Part 16
"How are we going to find the button? And what will you tell Dash if or when he asks for it?" Tracey whispered as we sat in Math class trying to solve problems that had no right to be in my life right now. I normally enjoyed Math or any other subject for that matter, but today, I just couldn't deal with anymore problems, especially those that required me to find the answer. I already had a killer to find and now my teacher expected me to find the value of x. The world needed to learn to solve its own problems.
You are the one who took on this job of finding the killer; nobody asked you to.
Alright, my annoying inner voice had a point. But in my defence, I was curious and wanted a peaceful academic year. And as long as this killer was on the loose, there would be no peaceful academic year for me.
"Well?" Tracey asked when I did not reply. It had been two days since our button search in our dorm room, and so far I had no idea what I would tell Dash if he asked me about the button or where the stupid thing went.
"I don't know," I whispered, irritated at myself and this stupid problem in front of me. I did not care about x or y, I just wanted to find the button, give it to Dash and find the killer as soon as possible.
"You've been avoiding Dash since two days. If you keep this up, he is going to get suspicious if he isn't already," she stated, causing me to roll my eyes. Yes, I had been avoiding Dash since the last two days. I just couldn't face him knowing that I had lost our only clue. He would kill me, I was sure it.
"Yeah, well I have no choice. If he finds out I lost the button he will tell his personal chef to prepare me on a silver platter so he could eat me," I hissed, making sure to keep my voice low so as not to draw the attention of the teacher.
"That is not going to happen. If you stop looking so guilty, Dash will never find out," my best friend replied, scribbling the answer on her worksheet.
"He will find out. He is very smart," I argued, cursing the numbers and letters scattered over my worksheet. Right now, I wanted to tear the piece of paper into a hundred pieces and chuck it into a trashcan.
"Oh please." Tracey scoffed. "You give him too much credit. He is not as smart as you think."
"You don't know him like I do," I countered, then mentally slapped myself. I didn't know Dash from Adam. I'd only just met him.
"That is not true!" I was pretty sure the teacher was deaf if she did not just hear Tracey. "He is not even in class and he is a rich, spoiled guy."
"Being rich doesn't mean you're stupid," I reasoned.
Just then the classroom door opened and in walked Dash who strode inside as if he owned the place, and expected people to bow down to him as if he were some kind of a god.
His eyes immediately found mine and I bit my lip before looking away. Maybe he would think I was shy. No, that was stupid. The probability of Dash thinking I was shy was equivalent to that of the sun rising from the west.
"Mr. Melwin," the teacher began. "Please try to be on time. This school does not accept tardiness." She scolded.
Dash rolled his eyes. He actually rolled his eyes. Why couldn't he respect the teachers for once? It wouldn't kill him. Why did he have to show the whole world just how rich and spoilt he was?
You lost the button. I think you have more important things to worry about than Dash's attitude with the teachers.
My inner voice needed a slap in the face. As soon as this class would end, I would make a run for it. I would go to Damien because he was currently lying in the school's infirmary thanks to my boyfriend and Ben. It was awful, what they did to him. And I was going to take my revenge on Dash for hurting my friend like that. However, Damien was getting better. The nurse told me that Damien would make a full recovery within a few days.
I could feel Dash's eyes on me as he walked over to the desk behind me. My heartbeat was getting faster and faster with every footstep of his. And when he sat down, it felt like I was standing right below a double-edged sword. Guilt and anxiety intertwined, creating a sinister blend, slowing seeping in my bloodstreams, poisoning me.
"Would you relax. He doesn't know, but he will know if you keep behaving, like this," Tracey admonished, elbowing me from the side.
"I can't help it. He will kill me," I hissed.
"How would he kill you when he doesn't even know you lost the button?" My best friend was getting annoyed, but I couldn't blame her—I was annoying was I was worried or nervous about something.
"Because he is Dash and he knows all the things he is not suppose to," I whispered. It was official, the teacher was not paying attention to the class.
"That is true. But, no one is going to tell him that you lost the button; not me and not you—although with the way you're acting, that might not be the case and he will end up finding out." Tracey glared at me.
"I don't want to be the one to tell him." I was having a strong urge to bite my nails, but that was not healthy. I still wanted to bite my nails.
"Then stop acting like you've just committed a murder and act like nothing happened. If Dash asks you about the button, then act dumb—"
"Hey! I am not dumb!" I protested.
Tracey rolled her eyes. "I mean, act like you don't know anything about the button and pretend to be shocked."
"Okay, yes, I can do that. I think," I muttered the last part to myself, trying to pretend that my crazy boyfriend was not sitting behind me. Which was harder than it seemed because I could feel his eyes as if they were physical human beings sitting on my shoulders.
I cursed as I heard a soft thump, which was the sound of my backpack falling on the floor. I had slid the straps over the corner of my chair, but now it had fallen. I picked up my bag and turned around to slide the straps back on my chair, which had me locking eyes with my boyfriend.
"Hello, chocolate chip. I didn't see you at breakfast today, where were you?" Dash asked, not bothering to keep his voice low. Perhaps I should smack him in order to make him respect teachers. Maybe, all Dash needed was a little brain damage.
You are a terrible person for wishing ill on your boyfriend!
I had decided a long time ago not to listen to my inner voice. Instead, I focused on the task at hand; which was answering my boyfriend.
"I wasn't very hungry, so I decided to skip breakfast and come straight to class," I fibbed.
"And what about yesterday? I didn't see you at dinner," he continued.
"I had an early dinner because I had a lot of studying to do and I had to read Janice's journal." Wow, I was good at this lying thing. If the rest of my academic career continued the way it was going now, then I had no hope of getting into a decent college or let alone get a decent job in the future. But if I was a good liar, then I could get a job as a con artist.
"Oh really? Did you find anything useful? The cops are interviewing students. What are you going to tell them when your turn will come?" He questioned.
I pursed my lips, contemplating about the possible answers I would give to the cops. I could not tell them that I stole Janice's journal and suspected Lauren as the killer. Because if I did that then the cops would accuse me of tampering with evidence—which I got to know after my research in the library while I was hiding from Dash during lunch. However, if I did not tell them what I knew then I would be obstructing justice, and that was an offence I had no intention of paying the penalty for.
"I don't know yet. I guess it will depend on the questions," I replied after a few seconds.
"Okay, but make sure not to tell them about the button. The cops will tattle on us and I don't want the Headmaster on my head right now," Dash said.
"Don't worry, I won't tell. I know the button is important." Important and lost! I just couldn't stop thinking about it. It was a wonder how I'd managed to keep my voice even. On the inside, my heart jumping on a trampoline, ready to fly out of my mouth.
With a smile, I turned back around and breathed a sigh of relief. Just as I tried to put my focus back on my Math problems, I heard the unmistakable sound of my bag dropping once more. With a sigh—this time of annoyance—I turned around to pick up my bag. It was only when I was about to slip the straps back on did I notice Dash smirking.
"Did you drop my bag?" I asked, my tone accusatory.
He chuckled while nodding. "Yes!"
"Well don't do it. It's annoying." I told him before turning around to finish my work. After a few seconds, I heard my bag drop once again. Groaning mentally, I turned around to pick it ip, glaring at my boyfriend. "Stop doing that. I don't like it."
"Okay, I won't do it." His eyes told me he had no intention of stopping with this irritating behavior, but some stupid part of me—the stupid part that said yes to being his girlfriend—had me believing his word.
The fourth time my bag dropped, I imagined throttling my boyfriend. Turning around, I fixed his mischevious face with a deathly glare.
"What is your problem?" I hissed. "Stop playing with my bag."
"Nope," Dash replied, leaning back in his chair before crossing his arms in front of his chest. He looked hot, but I was too annoyed to drool over him in my head.
"Why?" Why was the teacher even here when she couldn't even notice this jerk disrupting the peace of the classroom? There was something wrong with this teacher. I would write this when I would evalute her at the end of the year.
"Because you are not sitting next to me." That was a very stupid answer.
"This is a very stupid answer." I voiced out my thoughts.
"No, it isn't. I haven't spent any time with you in these past couple of days. And now, I come in here and you haven't saved a seat for me. You haven't been saving seats for me, which I don't like. Why is that, shorty?" Dash enquired.
"How should I know? I don't know about your issues with people reserving seats for you," I snapped. If I didn't finish the worksheet by the end of this classroom, my teacher was going to give me detention.
"Not that. I only have issues with you not reserving seats for me. Why don't you do that? I am your boyfriend. You are suppose to stick to me like glue," he responded.
"Normal guys don't like it when their girlfriends stick to them like glue. They call them jealous and insecure," I argued. My boyfriend had weird demands.
"I am not a normal guy." He shrugged.
I rolled my eyes. "I think we established that fact a long time ago. There is nothing about you that falls in the spectrum of normal."
"Which is a good thing for you. Every girl wants a boyfriend who is different and unique," Dash threw at me.
"Uh, I hate to cut in between you two love birds, but, Bri, you have to finish your work—"
"What is going on here?!" The teacher exclaimed. Great, now she noticed us. Fantastic. It was only when I'm not paying attention did she notice that we are talking to each other.
"Uh nothing really, Mrs—"
"Ms. Goldman, why are you disturbing the class?" She asked, her eyebrow arched.
"I'm not. Dash here was bothering me." I told her, not sure why she wasn't accusing my boyfriend of disturbing the class.
"You have been talking constantly since class started, and don't think I didn't notice because I did," she said, her voice sharp.
"I'm sorry. I will not do it again," I apologized, cursing my boyfriend for getting me in trouble. Now I really wouldn't talk to Dash; he was a bad influence. I should go back to avoiding him like I had originally planned.
"You can apologize to me on Saturday when you come for detention," she stated, causing my eyes to widen and jaw to drop. Detention? How could she give me detention? I never gotten detention in my life.
Curse you, Dash. I will destroy you for this.
"What? Why?" I could not comprehend this. Why was she doing this to me?
"Because I will not tolerate disturbance in my class."
"But Mrs—" I started to plead with her when the classroom door opened and marched in two police officers. The expression on their chubby faces was grim yet purposeful. In just three seconds all eyes were focused on the officers clad in uniform.
"Sierra Hutchins?" The officer on the left called out, his beady eyes scanning the room.
Slowly, a girl from the second last row stood up, confusion painted on her chubby face. She was cute with freckled cheeks and brown eyes.
"Are you Sierra Hutchins?" The officer who called out her name asked.
"Yes?" Sierra wasn't the only one who was confused, it was the entire classroom.
"Sierra Hutchins, you are under arrest for the murder of Janice Walter."
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Author's Note.
Hi guys,
Here is another update, I hope you all like it.
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