Page 57 of 12 Months of Mayhem

“I’ll be sure to do so the next time I see her.” I nod.

“Be sure to do just that,” Mercy says, losing the smile. “My dad asked you to check on her, didn’t he?”

“You got a problem if that’s what he asked me to do?”

“Nope.” Mercy gets this assessing look in her eyes. “Just make sure she’s okay, something’s going on at her school and she’s not talking about it.”

“You know what it is?” Hazzard asks.

“No,” she sighs. “Trust me when I say, Kayla and I have asked her. More than once. She’s worked her ass off and is struggling. One thing I do know is someone is fucking with her. Last night she kept looking at her phone and nearly looked ready to burst into tears.”

“Right,” I tell her and look to my brother. “I’m heading out soon as I grab my bag. You grab Rimfire.”

“Meet you at the bikes,” Hazzard mutters.

Nodding I make my way to the room I stayed in, grab my bag, and head for my bike.

With what both Twister and Mercy said, seems April needs someone to have her back, even if she doesn’t want it. Reading between the lines of what Twister said, I’m gonna be the man who does just that.

Chapter Seven

April

Rain.

It’s the bane of my existence.

Staring out the doors of my apartment, I want to scream. It’s not that I don’t actually like rain, but I despise it when I have to walk in it. I could drive, but what’s the point when I’m only going to the library and it’s a five-minute walk.

It’d started raining last night right after I got home. I’d stopped in town long enough to get a few groceries I knew I was gonna need. More coffee. Lunch meat. Bread. Some flavor packets for water. And a lasagna. I’d been craving pasta, and I didn’t want to order from in town. Frozen was fine with me.

Sighing, I step back and close the door to my apartment. I grab my rain jacket and pull it on. It’s light enough that I won’t burn up in it, but it’ll keep the rain off me just as well. It was a little warm out, enough I had on a t-shirt with my ripped jeans. Thanks to the rain though, I put on a pair of my Chucks rather than flip-flops.

Once I have myself ready to go, I snatch up my bag and make my way out of the apartment and into the rain. I keep my head down, not only to keep the rain out of my face, but also to keep anyone from noticing me. Several people I know, who are friends of Samuel’s, are still here. I just want to get to the library without issue.

Thankfully I’m able to do just that.

The library is open 24/7 for students and there’s usually someone always around. Now though, with so many still gone and doing spring break stuff, it’s completely empty. Somewhat freaky with no one here.

It’s okay though, I find myself a spot, drop my stuff, remove my jacket and get to it. I can do this. I just need to focus. Get my schoolwork done and soon I’ll be graduating. I won’t have to be here anymore. I won’t have to deal with any more tormenting. I won’t have to debate about running away or dropping out. I’m determined I won’t let anyone get in my way, but it’s not been easy. The next few months won’t be either.

After spending several hours in the library, I’ve made progress and am happy with what I’ve done so far. Gathering my stuff up, I make my way outside into the cloudy, yet now dry, afternoon.

Instead of going straight home, I head toward the coffee place on the corner. It’s a locally owned business and way better than any franchise. Don’t get me wrong, I love a good pumpkin spice latte from Starbucks, but this place, well it’s got better everything. The barista who works here, she’s a master in getting the flavors just right.

Once I have my coffee and head back out, I feel like I’ve got a small pep in my step. Weird as it sounds, I’m feeling good. I’ve made a significant dent in my assignment. I’ll be able to finish it before everyone else is back and we are back in class. I simply feel lighter in general. That’s what Margo’s coffee does to a person.

I nearly have the entire cup finished by the time I get home and nearly lose my footing when I see who’s sitting on the step of my apartment building.

The building itself is an older house remodeled into four apartments, all with their own entrance. There’s even a walkway to go to the back for those who live on the second level to be able to go in through their own entrances.

Sitting on the steps to mine though is someone I never expected to see again.

Fool.

I make my way the rest of the way toward my place, his eyes watching me as I do so. When I get close enough, he stands to his full height.

“What are you doing here?” I manage to ask without sounding breathless.

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