Chapter 11 #2
“Oh, I guess I’ll go buy something,” I shrug, even though I already know I don’t have enough money on me to get anything from the cafeteria. But I’m not about to remind Quill that I’m poor.
He studies me for a moment, then pulls out his wallet from his pocket and hands me a fifty.
“Quill, I’m not going to take that,” I protest. “I can pay for myself. I’m not even that hungry, anyway.”
My stomach growls loudly just then, and Quill’s smirk deepens as I grow splotchy red.
“Uh huh. Sure. Don’t just buy dessert, cricket,” he tells me, as I wonder again how he knows so much about me. “A full, healthy lunch, okay?”
Before I can protest again, he kisses me a third time, then heads back out of the school.
I know I should probably not accept the money.
Or at least, not use it. But I’m starving, and this means I don’t have to hurry home, choke down a few bites of whatever I can scrounge up, before rushing back.
Plus, it’s enough money that I have options other than going to the cafeteria and dealing with the stares of every kid eating there.
Because I’m pretty sure that by now, the entire school knows something is going on between Quill and me.
So, huffing out a breath of relief, I leave the building, planning to sit down at the cafe that’s just a few streets away.
I’m so lost in thoughts of Quill as I enter the place that I don’t notice his friends Dane and Liam until the latter shoves into me so hard that I yelp.
“Hey! What the hell?” I snap.
He glares at me, but Dane pushes him out of the cafe before he has time to add insults to the injury.
And it definitely is an injury. I rub my sore shoulder as I head to the counter and order…
well, a slice of chocolate cake. It’s a pretty expensive one too, and it would make me feel weird to use any more of the fifty-dollar bill.
So I pocket the rest, deciding I’ll just pretend I spent the money on a sandwich instead and give the change back to Quill.
I sit down with my cake at a small table.
I’m about to grab my current book from my bag—The Long Goodbye—when I notice a familiar-looking face at the next table.
I’ve never exchanged a word with him, which I guess isn’t unusual with how infrequently people speak to me at Astley High.
But he would definitely be the last guy I would speak to, given his reputation as a drug dealer.
I can’t even handle the idea of swearing; taking drugs is just about the last thing I would ever do.
But Finn Austen was there when I went to Devil Tower with Cass. He knows what kind of experiment they’re running at Devil Tower, and while I hadn’t thought much about it before, Quill’s very intense reaction earlier has reignited all my curiosity.
So, pushing aside my nerves, I grab my plate and walk resolutely to the corner table which he’s occupying, looking decidedly… grey.
I’m very aware of all the Astley High kids staring at me as I do so. I’ll take Astley Cafe over the cafeteria anyday, but it’s still frequented almost exclusively by high school students. At least the food is better, though.
Anyway, after having hard-launched my relationship with Quill this morning, talking to a known drug dealer doesn’t seem that scary. I sit down resolutely in front of Finn Austen. His eyes drift over to me but he doesn’t even blink.
“Hey,” I say, shoveling a forkful of cake into my mouth. “What’s up?”
A very weird opener when I’m not even sure the guy knows of my existence. Oh, well. Too late.
He takes a sip of his black coffee as his eyes focus on me. “You’re Quill’s girl, huh?” he mutters after a beat.
News sure travels fast. I shrug in lieu of an answer.
“He’s lucky,” mumbles Finn. “He’s a lucky guy.”
Somehow, I can tell the luckiness Finn refers to has nothing to do with me. I wait for him to continue, but he merely gulps down more coffee.
“Late night?” I guess, sounding way too much like my dad. Attempting to come off a little cooler, I add hastily, “Did you… uhm… take too many drugs?”
Even worse. I bite down on my tongue, but Finn doesn’t seem amused or annoyed. Or anything, really: just very out of it.
“In a manner of speaking,” he says slowly in answer to my question. “Not by choice.”
“Huh?”
A long sip of coffee is all I get in response.
“Someone drugged you?” I insist, my eyes widening.
But he’s closed up again, his back pressed against the wall of the cafe, his face greyer than ever.
Crap. If I’d been vaguely curious before, I’m now very intrigued. Especially since it occurs to me I haven’t seen him in school these past few days. Not since… Wednesday.
I suddenly realize both he and Cass have been absent on Thursday and Friday. Probably a coincidence. But what if it’s not?
“Is it related to the, uhm, experiment I saw you taking part in at Devil Tower?” I ask, struggling to put two and two together.
He shrugs.
“Did they try out drugs on you? Did you not want them to? That’s like, illegal.
You should go to the police. Put whoever is running that experiment in jail.
” I pause in dishing out my clearly unwanted advice.
My curiosity has suddenly become very self-interested.
“Mr. Campbell should be behind bars. He’s the one who drugged you, I assume? ”
Maybe I made an ass out of myself last Thursday trying to get my revenge, but if Ray’s dad goes to prison… that will just about make my year.
However, just as my thoughts drift off to revenge, I notice the vicious expression that’s taken hold of Finn.
He grabs the collar of my shirt, pulling me to him, and hisses, “No. Campbell didn’t drug me.
Cass Henley did. Cass Henley destroyed my life.
She’s a fucking psychopath. And you’re going to fucking tell her something.
You’re going to fucking tell her that if I ever fucking see her again, she’s dead.
She’s motherfucking dead. Do you hear me? ”
He doesn’t wait for confirmation, instead heading out of the cafe and slamming the door behind him, leaving me reeling from his sudden outburst.