of me, turned around. My eyebrows raised and I expected a stupid pick up line, or something along the lines of the shameless flirting that random guys in my classes have been trying with me since I've 'changed'. Instead, he looked at me and then down at my lab notebook, before glancing up at me again.

"Hey, Lauren," Brett greets with a thousand-watt smile. "Can I see your data from lab 5?"

My surprise made me hesitate before answering. "Oh, yeah, sure." I handed him my notebook. "Sorry if the handwriting is a little...well, horrible."

He looked down at my notebook and chuckled. "Trust me, I've seen worse. Thanks."

I cracked a smile as Brett turned around to examine something that he was having issues with. After a few minutes of monotonously adding drops of sulfate into a solution, I looked up to see Brett turn around again.

"Here you go. Thanks again," Brett hands me my notebook and then meets my gaze. "Are you coming to the game on Friday?"

Brett was one of Thomas' football buddies that was actually half decent. He was always nice to me when I saw him, which was usually in science or at a football game. I used to go to every game to see Thomas, but he would never hang out with me after; he always told me that he was going to his friends house to drink and that I couldn't come. I inwardly flinched at the memory, but outwardly shook my head immediately when Brett asked this.

"No, I'm not going to that game," I say, and then as an afterthought: "Or any game, really."

Brett frowned. "Why not?"

I couldn't tell if Brett was being nice, or if he really didn't know that Thomas and I ended things, so I just give him a brief summary. "Thomas and I broke up, and I really only went to the games to watch him play."

"I knew you broke up," Brett says nonchalantly, then presses, "but the games are fun to watch, don't you think?"

I shrug. "Yeah, I guess."

His frown turns into a grin and he leans forward as if he's going to tell a secret. "Truth be told, Thomas is pretty shit at football, so you're not really missing anything."

I crack a grin too, and he chuckles as I laugh at his words. "I never noticed, but I believe it."

Brett's eyes twinkled with amusement, and I wondered momentarily how I ever thought Thomas was a good guy in comparison to a decent boy like Brett. The bell rang to cut off the continuation of our conversation and I begin shoving things into my backpack.

Before I could make it out the door, I heard someone call my name. "Lauren, wait up!"

I turn around and see Brett in the process of slinging his backpack over his shoulder while he walked toward me. I wait in confusion, my eyebrows raised in expectancy for whatever he was going to say.

"What's up?" I ask as he walks over.

Brett shoots me an easy grin. "Just figured we'd walk to class together."

I blink at him in confusion and repeat, "Walk to class?"

"What, has nobody walked you to class before?" Brett teases, but upon seeing my expression, he frowns. "Wait, seriously?"

Sasha was always too enthralled in her studies to bother walking to and from class with me, and Bailey's schedule never matched mine. I'd be dreaming if I thought Thomas would take time out of his day to walk me to and from at least one class. Now that I thought about it, I haven't walked to class with anyone since Stephanie.

"Well, let's go then." I say with a shrug and offer a smile.

We began walking down the hall side by side, and I wonder why he had offered to walk to class with me. He hadn't been flirting with me- or at least, I don't think he had been- so I guess he just wanted to make a new friend.

"So," Brett says conversationally. "I saw you at the tracks on Saturday."

My eyebrows raised in surprise and I gave him a sideways glance. "You were there?"

"I never used to see you there with Thomas. When I asked him about it, he said you didn't know about the whole racing thing." He explains, and I briefly wonder why it seemed that everybody except me knew the the tracks existed. "I was surprised when I saw you there."

We turn down another corridor as I tell him, "Well, Saturday was the first time I've ever gone."

"I'm racing on Friday. You should come watch." Brett offers with a small smile as we come to a stop in front of my English class.

He looks at me expectantly, and I realize that he just gave me another set date for when Stephanie and I could go check out the tracks, so I grin and nod in excitement. "Yeah, that'd be cool. I'll definitely come check it out."

"Awesome," Brett matches my grin. "I'll see you tomorrow, Lauren. It was nice talking to you."

I wave, "You too, Brett."

And then I walk into my last period class with a mischievous grin on my face, ignoring all the stares that seemed to follow me everywhere I went, because I finally had a reason to go back to the tracks.

. . .

I drove back to my house with the radio off so I could allow my mind to process a plan of action for Friday night. And then, after I had a solid plan, I created a back up plan in case I saw Nathan. I had a feeling he would most likely throw me in his car and drag me home the second he saw me, so I hd to be careful about where I went. When I reached my house, all of my plotting ceased at the sight of Holden Brooks' silver BMW idling in front of my house.

I pull my car into my driveway before jumping out, curiously rounding my car and walking straight toward Holden's. His head was ducked down as he texted someone, but when I reached his car and knocked on the window, he finally looked up. I took a step back as Holden got out of the car and leaned against the door with an annoyingly cool expression and a smirk on his lips. I refrain from shifting uncomfortably when his dark eyes give me an obvious once over.

"Lauren, you look particularly sexy today," Holden tells me bluntly and crudely, his slick voice making me tense up.

Instead of showing my discomfort, I nod at him. "Holden," I acknowledge, and then move on to the interrogation phase of our interaction. "What are you doing here?"

His eyes flash to my house and then back to me. "Waiting for the kid to get his ass out here."

Holden's smirk widens as he crosses his arms over his chest and looks down at me intimidatingly. "Nathan said you asked a lot of questions," Holden mused. "Haven't you ever heard curiosity kills the cat?"

The rough undertone in his voice makes me want to challenge him even more, so I straighten up and meet his gaze. "I'd say it's worth the risk."

"You're feisty," Holden's smirk was only growing wider as he throws me a wink, and then leans forward until he's so close that his sticky breath stuck on my cheeks. "I wonder what you're like in bed."

His comment had me an equal mix of angry and uncomfortable as I opened my mouth, unsure what I was going to say but positive there would be some colorful language being used. The front door of my house slammed shut, effectively cutting my off, and a few second later Luke was standing in between us. Holden was smirking while eyeing me with his unsettling gaze while Luke looked at me with narrowed eyes, like he knew what I was up to.

"Lauren," Luke says tightly. "Why don't you go inside?"

His hard glare told me that it was more than just a suggestion, and I hardly opposed the idea of putting distance between myself and the scumbag in front of me. I met Holden's gaze one last time, annoyed by his smugness, before turning around and stalking toward the house. When I got inside, I went straight to the window and pulled the curtain back.

My curiosity, as always, pushed me into some questionable things: like spying on my brother. My eyes narrowed as I see Luke hand Holden a wad of cash. My jaw drops immediately, and my stomach clenched in foreboding. Holden just grinned and shook Luke's hand before climbing back into his car and driving away, leaving Luke standing facing the road.

When Luke turned around, he had the remnants of a smile on his face, but he let it drop all at once and looked troubled the next second. He ran a hand through his blonde hair roughly and his chest rose and fell with one deep breath. Holden Brook is a notorious drug dealer at Littleton High, infamously well-known at the police station and court house.

And when I watched Luke, my little brother, hand Holden what looked like at least a couple hundred dollars, I exploded with concern.

The front door opened, and I took a step towards it to see Luke already walking to me, his expression now angry. "Lauren, what were you doing with Holden out there? He was looking at you like you were a piece of meat."

I wanted to explode at him, tell him that he couldn't be angry at me when he was just handing Holden that kind of money. But then I realized that I couldn't yell at Luke or ask him any questions. Not yet, at least. He was already mad at me for inquiring about his friendship with Holden in the past, and I was afraid that if I kept it up, I would push him away even more.

Besides, I was painfully aware of the fact that nobody seemed to want to give me answers, including Luke. So I conceded quickly not to push him away any further and instead nodded solemnly at my brother, letting my anger sizzle down momentarily.

"Sorry, I was just asking him a question," I explain vaguely, and then hold my car keys tighter in my grip. "I need to go somewhere, but I'll be back to make dinner."

Luke was clearly surprised at my change of attitude. "Oh, uh, alright."

I give him a quick, forced smile before I walk past him and right back out the front door. My previously faded anger began to rise in me again when I get into the car and replay the image of Luke handing Holden money. Was Luke buying drugs from him? I wasn't stupid, either: Nathan's name fluttered around the grape vine right beside Holden's when it came to drugs.

Was that how Nathan knew Luke? Because he was selling him drugs? My chest hurt at the thought, and I couldn't tell why, so I marked it up to my growing anger and redirected it to Nathan. I needed answers, at least to this, and I wouldn't give up until I got some. Maybe not from Luke himself, but at least from Nathan.

One time two years ago, when I only had my driving permit, Stephanie had called me from a party at Nathan Rhodes house. She was utterly plastered, didn't have a ride home, and had just gotten in a fight with her boyfriend or something. I was too busy fuming over the fact that Nathan would sell drugs to Luke to even think of the drive to his house, but somehow, when I came to a stop a neighborhood or two over, I was sure I was there.

I stopped in front of a modest blue-painted house, with two cars in the driveway and a motorcycle behind the Mustang. I slammed my car door and stomped across the street, up the brick walkway, and stopped in front of the white door. My fist came down upon the door a little too harshly, but I only realized this after knocking incessantly.

I put my hands on my hips and glared at the door, prepared to start firing questions and accusations at Nathan, but when the door swung open, he wasn't the one standing there. In the doorway was a twenty-something year old guy with dark hair, brown eyes, and a facial structure that resembled Nathan's. And he was completely shirtless.

My anger was replaced with shock when my gaze dropped from his eyes to his toned stomach, and then the pair of sweats that hung dangerously low on his hips. Quickly, I raised my eyes again to meet his gaze, feeling my cheeks warm when his knowing smirk told me that he had totally caught me checking him out.

The guy leans against the doorway and gives me a once over as well. "I thought I ordered a new xBox game," His voice was deep and sounded mildly affected by cigarettes. "But I'll gladly take you instead."

My eyes widen a fraction and I hesitate before asking, "Where's Nathan?"

"Why are you looking for my baby brother when you could have me, instead?" The confidence surrounding him felt all too familiar, as did the smirk on his lips. "I was just about to lay down in bed, and I would love your company, sweetheart. What do you say?"

The shirtless guy looked down at me as if he expected me to accept his invitation and I was too shocked to say anything. Instead, I just stared at him incredulously, feeling wildly uncomfortable by a guy hitting on me for the second time in ten minutes. Apparently, there was no such thing as escaping the world of sleezebags who invite you into their bed.

Before I could come out of my initial site of shock, Nathan appeared in the doorway and looked at me with a hard gaze. His eyes shifted to the shirtless guy and they narrowed considerably before he scowled, "Ty, put a fucking shirt on and stop flirting with Lauren."

Nathan pushed past Ty and took a step outside. He turned around, shoved Ty backwards into the house, and shut the door behind him. Even though I was grateful that he had so effortlessly gotten rid of the source of my discomfort, I still felt my anger begin to boil up again. And when Nathan turned to look at me with annoyance evident in his features, I was even more pissed.

"What are you doing here?" Nathan snaps, his voice sharp and cold.

"Why are you doing with my brother?" I explode instead, matching his scowl with my own. "I didn't like Luke hanging around Holden to begin with, but now it needs to stop. Why the fuck is Holden selling drugs to Luke? He's my little brother, Nathan!" I take another step closer. "What is wrong with you? Luke is a good kid and I don't need you or Holden to fuck up his future."

By the time I'm done yelling, my chest is heaving, and I'm pretty tired from all of the screaming. But Nathan only looks amused by my outburst rather than angry or upset, and that makes me even more furious. Without thinking, I raise my arms to shove his chest out of sheer anger, but his hands catch my wrists easily instead.

Nathan raises his eyebrows at me and says slowly, "Lauren, Luke doesn't take drugs, and Holden doesn't sell them to him, either." And then he does something so beautiful that it just makes me more angry- he grins. "You're quite feisty. Who knew?"

"I'm done with guys calling me that today," I mutter to myself as I rip my wrists out of his grasp, then cross my arms over my chest. "Then why did I see Luke hand Holden a wad of cash outside my house?"

He stares directly into my eyes as he questions, "Did you see Holden hand Luke anything in return?"

I thought back to watching the transaction from behind the window pane, and realize that Luke had only given Holden money without receiving anything in return. I frown a myself when I suddenly feel less justified in my previous anger-driven screaming match at Nathan. "No, he didn't."

"Trust me: Luke doesn't do drugs." Nathan's voice is oddly calming. "I wouldn't let Holden sell to your little brother, either."

The sureness in his voice alone made me believe his words. I feel a strange sense of relief when I realize that I didn't have to worry about Luke getting mixed up in drugs followed by underlying confusion when I wonder why Luke had been giving Holden money in the first place. But I look back at Nathan's somber expression and momentarily forget about all of that.

Instead, I realize that I had just acted idiotically and out of impulse. Not only did I doubt that Luke was anything short of a good kid, but I also doubted Nathan as well. In fact, as well as doubting him, I gave him an unnecessary earful. When I look back into Nathan's eyes, I see that he's still somewhat amused by me, and squeeze my own eyes shut.

"I'm sorry, Nathan," I sigh and open my eyes to see the hint of a smile returning to his lips. "I was just really concerned about Luke. I don't want him getting into anything like that."

Nathan nods in understanding. "I wouldn't want my little brother getting into that shit either."

I nod, but still keep his gaze. "I really am sorry. I shouldn't have just assumed that you had something to do with it, either."

He shrugs. "Everyone else assumes. It's nothing new."

I frown at him because, again, I realize that I was no better than any of the people that believed the stupid rumors about Nathan and his friends. I was no better than anyone else who assumed that just because he had received the title of "bad boy", all of the rumors about him being into illegal things were true.

"Well they shouldn't assume," I say with a sense of finality as his blue eyes pierce through me. "And neither should I. I'm-"

"If you're going to say 'sorry' one more time, then I'm actually going to get mad," Nathan says sternly, but there's a spark of mischief in his eyes that tells me he's joking.

I feel a smile stretch across my lips and hold my hands up in surrender, feeling ten times better now than I did before I got here. It was strange how Nathan had the ability to do that.

"So," Nathan's almost smile turns to a smirk. "How do you know where I live?"

For some reason, his question makes my cheeks warm, considering we were never friends until a few weeks ago, yet I knew how to find his house. Still, I excuse, "I had to pick up a friend from a party at your house before."

Realization dawns on him followed by annoyance. "Ty used to throw parties when he was in high school, that dumbass." The image of his shirtless brother inviting me into his bed enters my mind, and I inwardly shiver. "I'm sorry about him, by the way. He's an idiot."

I can't help but smile at this. "It's alright. I guess idiocy runs in the family."

Nathan narrows his eyes at me, but before he can say anything, the sound of a door opening catches both of our attention. We turn our heads to the front door, where there's a tiny version of Nathan standing in the doorway. The little kid was probably four or five with a mess of brown hair on top of his head and big bright blue eyes.

"Than," The little boy whines. "I'm hungry."

I watch as Nathan steps toward him and crouches down so he's his height. "How about I make you some mac 'n cheese and hot dogs?"

The kids face lights up at this. "Really?"

"Really," Nathan promises, and the way his voice is so much softer than usual makes me smile. "Head inside and I'll be there in a sec, okay Bennett?"

"Okay," The little boy agrees with a toothless grin before he looks up at me. "Who is she?"

Nathan turns around to glance at me as I stand there awkwardly and looks like he doesn't know what to say. I decide to step closer to them and take the liberty of grinning at Bennett and greeting, "Hi, I'm Lauren."

"I'm Bennett," He says proudly. "Are you Than's girlfriend?"

I shake my head and try to will away the red that threatens to stain my cheeks. "No, I'm not. We're just friends."

Bennett frowns. "Are you sure you're not his girlfriend?"

"Bennett," Nathan finally interrupts. "The quicker you go inside, the quicker you get your dinner."

This seemed to get his attention. His eyes got bigger, if that was even possible, and he nodded feverishly before running back inside the house. When Nathan stood up, he didn't look as carefree as he had a minute ago; instead, his expression was masked by a hardened gaze. We looked at each other silently for a minute.

Nathan finally crosses his arms. "You're going home, right?"

The roughness of his voice should offend me, but I'm kind of used to it, so I brush it off. "Uh, yeah. Thanks for, you know, not selling Luke drugs."

His answer comes in the form of a single nod, and then I take that as my cue to leave. I walk back across the street and climb into my car. It's not until I'm driving down the street with the heat blasting that my mind explodes with questions, like what Nathan is doing as the one responsible for cooking an eight year old dinner.

And I had a feeling that, like most of my questions, I would have to find out the answers by myself.

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