647Author's Uncrappy Crap: One chapter left! LOL. BOh wait, I change my mind. I need an Epilogue, right? So make that two more chapters left. :| =)) Anyhoo, please don't get mad at Michael TOO much. I still love him, even in the previous chapters he's such a wagner. Ha! So yeah, don't hate him so much because—ACK. The—he—Keller—aargh!—they both made a huge mistake! Eep. Just read on, will you? LMAO. x)
Thank you for having enough feelings love or hate the characters in my story! :)) At least I know that my story affects you in a way. Woot! And thank you for liking this story as much as I LOVE writing this for you guys. This will not be The End!
I've already started an excruciating outline for my new story to follow. :D
28
Lunch came starting as the rich kids sat at their table, noise ringing in the air as they began to talk about this and freaking that.
The students who got in St. George's C.S. on scholarship or like me, whose grandmother is friends with the headmistress, were to serve the spoiled brats their food, pushing silver carts filled with steaming plates of food and a large jug of apple juice. The headmistress and cooks gave the servers early lunches so that we wouldn't have to worry about our own appetite.
When I pushed the cart toward another table, I stopped a bit and narrowed my eyes. There was Michael and his crew. It wasn't the same without Frederick by his side. Or Viv with me there. All around him were the same people I used to hang out with, only there were more girls added to the group. It was a good thing I left them because I swear, I would've smacked them all with the cooks' spatula.
With an angry exhalation through my nostrils, I pushed the cart and stopped at their table. For some reason, I always ended up serving them. It was too late for me to switch table with Cady Klarks. She was already starting to place steaming plates at the table she was assigned to. Opening the silver covers of each plate, I served them all silently. The table was still noisy, but it kind of toned down a bit because I was there and Michael was there. He immediately stopped talking and accepted the plate I placed him. I practically banged the plate in front of him, but he only grabbed his fork and knife and ate his steamed chicken with rich tomato sauce and mashed potato with gravy. I poured their glasses a hefty load of apple juice, then one of them began to talk.
"So Michael," Jenna Higgins said, batting her lashes at him, "wanna come to the movies with me? I heard there's this awesome new movie that is all the talk right now."
Michael shrugged, not looking at her.
The guys began talking about soccer, while the girls tried to persuade Michael to go with them to the movies, the beach, dinner, rockclimbing, or the park. Or to their place. But all the while, Michael was busy eating while tapping on his iPhone with his left hand as the other was forking the mashed potato. "Not sure, girls," he told them quietly but with an edge to his voice.
"More juice, please, before you go, Kells," Mitchell Llewelyn begged kindly, giving me a smile. I stomped toward him with the jug of juice in my hand. I poured it, then poured one into Clint Hefford's glass too.
"But why?" the girls cried to Michael, who was still ignoring them.
"Because I'm not in the mood to go with any of you," he said plainly.
"You're acting so strange right now," Stacey told him.
It seemed like he suppressed rolling his eyes. Meanwhile, I grumbled. I really hated that girl.
"Just before lunch, you were totally flirting with me," she murmured. "Now you don't want to go with me back home later."
There was some part of me that wanted to jump up and grin, but I didn't. I forced myself not to. Besides, Michael was an ass. I know I made a huge mistake with the whole plan weeks ago; and I know Michael had the right to get mad at me. I even accepted him having his fun in England. But that didn't mean he had the right not to feel sorry for the things he did too! So I pursed my lips and waited if anyone still wanted to drink the stupid juice. It was a rule that you to stand and serve for fifteen minutes after you actually gave the students their meal. I was only waiting for my time.
"Micha-a-a-ael," the girls chorused. Some of the guys groaned because they were getting annoying. Huh. I could join with them on that one. Kelly Pricken eyed me and mouthed something I couldn't understand. She was one of the servers too, and she was two tables away from me, waiting for her time to come up as well.
What? I mouthed back.
Blah blah blue blee blah! she mouthed back.
I REALLY didn't understand what she was saying.
I scowled. What? (?)
She rolled her eyes and eyed the headmistress. When she was busy talking with the teachers, Kelly quickly speed-walked toward me, her apron around her waist.
"What were you trying to tell me?" I demanded in a whisper.
"Someone dropped a note in my locker, but it's addressed to you. I think the person who's behind it messed up with our locker number. Anyway, here it is," she told me, stuffing a white card in my hand. "See ya later, Kells!"
I stared at her, then the note. "Yeah, Kells, you too."
As I waited for my time to come up, I leaned on my cart and opened the note.
Keller, meet me in the second storage room. East wing. See you after school. -C.
Was this some kind of sick joke? Whoever wrote this stupid note was a moron. But still...I was curious. But this person might kidnap me! He might strangle me, kill me! Who knows? There might be the Strangler inside the school campus.
But I was still curious.
With a sigh, I placed the note inside my pocket and checked my watch. Fifteen minutes was up. With a groan, I pushed my cart, not realizing that Michael left his table as well, leaving his group.
Geometry B was about to be done, and it was my last subject for the day.
I couldn't shake the feeling inside me. What was it? In my hands, opened and re-opened for the hundredth time, was the letter that Kelly gave me, who was mistaken to be me. Well, Kelly and I were both called Kells at some point. And our lockers were one locker away from each other. Still. It had my name written in the note. Keller, not Kelly.
"Now for your final homework—"
All the students began to whine.
Our teacher ignored us and gave us our task for the day. With that, the bell rang and everyone quickly got up from their seats and left the room with such speed, it was a miracle nobody got hurt in the stampede they created.
I walked out of them room, adjusting my mailman bag and my books. I checked the note again. Keller, meet me in the second storage room. East wing. See you after school. -C.
C?
C?
Who the hell was C?
Maybe Clint Hefford? Well, if he liked me, then he wouldn't have mistaken Kelly's locker with mine, right? So it wasn't him. I thought about all the guys with names starting with the letter C, but I only knew a few.
Or maybe it was a girl?
Oh crap, why would it be a chick?
Ah, whatever. I'd find out soon enough.
"Whoever you are, C, you better make my time for you worth it. I don't want to die," I grumbled, marching my way toward the east wing. The place was deserted, but I heard some scuffling inside the second storage room. I knew that place. It was filled with utility items. You could say it was the janitor's closet, but the school was too fancy so they named it the second storage room. With a snort, I walked toward the door and pulled the door open, a scowl on my face.
"You," I barked. I crossed my arms. "What do you want?"
Michael Cutting—C! Cutting!—stared at me. He opened his note. "I might have to ask you the same thing," he said in a more gentle tone.
But before anyone could answer anyone, two people in black suits pushed me inside, locking Michael and I from the inside of the storage room.
Again.
— é