The Reincarnated (Book 2A of Wolfcreek Series)

Chapter 4

The bell rang for the end of the day, and I sighed with relief. I hated being bored, and I was bored all day because we only went through the syllabus and introduced ourselves to each other, and I knew that I would have problems remembering their names because I didn't care about them that much unless they became my friends.

It had almost gotten to the point that I almost called my dad and would have begged him to let me go home early. I would have too if it hadn't been for Bryson wanting to play this strange bingo game in which in each class, he had us fill out this card of who did what in each class we took together, which was all of them.

For lunch, I did what I normally did and ate with Charlie, and I was grateful that the school allowed me to do it, even though it wasn't considered "normal." However, it was "normal" for me because the smells, sounds, and other stuff that the lunchrooms held gave me a huge headache, no matter how many times I've been there.

And that basically summed up the school day in which I almost begged to be released early or almost killed someone because they were annoying and didn't take no for an answer, even though I had constantly told them to leave me alone.

I shook my head and huffed, breaking me from my thoughts, and started to walk to school, not knowing where Bryson went while I mulled over the day.

Taking a deep breath, I moved a hand through my hair and pushed the door open to see a black car sitting there, the same one that Bryson had gotten out of before school. My heart clenched in grief and longing again, and I pursed my lips and looked down because I had no idea why I felt like this, especially since I just saw the car this morning.

The car pulled up beside me while I walked past, and I glanced at it to see Bryson sticking his head out the window. He grinned when he caught my eye, his gray eyes brightening, and I couldn't help but smile because I liked seeing him happy. "Hey, do you want a lift?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

I raised an eyebrow but kept walking in the direction that led to my house, with Bryson's father keeping the car leveled with me. "Did you ask me that before the last class?" I asked, cocking my head. "And isn't my house in the opposite direction than yours once we reach the four-way?"

Bryson pouted, and I rolled my eyes at the nineteen-year-old male because he should know better than the lip didn't work with me because he had tried that during our second class. "Yes," he grumped. He folded his arms across his chest and pouted further, and I could've sworn that I had heard a snort coming from Bryson's father because he was acting like a child. "But my dad doesn't mind if we swing by your place and drop you off first."

I smiled and shook my head, no, because I didn't need to be dropped off and wanted to keep walking. "I am trying to get ready for cross country," I replied, shrugging my shoulders. "I don't mind the walk, and my parents basically expect me to be there in twenty minutes."

"You live two miles from the school, right?" Bryson raised an eyebrow, and I nodded. "Why does it take you twenty minutes?"

"Because I take my time, duh." I flinched when someone slammed their hand on their horn and turned in that direction to see someone yelling at Bryson's dad to hurry up and move out of their way. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Bryson smiled and nodded his head, and I was grateful that he wouldn't push me to get into the car with him and his dad. "See you tomorrow," he said. He waved and started to roll up his window while his dad started to drive farther away.

My eyes grew wider, and a blush appeared on my face because I had forgotten to thank Bryson's dad for the offer to take me home. "Thank you for the offer, Mr. Langham," I said in a rush. "I really appreciate it."

The car stopped so suddenly that the car behind them slammed on their brakes hard before slamming their hand against the horn. The driver's side door barely opened before someone, probably Bryson, told them to 'wait.'

I stopped walking and watched the scene in front of me fold out; my heart started to pound faster and faster in my chest, and it got harder for me to breathe while I waited to see what would happen. I grabbed the straps on my bag harder and waited for something, anything to happen, but it never did.

The driver's door closed fully before the driver started to drive away, taking my heart with them, followed by the driver of the other vehicle, and then the next person behind that one.

I stayed in my spot and watched the black car until it drove out of sight before I was able to stir with a shake of my head. Pursing my lips, I started to make my way towards my house with furrowed brows because I had no idea what that was about and wondered if someone did.

Why did the driver slam on the brakes so hard? Why was he trying to get out of the car, and why did Bryson stop him? Why did it feel so weird to call Bryson's dad "Mr. Langham" when that was his name, his title?

Many questions filled my brain, and I had no idea how to get answers for any of them. All I knew was that they would be answered one day, but I didn't know when or how.

I just hoped that whatever happened, I wouldn't lose myself while I learn about these strange feelings that I had with the car and the person it hid from view.