AIM [FIRST DRAFT]

Chapter 6: Stefan Doesn't Say Enough

Aimee and Emma split up. Emma headed to the taps for a drink of water, while Aimee walked to her locker. She tossed her bag in and grabbed her lunchbox. Shortly after she shut her locker door, she caught sight of Emma and Stefan in the distance. It seemed as though Stefan was telling a joke. He and Emma both broke into laughter, as Aimee approached them.

"Hey, Aim! Stefan is so funny," exclaimed Emma. "He was just telling me about the skeleton that didn't go to prom!"

One of the oldest jokes in the book, but Aimee made no remark and just smiled.

"Hey, Aimee," Stefan smiled back.

"You promised me some of your lunch," remarked Emma, as she pointed to Aimee's lunchbox.

"Promised?" Aimee joked.

She froze for a moment, immediately reminded of what Stefan had promised her on Saturday: that he would explain everything to her at school. Her mind returned to her body when she politely asked Emma to allow her to speak with Stefan in private, but save them a seat in the cafeteria.

"Alright, but I still want some of that lunch, missy," smirked Emma. She slowly walked away and into the school cafeteria.

Aimee turned her attention back to Stefan, "You told me you'd explain everything from Saturday."

"You remember," he stammered. "I was hoping you'd forget."

"Well, I didn't," she affirmed, "so start explaining."

"I can't," he clarified.

"What?!" her voice raised without causing a scene.

"I... Some people say things they don't really mean - unintentionally," he shrugged.

Aimee was fervent, "It's not every day that a girl is taken, against her will, to a nonsensical institute, questioned, and then refused answers when asking her own!"

Stefan was speechless, which only angered her more. She pushed past him and off towards the cafeteria. Stefan's eyes hit the ground. The secrecy made him cringe with guilt, but Buckley had warned him not to say a word until 'it was time'. He wondered when that would be, as he stepped off in the opposite direction.

Stefan and Aimee had not spoken for the rest of the school day. The clock struck 14:00 as the school bell rang, and Emma and Aimee walked out of their Trigonometry class. Down the hall, Stefan's History class had ended and he was returning his books to his locker when Emma and Aimee strode passed, but did not notice him. The two swanned to the school's parking lot and waited for the Lincolns, and soon enough, they saw the Mercedes in the distance. They hugged each other goodbye before Emma climbed into the car, and her father hooted as they disappeared on the horizon.

Aimee reached for her cellphone and checked the time. It was 14:11, Clifford was late. She dialled his number, but his phone was off, as usual. Clifford usually dropped Molly off at her workplace and then went to his, but he would always be home before 13:30. He worked the morning-afternoon shift at the retail store, while Molly spent the day selling cakes at the bakery - the only tasty thing she could prepare was cake. Aimee tried phoning her then. Fortunately, Molly picked up.

"Hi, Aimee," she answered. "How was your day at school?"

"Fine, thanks," Aimee replied. "Molly, have you heard from Clifford?"

She could hear the bustling customers at the bakery in the background.

"No, come to think of it, I haven't," she confirmed. "But wait there, I'm sure he's on his way."

"Alright then, bye," Aimee ended the call.

She slid her phone back into her pocket and turned her attention to the passing cars. Stefan was standing at his motorbike as his ears overheard Aimee's conversation, and chivalrously, he offered to take her home, if she was keen.

"What are your intentions?" she joked. She could not stay mad at him, and wondered whether or not that was a good thing.

"I'll take you straight home. Promise," he assured her.

Aimee gave it a moment's thought, before disregarding Molly's instructions - like she normally did - and hopping onto his motorbike. She had never been on a motorbike before, and the movies always made it seem so cool. She just hoped he knew how to ride the thing.

"Hold on tight," he told her, as he revved the engine.

Aimee grasped readily to Stefan's waist, and they were in motion sooner than anticipated.