Chapter 2: Smoke and Shadows at the Arcade

He was close enough that I could smell his cologne—a mix of citrus and smoke. “If you block me, I’ll come find you at the entrance to Maple Heights High.”

I was a nervous wreck all night. I’d gotten myself mixed up with a delinquent—was I doomed?

I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, my phone clutched to my chest. Every sound outside made me jump. I pictured Chris and his crew showing up at my house, or worse, at school the next day.

Were they going to shake me down for lunch money, make me steal, or force me to smoke?

My mind spun with every bad-movie scenario I could think of—like something straight out of a John Hughes flick or an after-school special. Would they make me stand lookout while they robbed a store? Would I have to sneak cigarettes in the girls’ bathroom just to stay on their good side?

My allowance was only three bucks a day. Maybe I could give them a dollar. Worst case, I’d eat nothing but peanut butter sandwiches for lunch and dinner.

I did the math in my head, counting out coins from my change jar. Maybe I could stretch it if I skipped breakfast, too. My stomach growled just thinking about it.

As for stealing or smoking? No way, not ever.

I made a silent promise to myself: I’d rather get beat up every day than cross that line. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself to be brave, or at least invisible.

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The next day at school, my desk was spotless—no used pads stuck to it, no cigarette butts ground out.

It was almost eerie. The usual graffiti was gone, and my books were stacked neatly, like someone had actually cared. A couple of kids glanced at me, then quickly looked away.

Marissa and Brianna glanced at me, then looked away fast.

They huddled together by the lockers, whispering furiously. I caught Marissa’s eye for a split second, but she dropped her gaze, pretending to be fascinated by the floor tiles.

They were already infamous, but Lincoln Vocational’s crowd was on another level. I must’ve been crazy to cross them.

Rumors flew through the hallways, bouncing from one group to another. I overheard someone mutter, “You don’t mess with Lincoln kids, not unless you want trouble.” I kept my head down, pretending not to hear.

At lunch, I didn’t dare leave campus and just bought a plain sandwich in the cafeteria. Luckily, I wasn’t too hungry—one sandwich was enough.

The cafeteria was packed, the smell of pizza and tater tots heavy in the air. I sat at the far end of a table, picking at my sandwich, wishing I could shrink into my seat.

Halfway through eating, someone yanked my hair.

Pain shot through my scalp. My sandwich hit the tray with a dull thud. I twisted around, trying to see who it was, but the grip just tightened.

Three guys were pulling at my hair. One of them was Kyle from my class—the same guy who stubbed out cigarettes on my desk every day.

Kyle’s eyes glinted with mean satisfaction. He looked like he enjoyed this way too much. His buddies flanked him, blocking any chance of escape.

Kyle sneered, “Marissa and those idiots actually believed you know Chris Delaney. You think you’re tough now, huh? Acting like you really have some big shot backing you.”

His voice was loud, drawing the attention of everyone nearby. I could feel the heat of embarrassment rising in my cheeks.

The other two guys said, “Come on, the school gate’s about to close.”

One of them jerked his thumb toward the exit, and the three of them started hauling me out of the cafeteria, ignoring my protests.

They dragged me to a strip mall gaming café just outside the school gate.

The strip mall was grimy, with flickering neon signs and the smell of stale coffee drifting out the door. The gaming café was wedged between a laundromat and a dollar store, its windows plastered with faded flyers.

Kyle knocked on the counter. “Three computers, she’s paying.”

He slapped a crumpled dollar on the counter, then shoved me forward. My heart pounded as I tried to steady myself.

The kid behind the counter looked up—it was the blond guy from yesterday.

He was leaning back in his chair, feet propped up, scrolling through his phone. When he saw me, his expression didn’t change, but his eyes sharpened.

Kyle instantly let go of me, lowered his head, and greeted respectfully, “Hey, Chris.”

The sudden shift in his tone was jarring. He straightened up, trying to act casual, but I could see the fear in his eyes.

So he was Chris Delaney.

A couple of the other customers glanced over, recognizing the name. The room felt colder all of a sudden.

The other two guys, who had me pinned between them, also smiled nervously and greeted Chris.

Their bravado melted away. One of them even gave Chris a little wave, like they were old friends.

Chris looked at me, his expression unreadable.

He just watched me, tapping his fingers on the counter. The silence stretched until it was almost unbearable.

Kyle patted my cheek and grinned, “Ha, this girl even fooled my classmates yesterday, claiming she knows you, Chris.”

His hand lingered a little too long, and I jerked away, but he just laughed, looking for Chris’s approval.

Chris didn’t hesitate. “Yeah.”

He said it flat, no emotion. The room seemed to tilt for a second as everyone tried to process what he’d just admitted.