Run Bad Boy Run

Chapter 2

I must be seeing things—I have to be. I fell on my way inside of school and slipped into a coma. It's first period and I've already dozed off into a nightmare. Those explanations make sense. This person staring at me—it has to be some sort of anxiety-driven hallucination!

When I rub my eyes, he's still there, standing a mere twenty feet away with the world's biggest grin on his lips. There is no possible way Hayden Cross could be back. He's supposed to be at the Westwood Detention Center. I'm supposed to spend my last year of high school relatively worry free.

It makes my stomach churn.

His smile is just as infuriating as I remember it to be—maybe even a little more considering he shouldn't be here. Snapping an emotionless mask onto my face, I stare back, hoping he didn't see the way my eyes bugged out of my head or how I sputtered 'what' for a good two minutes.

Principal Miller is up on his feet in the matter of seconds and I smile. That's right. Kick his ass all the way back to that forsaken place.

"Your quick thinking could have saved these kids from a lot worse," he says with a grave look of approval. "I'm very pleasantly surprised, Hayden."

What?

Hayden shrugs. "I was there. She needed help. There is nothing to be surprised about."

Everyone smiles. It's written all over their faces. Hayden the hero! This is the same person who pulled the fire alarm during one of the worst snowstorms in the history of Wisconsin. We had to stand outside for an hour.

"I know," the principal continues. "It's very much appreciated."

Hayden approaches us with the expression of the humble hero. There's something off about him, I notice. But then again, there's always been something off about him. Normal people don't do the things he's done.

"Like I said, no big deal." He looks over at Gabby with a charming smile, "As long as you're okay..."

She blushes furiously, looking down at her feet to uncharacteristically hide behind a veil of dark hair. I snort, arms instinctively moving to fold protectively over my chest. I refuse to give him the satisfaction of this curve ball. The look on his face, the way he seems to soak everything in, says he has. There's one thing to be a jerk. But a charming jerk—a boy who can give just the right smile to get out of trouble is more than lethal.

Hayden's gray eyes appear to be pure silver under the large fluorescent lights. They meet mine just as his smile vanishes into a hard frown. We're momentarily suspended in a glaring contest, daring each other to shoot first. Both want to.

Gabby coughs. When our eyes meet she gives a small shake of her head, radiating comfort and sympathy as well as slowly taking deep breaths. This is when I have to try my hardest to keep the Chance-family explosive temper at bay.

It all started when I moved to the little town outside of Madison, Wisconsin in seventh grade. Hayden Cross was used to swaggering around all of Valleyfield like he owned the place. I was one of the few people to call him out on his arrogance. And the rest is history.

"Right, Ember?"

I snap out of my trance. "What was that?"

Principal Miller's smile stretches even wider and now he appears to be in pain. "What he did. It was admirable right?"

I look at the man to make sure he hasn't magically grown a second head or forgot about Hayden and I's infamous prank wars over the last four years. What the hell is Principal Miller expecting me to do? Grovel?

Instead of groveling, I ask, "What are you doing here?"

"What are you doing here?" I hiss, eyes narrowing. Enough with the hero talk.