2
Before I knew it, police were swarmed around me and my co-workers, demanding things and asking questions. I could barely understand what was going on, the only thing I could keep my mind one was Lana. No one had seen her come; no one had seen her go.
“Name, please?” an officer asks me. He’s big and burly, more intimadting if I knew who I am talking to.
“Isabella Marie.” I reply numbly. Lana is my best friend and only confidant. She was the innocent one of us seven, always ready to offer a new dance move or advice.
“Last name?” he asks, writing something down on a notepad. I shrug.
“I don’t know my last name.” I say, “my mother never told me.” It’s true. My last name is on my birth certificate, but my mother never told me. It’s my fathers last name, and my mother never wants anything to do with him, except for his infrequent child support cheques.
“All right, so,” I have obviously thrown the officer off. I can see he’s brimming with questions he won’t ask, “how old are you?”
“Seventeen.” I reply, unfazed. I’m used to being questioned by the police. One time my mother got so drunk she decided to drive, getting into a minor accident.
“So, what are you doing here?” he asks me.
“I work here.” I reply again. He’s really boring me.
“Can I go? My curfew is one am.” I ask. It’s not like my mother cares about my curfew. Usually, I get home and she’s passed out in a drunken stupor on the lazy-boy.
“Alright, I guess. Just make sure to stay in the state.” The officer said nervously.
“Of course, Officer.” I say, and slide off the stage. My whole body is shaking as I grab my bag and leave the club.
High school in itself is torture. The only reason why I go is to get away from my mother, and her non-existent sobriety. I walk into my math class, sling my bag in the floor, and sit down, ready to do nothing.
“Hey.” His voice is simple, slightly innocent. I turn around to see Jacob King staring at me with dark green eyes. He sits next to me, dropping his bag on the ground.
“Hey,” I say blandly. He pulls out his homework, and mused over it.
“Did you do this?” he asks me, “because I didn’t.” I clucked my tounge.
“Well, Mr. King,” I say with an almost flirty tone, “It’ll be, like, the ninth time this month? What do you do at night?” Jacob shrugs.
“Same as you. I stay awake and play HALO.” He says with a small smile. I giggle, and look at the front of the class.
“Trust me,” I say, “you have no idea what I do at night.” Jacob turns to me.
“Maybe I can find out sometime.” He said innocently. I giggle again.
“Seriously, sweetie, you don’t want to know.” I say as the teacher strides into the classroom, putting an end to our conversation.
I slam my book shut as the bell rings. Jacob and I both stand up and reach for our bags at the same time. Our hands brush, sending a pleasant shiver up my arm. I send him the sexy little smirk I use while dancing, sling my bag over my shoulder, and exit the classroom, a little swish to my hips.
“Hey, Isabella, wait.” Jacob calls from behind me. I stop at my locker, and begin to twirl the dial.
“Yes,” I say, dropping my bag. I turn so my back is against my locker. He puts his hands on either side of me, making it impossible for it for me move. Then he lowered his head and kissed me.
His lips are warm and sweet, sort of tasting like starburst and mountain dew. I shut my eyes, letting out a little moan of ecstasy.
Then he pulled away, almost making my heart stop.
“That was fun.” I say, trying to make it seem I could hardly care less. Jacob smiles.
“Oh, you liked it.” He replies. I wink, and shimmy out of his hold.
“Maybe,” I say, turning back to my locker. I begin to twirl the dial, my heart racing. I turn and watch as he strides away, a foolish grin spreading on my face.
keep it up!
