Shoooort update, hope you like it. The drama is just beginning ;) What are your theories? x
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I got to school on time, and the entire day flew by, and not one person commented on my clothing. Apart from Scottie, who knew my wardrobe like the back of his hand and immediately realized the similarities between Harry's everyday clothes and my temporary clothes. I knew I had to go home after school, and honestly? I was dreading it. I was scared that for some reason, my mom hasn't left yet, even though I'm sure she has. I mean, she has to return to her job at some point. She's not going to miss it just for me.
I was currently at my locker after yearbook, my last hour of the day. I opened it and a piece of paper flew out and landed by my feet.
I furrowed my eyebrows at it, bending down to pick it up. It was folded so I unfolded it and my eyes skimmed the writing.
"I know your secret" was written in blue pen. I looked around the hallway, to see if anybody looked suspicious or like they just put this in my locker and are now waiting for my reaction, but I didn't notice anybody even glancing in my direction.
I looked around my locker for maybe a hint as to who left it, but it looked exactly the same as I left it. Well, of course it would, it's not like they broke into my locker, they just slipped it through the slits in it.
What secret would they be talking about? Harry? I mean, that's the only secret that I have. But nobody could possibly know about that, I mean we haven't exactly been that careful, but we haven't been reckless either? Have we?
The only time they could have seen us was at my party, but that was weeks ago, wouldn't they have said something then? Why wait until now?
I walked to my car and noticed a note under the windshield wiper. At first I thought it was a parking ticket, but on further inspection it was another note. What the fuck is this, a scavenger hunt?
This one read, "How would the principal feel if he had proof that Mr. Styles was messing around with a student?"
My eyes widened and I felt like I couldn't breathe. They did know. How could they know? Are they going to tell the principal? They can't tell him, Harry could lose his job. All because of me. I can't let him do that for me. Who would write this note? Cassidy? I mean, she was the one who told the principal in the first place. I rolled my eyes, annoyed, shoving the papers in my back pocket and walking back into the school.
She always stays an extra half hour in the library to do her homework because she has to wait for her little brother to get out of school at 3:30 anyways. I determinedly walked to the library and practically slammed the door open.
I looked around and saw her sitting there innocently, with a book open as she wrote stuff down in a notebook.
I grabbed the book and closed it before slamming it back down on the table in front of her. Oh, I know it was her. She can wipe that damn innocent look off of her face.
She looked up at me with wide eyes before saying, "Miranda?" Oh she's good.
"Don't act all innocent, I know you went to the principal about Mr. Styles and our "relationship"," I practically spat at her, putting air quotations around relationship for evidence.
"We're not even in a relationship, all Scottie and I have done was talk about him during lunch and you had to run and tell on us. And now you're leaving me notes? What kind of person are you?" I wasn't done yet, but she interrupted me.
"Miranda, what are you talking about? I haven't told the principal anything!" She yelled. It was then, that I realized that we were in the library, where we were supposed to be whispering. Luckily, the librarian was in the back room doing who knows what.
I dragged Cassidy back out into the hall.
"Why would you do this to me? I thought that we were friends? That I could trust you?" I lowered my voice. I suddenly realized how upset I was that Cassidy betrayed me.
"We are friends! I honestly have no idea what you're talking about right now?" She said, and from her expression, it looked like she really didn't. But she wanted to be a drama teacher, so I knew better.
"Okay, so you don't remember going to the principal's office the other day and telling him on Mr. Style's and I? You do realize this is serious, right? Mr. Style's could lose his job over something like this, and we're not even dating," I stopped talking when she grabbed my arm.
"Miranda, do you really think I'd do that?" She said, almost sadly.
I shrugged, "I don't really know what you'd do. Turns out, I barely know you," I stated, shrugging her off and crossing my arms.
"I would never do that, you have to believe me. No wonder you've avoided me for the past few days, I was so confused. But trust me, that had nothing to do with you and Mr. Styles! It was about my graduation, because I failed Chemistry last year and now I have to make it up online, so we were just setting that up. I promise I would never ever tell a soul about you and Mr. Styles, even if you were dating," I looked at her and she genuinely looked like she was telling the truth. But this is what she does. She pretends.
I just stared at her then, not saying anything, because I didn't know what to say. Could I really trust her?
"Please, Miranda, please believe me," she practically begged and I turned away. Not because I didn't want to look at her, but because I was trying to think and seeing the sad look on her face made it harder to remember why I was mad at her in the first place.
"I have proof! Come on," she said, gesturing me down the hallway. I assumed we were going to her locker.
Sure enough, she turned toward her locker and began opening it. Once the combination worked, she dug through folders and pulled out a piece of paper.
"Here," she said. It was a documentation of her transcript, and Chemistry was circled in red ink.
She pointed to the date in the top right corner, that said October 1st, as well as the time it was printed out at. 7:34 am. 1st hour started at 7:30 and she didn't get there until like 7:45. Which means she was with the principal for about 10 minutes, if she's telling the truth. Does it really take 10 minutes to talk about her credits and set up an online class for it? Or did she spend some time talking to him about us? But she also needs to walk to and from the office to Mr. Style's classroom, which isn't exactly the smallest distance.
"Miranda, that's the only reason I was in there, I promise. I didn't say a word about you or Mr. Styles. Why would I? You guys aren't even doing anything," she said, beginning to sound desperate.
"Okay," I sighed, not knowing what else to say.
"You believe me?" She grinned and I nodded my head, starting to smile as well.
"Thank you!" Cassidy exclaimed, pulling me into a hug. I hugged her back.
When she pulled away, she looked at me in concern.
"Who would know about you and Mr. Styles though? And why would they tell?" She questioned and I shrugged. Just because I believe she didn't tell the principal, it doesn't mean I trusted her.
"There's nothing to know about us. He's been helping me with Calculus more, so I don't know if people are getting the wrong idea or what, but somebody told the principal that we were having 'personal relations', and he threatened his job. I don't want him to lose his job over a dumb rumor," I explained, hoping I convinced her that we aren't really together.
I decided to bring up the notes so I could see her reaction.
"I also got notes today," I said, digging them out of my pocket and handing them to her. She unfolded them and read them quietly to herself. Her eyebrows furrowed as she read them, and I began to truly believe she had nothing to do with it. Even an actress couldn't pull this off.
"Secret? That Mr. Style's is messing around with a student? Do they think that student is you?" She questioned, rereading the notes.
"Apparently, I don't know. I have no idea what 'proof' they'd have anyways, unless it's of us studying. So I'm not worried about it, I just don't want Mr. Style's to end up losing his job over this, it's ridiculous and I'd feel so guilty," I sighed.
"No, I get it," she replied sympathetically. She looked back down at the note. "I don't recognize the handwriting," she said, and I leaned over to look at it. I didn't either.
I furrowed my eyebrows and groaned, rubbing my forehead with my hand, "I don't know what to do."
She grabbed my shoulder gently, "You don't have to do anything. You didn't do anything wrong, so I wouldn't worry about it."
I smiled at her, even though I did do things that were wrong. And there are plenty different proofs that could be given to the principal that could get Harry fired, and possibly me expelled.
"Thank you," I said, meaning it. "Sorry for blaming you for this, I just don't know who else it could be."
"It's okay, you better not ignore me like that again, you bitch," she joked and I laughed.
"I won't," I reassured her, hugging her once again. I truly did feel bad for blaming her at first. I'm fairly certain now that she had nothing to do with any of this.
"I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" She said, beginning to walk off and I nodded while waving.
I began walking back to my car, determined to call Harry and ask him to meet up with me in order to discuss all of this with him. I got my phone out of my pocket and began to look for his contact name. I was looking for 'Harry' under the H's, and nearly passed his name since it said 'Hottie Tamale' rather than Harry.
I made it to my car and decided not to call him until I was in there, but something stopped me.
Another note, on my car. That means whoever this was is still at the school, and put the note there after I went back inside. They must be watching me.
I looked around for any lingering students or cars, but when I saw the lot was empty, except for a few cars near the front that were clearly empty, I grabbed the note and hurriedly went inside my car, immediately locking the doors.
I unfolded the note to see the same handwriting in blue ink. I shuddered to myself before reading the words.
"Do as I say and there won't be any problems. Step one, don't tell Mr. Styles about these notes."
I contemplated just ignoring the note and telling Harry anyways, but if they're really watching me, then they'll know that I told him. And they have proof that they can give to the principal at any time. I can't risk his job like that. But who else could help me figure this big mess out?
Scottie, that's who.
I started dialing Scottie's number, knowing it by heart, and put the phone up to my ear as I pulled out of the parking lot.
He picked up after three rings and I immediately said, "Scottie, I'm on my way over right now."
He simply sighed and replied, "Okay," before hanging up and I made my way to his house.