What Lies Beneath

Seven

"You know, Loftman, I don't think sleeping during the lesson is going to get you a higher grade in this class." Patty's whisper was loud in my ear; her breath tickling my skin. As my head lay on my desk, I glanced over my curled arms at her. She twirled her pencil in between her fingers, eyeing me with a bird eye's view from her own desk—the one beside mine.

I shrugged. "As long as I'm passing, I don't care."

She frowned. "Did you sleep at all last night?"

I shrugged again. "A little." That was a lie.

Sleep had been a foreign thing to me for the past two nights. My mind was far too open to rest. I'd slipped the ring into a Ziplock bag and stored it in my bottom drawer when I got home. But I couldn't figure out what to do with it. Should I have given it to someone? Should I have told Christian I found it? If I did either of those things, it could have helped them with their case.

Taking matters into my own hands was also an option. One touch on that ring could have had all the answers I was looking for. But there were two issues. One: there was a ninety-eight percent chance I'd leave my fingerprints. Two: I found possible evidence for Emerald's case, took said evidence, and didn't notify the police department. That was a recipe for disaster.

Not to mention, I wouldn't have seen the light of day for the next several years.

"If it helps any, the teacher's lounge has plenty of coffee. And being that I'm a hall monitor, I have lots of viable connections. So, if I want coffee, I can get it." There was an inviting smile on her face oozing with confidence. I wasn't sure she ever ran out of confidence, at this point.

I figured her words were code for being a teacher's pet. It was no secret that most teacher's favored Patty over everyone else. She tried her hardest and did what she was told with no questions asked. I didn't think she had a rebel bone in her body.

"That's okay, Patty. I don't need you to do that," I mumbled.

She stared at me in a daze—almost as if she was staring in wonder. My lips twitched. But I didn't let myself frown. Rather, I met her gaze with my own heavy stare. My eyes bored into hers so much, I was practically picking her apart with my eyes, and taking a dive in her soul.

"What is it?" I scoffed.

"Hmm, you know, they say sleep is a valuable thing. Loftman, every day you come to school tired. Do you even value your sleep? I'm not sure if you're an insomniac or if there's something else going on but the human body needs at least eight to nine hours of sleep—"

"Patty! Tyler!" Both of our shoulders tensed. Our English teacher, Ms. Torrez, scolded us with her big, oval-shaped hazel eyes; narrowed into a thin slit. She had both hands on her hips as she grinded her teeth in annoyance.

"Sorry," Patty and I said in unison.

"Pay attention. Please." Ms. Torrez sighed. Neither of us retorted—only faced the board and gave Ms. Torrez our undivided attention. Ms. Torrez's words went in and out of one ear. I tried my best to focus but everything she said sounded like gibberish to me. It wasn't possible for my brain to function on less than six hours of sleep. And that was the total for both days combined.

"Tyler, you're dozing off again!" Patty hissed. "Are you sure you don't need that coffee?"

"Yes, Patty. I'm sure. I don't even drink coffee—"

"Class dismissed!" Ms. Torrez's voice followed after the bell. Chairs scraped across the hard, marble, polished floors while students scrambled out of the classroom with their belongings in hand. I looked away, then back at Patty who was neatly packing her folders into her bag.