Run Bad Boy Run

Chapter 23

Have you ever had that moment in class when everything is quiet and then boom! Your stomach makes a sound that resembles a zombie coming out of the grave?

Well mine did that today way too much in Biology class. It was to the point where the teacher had to give me some crackers to calm down the moans. Even then, a picture of an apple tree in my textbook had my mouth practically overflowing.

And I don't even like apples.

Well, when they're not in pie form.

I should be embarrassed by my excessive hunger—Hayden's loud snickering sure didn't help— but with the amount of crap that has happened in that class (exploding pens, anyone?), I wasn't and I'm over the moon when the bell finally rings.

I'm out of the classroom fast enough to beat the initial surge of people and my hunger propels me down the halls and outside to the school parking lot lightning fast. Our mother decided to pack Corry and I lunch for today as some sort of apology for what happened at the bar the other night and I forgot it in my car. She claimed to have barely remembered it, but I overheard her talking to one of her friends on the phone about the bunch of cute men she met at Bar 45. She said that one of them gave her his number and she hoped to see him again. It took all of my self-control not to barge in there, grab her phone, and throw it out the window.

I am not letting my mom get involved in this. I'm not letting myself get involved. If anything happened to her—I don't even want to think about it.

All I know is the second Stacie Chance is away from her phone, that number is gone.

A cool autumn air stirs leaves gently across the parking lot. It's still hot outside and I barely see any hint of a color change in the trees, but there's a cool touch beneath the wind that tells me we don't have long until the world is painted in golden flames. There's no one on the football field today, which is strange considering Coach Foster loves to implement is torture there.

I should be okay with that. But I'm not.

I don't know if it's my paranoia, or the fact that this week has surprisingly been a good one, but looking out into the sea of cars, my stomach clenches.

Today he's nowhere to be seen.

I hurry to where my car sat at the very end of the large stretch of concrete.

And to make things worse, the chill of being watched begins to trickle down my spine with every passing second. I tell myself it's probably Hayden being an asshole but I saw him walk in the other direction with Principal Miller right as the bell rang. I heard him mention something about Hayden meeting with his parole officer for lunch today.

You're just being over cautious, I try to tell myself. So what if it's Hayden? Who cares?

Unlocking my car, I quickly climb into the passenger seat and as I'm digging around to find the little brown bag, something brushes the back of my leg. Kicking my leg, I whirl around to see nothing there.

It must have been the wind.

My heart thunders frantically in my throat.

"Gotcha!" I snatch the bag hidden under the seat and haul out of there, slamming the door shut harder than I need to. My precious old car lets out a pained moan in response and I rub one of the side mirrors apologetically.

"Well isn't this a scrap of metal?" a voice says from behind me. My breath halts in my chest and every single nightmare I've had in the past few weeks comes rushing back. I know that voice. It's the same voice that told me how it was going to kill me in every one of my dreams.