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"I already know what you're going to say and I'm offended that you even want to ask me," Dakota grumbled, extremely displeased. "To answer your question, I'll be nowhere near Pierson's house for his barbaric soccer extravaganza. I will most likely be doing something productive with my time and not getting drunk with those Neanderthals."

"C'mon they aren't that bad."

"Yeah, they are. If not worse."

"You're making it sound like I'm asking you to donate your liver."

"I'd gladly do that than be anywhere near them." He rolled his eyes and looked at me, glancing up from his sketch. "Look, Silvia. That's beside the point. I'm sure I'm the last person Pierson wants you going to his house with. And even-for some strange twist of fate-that I did agree to go to his stupid, idiotic party, there's no way he'd let you bring me even get passed the front door. He'd make some messed up joke out of it."

"Wanna bet that I could in fact get you in?" I challenged.

"There's no way he would agree. He's more likely to laugh in your face than to say okay to me coming with you."

"Then you shouldn't mind placing a bet on my capability to get you in."

He inched away from. "Why? I already know what--"

"Just say yes already," I pleaded. "You are so sure that he'll say no, then why don't you put that theory to the test? If he says yes, you're going to that party, but if he says no then I'll do your next set of AP Government notes."

He let out a loud, clear laugh-causing even the teacher to give us a glare. I was pretty sure this was the first time I'd heard Dakota genuinely laugh. When he saw I wasn't laughing along, he stopped himself, catching his breath. "Wait. You're serious? Silvia, you can't even take proper notes, let along finish a packet assignment without sneaking a glance at Faye's desk and she's already failing this class."

"That's not true! I take some decent notes." I defended myself.

"Decent isn't the word I'd use," he confessed. "Compared to mine, they are below average."

"You're doing a great job at being nice."

"I am being nice by being honest." He shrugged. "It's only the truth. If I must be completely honest, you do bare minimum. On a good day."

I squinted. "Oh, really? Well if your notes are so perfect and above average, then let me see them."

Snatching up his notebook before he could object, I grazed my gray eyes over the exquisite handwriting and lines of Roman numerals, showing where he brought in a new topic. On the left page, there were a set of questions, dealing with each topic that was brought up, and not just the basic Who, What, Why, Where, and When. They were well-structured questions made with thought and care.

He was right. His notes were better than mine. I'd scribble random things from inside the reading material into the lined piece of paper, hoping it was enough for me to scrap by Mr. Finley.

While silently passing Dakota back his notebook--in defeat--his schedule slipped out and on to my desk. He didn't stop me when I unfolded it.

"You have all AP classes for your academic classes." I darted a look up at him. "Are you deranged or do you like being tortured?"

He smirked. "Is that a trick question? I thought it was clear by now. I'm very much deranged."

"No seriously though. How do you manage to have all of these classes? I freak out from the advanced classes I'm taking. And what's this?" I pointed down to his seventh and eighth period. It had initials I'd never seen on a transcript.

"Oh, that? That's just basically saying I go off campus."

"For two whole periods?

"Well. Yeah. Three times out of the week, I go over to the local community college and take some classes. They don't have the kind of math and science I need. I already finished most of the required courses by sophomore year."

"Why are you even in school?" I jumped to say, baffled.

He laughed. I liked when he laughed. "Well I'm obviously staying around cause the students are so nice to me."

"Of course." I played along. I didn't ask him why he was on campus yesterday after school though. It was probably because of the rain, stopping him from leaving. If I was him, I'd wait for the rain to slow down or stop entirely.

"So you just go home after fifth period sometimes?" I asked and he nodded. "You're lucky. That's not fair."

What I really wanted to say was how unfair it was to be both attractive, talented, and highly intelligent. It honestly wasn't fair at all. There needed to be some kind of law enforced to whoever made these people. I was cut short.

I handed him back his schedule. "About this party thing though..."

"There's no way it'll work. As much as you want to try." He pressed on. "I know you'd like to think highly of these people, but I can assure you that they aren't as great as they may seem. You don't know them; you just met them. You don't know what they are capable of."

"Dakota, they aren't villains."

"They are in my story, doll." He shut his sketch book and slipped it into his backpack. I hadn't said a word, but he was already sighing. "How about this? If for some unknown reason he's okay with me going, I'll..." He gulped. "I'll consider going. But since that's unlikely that he will--"

I didn't let him finish. "Oh, trust me I'll make it happen."

He inched away from me. "I think you're a little too confident. You're scaring me."

. . .

Spanish class was a bad time to ambush Pierson. With Doug and Beth there, I knew they'd only influence his answer. After school was off the table as well because that was when the second half of the soccer try outs were being held and he was helping the coach. From what I saw yesterday, his position as captain wasn't going to be taken from him. Beth was beyond right when she said he was the best. He left the other players in the dust. He was faster than any of them, making swift moves for the goal. It was like watching him fight at the Smell all over again. They were no match for him.

Before school on Friday was when I finally grew the courage to ask to speak to him. When I said "I want to speak with you privately," nearly half the tables made noises like middle schoolers. Beth gave me a somber look, but I intentionally ignored it. I didn't have time for her jealous, possessive nature.

I could see him try to hide his growing smiling when I asked for alone time. "What is it you want to talk about?"

"I wanted to talk about that thing you've got going on Wednesday night." Sucking in a dry breath, I balled my hands into fists. "Is it okay if I bring a plus one?"

"Beth's already invited."

"I mean someone else."

"You want to invite Xander? Sure, that's fine by me."

"No. I mean someone else." I emphasized on my words more, hoping he'd catch on.

"Well, I don't know who else you'd bring along with you. It's not like you'd bring Dakota with you." He laughed a little too hard.

My voice fell down to a whisper. "Actually I was going to--"

"What?" He looked at me, straining his neck forward as he narrowed his eyes. "I was joking, Silvia. Have you lost your mind? You've gotta be joking."

"Well I wasn't joking."

"No. You can't be serious."

"I am. I told him I'd ask if it was okay."

All evidence of that wonderful smile of his from earlier was gone now. "You're wasting your breath. You should already know the answer to that question. It doesn't even need to be asked. There are people, not just one or two people, but countless people who want to beat the living shit out of him who are going to be at that party. Ridgewood knows better than to think he can walk into my house and leave unharmed."

"Can't you keep your minions on a leash?" I mirrored his defensive stance and crossed my arms over my chest, standing my ground. "I'm sure you can make them refrain from beating someone up for a few hours."

"Maybe I don't want to stop them."

"Are you serious?" I scowled. "Then maybe I don't want to go."

_________

Please vote and comment.

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Song: Snap Out Of It by Arctic Monkeys

Lyrics:

❝I wanna grab both your shoulders and shake, baby. Snap out of it (Snap out of it).❞

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