Page 38 of Abyss

“Fuck,” Nathan groans, squeezing his eyes shut while his face goes ashen.

I reach for his elbow, trying to pull him along, while random students avoid running into us on the stairs. “Let’s just get inside. They’re not going to do anything with teachers around.”

Nathan tugs his arm from my grasp, a defeated expression settled over his features. “It’s fine, Kav. The deadline was yesterday. Gotta face the music someday.”

I place my fists on my hips. “Then let me talk to them. Let me explain the situation—”

“No!” His expression hardens. “I don’t want you getting involved. I got myself into this. If I have to beg and plead to get myself out, I will.” He runs a hand over his face. “It’s not like telling them my asshole dad is in jail will win me anysympathy points. I told you what they said when I took the loan.‘Overdue debts have—’”

“‘A darkness clause,’” I repeat along with him. “What does that mean, though? What kind of darkness clause?”

He shrugs as heavy footsteps sound behind us, making the little hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. “I guess I’ll find out.”

A large hand lands on Nathan’s shoulder, and we both turn to face Vance and his crew of heathens. He flashes his teeth at me, reminding me of the shark fromJaws,before addressing Nathan, “There’s my boy! How’s it going, Nate? I was looking all over for you yesterday. Looks like you snuck out on me a little early after last period, though, huh?” His fingers tighten over Nathan’s thin shoulder, making him wince. “No worries, though. I’m here now. Ready to settle up? I take cash or . . .” he smirks at his friends, “cash.”

The two girls in the circle, Josephine and Paulina, look me up and down, lingering on the hole in my white polo uniform shirt, before giggling. No doubt they’re sending silent signals to each other.

My anger flares and I grasp Vance’s forearm. “Why don’t you get your hand off him, you worthless scum?”

He makes an exaggerated frown, his midnight hair contrasting with his pale skin. “Aww. That’s sweet.” He looks at Nathan, squeezing his shoulder tighter. “Isn’t it, Nate? She might look like the filth my cat dragged in last night, but at least you have someone who cares about your measly life.” He steps closer to me, grasping a strand of my hair and curling it around his index finger. “I’m sure she wouldn’t look as hideous after a shower and clothes that didn’t come from the literal garbage.”

“She could stand to lose thebaby fatthat’s stuck around for ten years too long, too,” Josephine adds, making everyone but Nathan and I giggle.

I slap Vance’s hand off me. “You’re an asshole.” I glare at the rest of them. “You all are.”

They chuckle, fist-bumping each other, before Vance’s face goes blank, bringing a chill to the late September air. “It’s called business, sweetheart.” His eyes drop to my old, battered sneakers. “Something you wouldn’t understand. I gave him a loan to bail his junkie father out of the sitch a month ago. He was well-fucking-aware when he came to me that he’d need to pay me back byyesterday,with interest, or follow the darkness clause.”

My eyes narrow on Vance’s black ones—fucking black like the pits of hell. “And what is this so-called darkness clause?”

Vance puts his hands into the pockets of his uniform khakis before lifting his shoulders nonchalantly. “Whatever we decide. Think of it as . . .” he snaps his fingers, looking around as if actually trying to grasp a word from the air, “a dare.”

My heart races inside my chest, watching Nathan fidget. How could he put himself in this position? How could he take money from the one guy everyone at our whole fucking school knows not to get involved with?

I get that he felt desperate and had no one else to turn to—no one else who had the means to get his dad out of the thousands of dollars he owed to his fucking coke dealer—but to shake hands with a lowlife like Vance? What was he thinking?

Did he learn nothing from what happened to Chris Padilla last year?

Chris was in a bind and needed money for God knows what. Rumors were rampant; some said it was to settle his mom’s hospital bills, others said he was trying to get his mom out of a bad situation with his stepdad. Regardless of the real story, he sought help from the school’s richest and most conniving loan shark, Vance.

Two months later, his body was found in one of Sarasota’s campgrounds.

What I don’t understand in Chris’ situation is why he didn’t ask his rich girlfriend at the time for the money. In a school where practically everyone is the spawn of a Silicon Valley elite, the exceptions being a handful like Chris, Nathan, and myself—theluckyfew admitted through some social charity quota—with pockets deeper than Santa’s gift sack, why not ask someone else?Literally anyone else!

I knew that wasn’t an option for Nathan, given that his social standing was possibly worse than mine. Still, I swear I want to slap my best friend right now.

My best fucking friend, who is not only the kindest-hearted kid I’ve ever known, but my ride-or-die in every situation since the first day of kindergarten when we argued about which of Dr. Seuss' books was the best, only to agree that it wasOh, The Places You’ll Go!after a healthy ten-minute debate involving tears and some amateur name-calling.

The compassionate, albeit anxious, kid who lent me a hand while everyone else laughed when I fell after getting hit with a tetherball.

The fun-loving kid who’d go trick-or-treating with me, year after year, and who’d bring his sister along to spend Christmases at my house because both his parents were passed out drunk or stoned on their couch.

I want to slap the living daylights out of him at this very moment for being reckless enough to ask Vance for even a dollar.

If he had told me even a week ago, we could have figured something out. Maybe I could have asked Dad for a loan, not that he has much to spare, but I know he would have done whatever he could. Maybe I could have asked Alisha—the only girl in our school who continues to be my friend, despite being in the rich kids’ crew. Maybe I could have started a GoFund Me or something, I don’t know.Anythingwould have been better than this.

But he literally told me last night when I asked him why he snuck out of AP English early. After telling him I wanted to murder him for being so stupid, we both sat with our heads in our hands in my room, trying to figure out what to do next.

My dad was out of town for work, and Alisha never picked up her phone. Even if we’d gotten a hold of them, I knew it wouldn’t be as simple as just asking for five grand. The money was nothing to sneeze at, and they’d ask questions—questions that could get everyone into more trouble.

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