Mine

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Mine Page 2

by A. N. Senerella


  Excuse me? I don’t know you, and even if I did you can’t order me around.

  you do. you just don’t realize it yet

  Chills shot through my entire body. This was so weird. What could he possibly want? You do know me, you just don’t realize it yet. What did that even mean? I shoved my phone into my pocket, not bothering to reply, and looked at Mitchell. I guess I looked pretty shaken because concern shot across his face instantly.

  “You okay?”

  “He has my phone number now.”

  “Who?”

  “Foster.”

  “Who’s Foster?” Mitchell’s face was blank and his eyebrows pushed together uncertainly. For a genius, he could be really thick sometimes.

  “The guy that just handed your ass to you on a silver platter.”

  “Report him for harassment or something, then.”

  “And say what? ‘A boy is texting me?’ I’ll just block his number or something. He’s a creep.” I sighed as the choir instructor walked into the room. “We’ll talk about this during lunch when Sierra’s there for me to bounce ideas off of.”

  “Alright, I guess.”

  He didn’t sound too convinced, but I didn’t really care if he believed me. I was seriously creeped out.

  What was wrong with this guy?

  Chapter 2

  “What the hell is your problem, Anika?”

  I raised my eyebrow at Brady. “Nice to see you too.”

  “No, don’t give me that. Why’d you set your boyfriend on me because you left your backpack with me? It’s not my fault you left. If you think you can seriously just have some guy intimidate me into doing what you want, you’re wrong, got it?”

  Now I was confused. “I didn’t do anything like that.” Slowly, a chill spread through my body as I suddenly I realized who he was talking about.

  “Why are you so pale?”

  “That’s Foster.” I rubbed my temples, massaging as though I could rid myself of this problem simply by rubbing my head. “He’s weird, and he’s been beating the hell out of anyone who goes near him. Or… near me I guess. Either way, he’s getting on my nerves and needs to stay away from me.”

  Brady looked at me thoughtfully.

  “What?”

  “So he’s just a stalker then?”

  “That’s not what I said.” But yes, he certainly seemed that way at the moment.

  Brady took a seat across from me.

  “What in the world are you doing?”

  “I’m sitting.”

  “Really? I thought you were doing ballet.” I rolled my eyes. “Why are you sitting here?”

  “Well, someone’s gotta keep him away from you.”

  “Why are you trying to help me?”

  “I want to.”

  I leaned forward so my forehead hit the table. The entire male population was dedicated to driving me completely insane today, I was certain of it. First, some random guy I’d never met claimed that I did, in fact, know him, and now, Brady was sitting with me at lunch after basically ignoring me for however many years. What the hell had happened overnight to make everything go crazy?

  “Aw, did you hurt yourself? I could kiss that better if you want.”

  “Screw you.”

  “Well, if you insist. I mean, I don’t have any other plans, so…”

  I lifted my head just a little bit and let it fall against the table again. Maybe if I just hit my head against something hard enough, I could forget that today was happening and wake up in, like, two years or something. That sounded great. A two-year nap. I hadn’t realized how tired I was until right now. Maybe that’s what it was; maybe the world wasn’t going insane, and it was just me imagining things. If my mind was doing this to me, though, that meant I was subconsciously masochistic, because dealing with these people was starting to become physically painful.

  “I wasn’t kidding,” Brady informed me seriously.

  “Have you ever wanted to beat the stupid out of someone?”

  “Yes, why?”

  “Because that’s all I can think about right now.”

  “Um…” Sierra’s voice came questioningly as she approached the table and noticed our intruder.

  “I don’t know, so don’t ask me,” I groaned.

  I felt her sit next to me on the bench, and I felt Mitchell sit on my other side. I continued hitting my head on the table; enough to make a noise and express my frustration, but not hard enough to actually hurt me. Mitchell rubbed my shoulder gently and my phone buzzed. His hand was rubbing circles on my back when I read the text and I paled instantly as I read it.

  didn’t i tell you what would happen if i saw that creep touch you?

  I sat up instantly and looked around for Foster. Mitchell retracted his arm, and Brady looked confused. Sierra didn’t know a thing about what was going on, so she didn’t question it at all until she saw the looks on the other two’s faces. “He’s watching me. This weirdo is watching me.” My lips were numb and my tone was flat.

  Brady’s eyebrows pushed together. “He is?”

  “Yes.”

  Suddenly, Brady leaned across the table. I reacted just in time to move my face enough that he kissed my cheek rather than whatever he’d been aiming for. I jolted in surprise and fell backward in my attempt to scoot away from him as quickly as possible. My back was flat against the ground and my calves were on the seat where my butt had been previously. I’d hit my head when I fell and I groaned. “What is going on with the world?”

  Sierra squeaked in alarm and immediately grabbed one of my arms, dragging me back up into the chair to the best of her ability. Then again, she was so tiny that she didn’t actually have much ability, so I almost didn’t move at all, aside from my arm reacting to Sierra’s pulling. I gripped her forearm and pulled myself up into the chair, glaring at Brady immediately upon my return.

  Brady looked surprised and a little bit offended. “Kissing me appalls you that much?”

  “Why did you do that?”

  “I’m offended that you rejected me so severely.”

  “Why did you do that?” I repeated, more irritably.

  “I mean, I know you’re not exactly my type of girl or anything, but I’m still pretty much the hottest guy living, let alone going to this school. I doubt anyone better’s gonna try to kiss you, so it might as well be me.”

  This was going nowhere fast. He had ignored my question to indulge in his own meaningless rant about how great he thought he was. I stood up, looking down at them. “Well, that’s enough crazy for me today,” I announced when I had gotten to my feet. “I’m done. I’m going home, and I’m transferring schools because this one has clearly launched itself into some weird Hell designed specifically for me.”

  “You’re skipping again?” Sierra asked, disappointed.

  Brady smirked. “Kinda hot that you’re breaking the rules.”

  “You!” I said, jabbing my finger toward Brady. “Stop being weird! Go back to being the moron that didn’t notice me, would you? You’re pissing me off!” I looked at Mitchell with equal irritation. “You! Learn how to fight, for the love of God!”

  “I didn’t even do anything!” he protested, with slightly widened eyes.

  “And you! Hit the gym or something. You weigh about as much as a sugar cookie and you’ll never fight anyone off or physically help someone like that!” I growled at Sierra. When I’d regained control of myself, I glared, made a loud noise of frustration and threw my hands up. “I’m leaving. If one of you wants to come with me, come with me. This does not include you, Brady. You stay away from me. You’re creeping me out too, now.”

  He started to defend himself, or possibly just to reply to my sudden attack, but I spun on my heel and fled the cafeteria as casually as I could, making my way to the door leading outside.

  The second I reached the student parking lot, I felt like I was actually going to explode.

  Foster wa
s leaning against my car.

  Why?

  Why was this happening?

  Why was anything happening at this point?

  “Get away from my car, creep,” I half sighed as I approached him.

  He grinned. “Hi.”

  “Are you deaf?”

  “Someone’s grumpy.”

  Someone’s being stalked by some creepy guy and having a random guy try to kiss her and having her best friend get beaten up. “My day has not gone well in any sense of the word, and I would appreciate it if you left me alone. In fact, I can think of national tragedies that have gone better than my day has so far, and feel free to ask me why because I have a list.” Like Angelina Whatever breaking up with Brad Something, for example. So what, Anika? Just pay attention to your own life. You aren’t the celebrity and you don’t know them, so their choices have nothing to do with you. Okay. Maybe I was a little angrier about that than I should have been. “You creep me out, you somehow managed to get my phone number, and I don’t want to deal with any more people today.”

  He tilted his head. “You’re interesting.”

  “Okay?”

  He grinned again. “I like interesting, and I like you.”

  “You know what I like? Boys that don’t stalk me.”

  “So you have a type, then?”

  I felt like slamming my head into a wall repeatedly to simulate what it felt like to talk to him rather than actually talking to him. Either way, I would probably end up with the same headache intensity. “What are you even talking about?”

  “What’s your type?”

  “Of what?”

  “Guy.”

  “What?” My tone was exhausted, and I felt drained by this conversation as it ran around in circles. It was draining my will to live, slowly but surely.

  “What kind of guys do you like?”

  “If I answer, will you get away from my car so I can leave?”

  “I’ll consider it.”

  “I don’t like the whole ‘wannabe player bad boy’ thing. It’s just irritating. Guys who beat up other guys for no reason bother me. Guys who stalk me bother me. Guys who watch me and wait for me by my car bother me.”

  “You’re a bit hostile.”

  What could I even reply to that with?

  “I want to be friends,” he announced.

  “There’s no way I’m getting rid of you, is there?”

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re interesting, and I want you.”

  Whoa. Sounding a little horror movie, there. I suddenly felt very uncomfortable being alone with him. A thousand scenarios flashed through my mind, from kidnapping to having the SWAT team randomly swoop down with a net and take him away, and tell me that he was an experimental design they use to find people and scare them into submission. That one seemed more likely. Now I just had to find his deactivation switch. Maybe I could return to my life then. “Not only do I not understand what that means, I don’t want to know.”

  An arm wove itself around my waist and I almost jumped out of my skin as I felt the warmth of someone else against me.

  “Hey. Who’s this?”

  I had never been so thankful for Sierra in my entire life.

  “This is Foster.”

  Sierra offered her hand to him, and he looked at me hesitantly, slowly taking her hand but not looking away from me. She smiled at him. “Hey, you’re new right? Then it makes sense that you don’t know about her boyfriend. He really wouldn’t like it if you were hitting on her, though, and I don’t think that’s something a good person does.”

  “Boyfriend.” Foster’s eyes blazed suddenly.

  “Um… yeah,” I squeaked. Lie. Lie fast. Who was the last person you talked to? Just say Mitchell. No, no, say someone you wouldn’t mind seeing killed. “It’s… Brady.” Well, I mean, kind of nailed it? I guess?

  Sierra’s nails dug into my side in warning. She wanted me to stop talking. I’d just given a name, and this guy was clearly unstable. I had probably just signed Brady’s death certificate in cursive. Not that I really liked him that much, but still, I felt a little guilty, and I would probably feel even more guilty when this sociopath murdered him and we all had to watch his body being scooped out of the lake on the news.

  “Brady.” His eyes blazed darker like pools of black fire.

  I was almost actually scared.

  If there was anyone in the school with a chance of surviving this intense boy, though, it was probably Brady; that much was true, but Foster was taller by about an inch and built in a very muscular way. Foster’s fist flashed out and into the side of my poor car, making a bang loud enough to make me jump. Sierra jumped as well and we watched in horror as Foster stalked toward the school.

  Brady was dead. He was so dead.

  “So… if Brady survives, how’re you gonna explain this?”

  “With lots of apologies and money.”

  “Good plan. You might need to pay the hospital bills.”

  ***

  My phone rang at around five p.m., and I answered it cautiously, not sure if I wanted to talk to the person who had flashed up on the caller ID.

  “So. How long have we been dating?”

  “I needed to lie. You were the most recent person I’d been near. Hey, did Foster kick your ass?”

  “No, he didn’t. He didn’t come anywhere near me, actually. Sierra told me.”

  “Um… yeah. Sorry. I wasn’t trying to get you killed.”

  He laughed on the other end of the line. “I’m not afraid of that guy.”

  “Right.”

  Brady paused thoughtfully. “If we’re gonna pretend to date, you should commit to it a little more. Like, not freaking out and nearly falling to your death when I try to kiss you. In fact, you should get really accustomed to me kissing you.”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa. I never said we were gonna do that.”

  “Do you want to deal with him finding out you lied?”

  I was in a corner. Both of the options I had appalled me. Death, or pretend to date Brady. Tough call. “Fine,” I said reluctantly. “I’m not going to kiss you unless I have to, though. I mean, unless I really have to. I’ve never kissed anyone and I was really not planning on having my first kiss be with you.”

  “You’re a kiss virgin?”

  “…What?”

  “Kiss virgin. You’ve never been kissed.”

  “Yeah. So what?”

  “Just surprised me, that’s all.”

  I didn’t see why. It’s not like I was all that social. “Whatever. So, cover story. How long have we been dating?”

  “Two months sounds safe.”

  “Exact day,” I sighed impatiently

  “November third.”

  “Okay. Tell me something about you.”

  “What?”

  “I can’t claim to be dating you and know nothing about you. So start talking.”

  “I’m tired.”

  “It’s five.”

  “Fine, then I’m lazy and don’t want to be on the phone anymore.” Boys were so frustrating. “Fine,” I growled. “Whatever.”

  “Bye, babe,” he said in a mockingly flirtatious voice.

  I grimaced and heard the click of him hanging up on the other end of the line. As soon as the line went dead, I fell face first onto my bed and just stared into the nothingness of my closed eyes. Today was so weird. What was going on with the world?

  And how was I going to get out of it?

  Chapter 3

  I didn’t even get twenty-four hours before Brady decided that he wanted to bother me again. My phone rang at seven in the morning on Saturday and, being the person I was, I ignored it. It rang five more times before I picked up the phone and threw it across the room, against a wall, and went back to sleep. At ten, I finally got out of bed and walked over to my phone to call him, sifting through the pile of clothes that it had landed o
n when I’d thrown it. He picked up on the first ring and I sighed. “What were you calling me for, Brady?”

  “You’re coming to my party tonight, so I need you to look hot.”

  I didn’t reply at first. Me, looking “hot”? That was a physical improbability. “Excuse me?”

  “Look, Foster’s coming to the party. So if he sees you with me, he might take a hint.”

  If he was lying, I couldn’t tell. On the other hand, he was a very good liar, and I was one of the most oblivious people in the world. “Fine, whatever. I don’t own any dresses though, and you sure as hell don’t get a say in it.”

  “Do I get a say in it if I pay for it?”

  “No. You’re not buying me anything.”

  “Why?”

  I hated it when people bought things for me, regardless of how I knew said person. And I was not going to owe Brady anything when this was over. I just wanted to get Foster to back off, maybe have a little fun poking the bear in the process, and get out of this with at least the majority of my sanity. “Because you’re not. What time is the party?”

  “Six.”

  “When’s it over?”

  “When everyone has alcohol poisoning.”

  “I don’t drink.”

  He groaned on the other end of the line. “Oh God, you’re gonna be that person.”

  Moron. “I value the law, thank you.”

  “Okay. Just look hot tonight and I won’t bother you.”

  Horndog. “Get off my phone.”

  Brady snorted, but he hung up.

  Jerk. My phone rang about four seconds later and I answered it. “What do you want, Brady?” I snapped, without bothering to actually look at the caller ID. Bad choice on my part.

  “Having relationship problems?”

  Foster’s voice sent ice down my spine. “No. I’m just a little cranky at the moment.”

  “Your boyfriend’s hosting a party.”

  “Yeah… and?”

  “Are you going?”

  “Why?”

  “Because if you don’t go, there’s really no reason for me to go.”

  I sighed and contemplated my options. If I did go to the party, I’d probably somehow have to prove I was dating Brady in front of Foster. If I didn’t, Foster might think I was lying and I wasn’t ready to die yet. Though that might change if I’m forced to put up with these people too long. Really, there was no winning. So I took a deep breath and forced a happy tone. “Yeah, of course I’m going. He throws parties like this all the time. They’re fun.” Well, the first two parts were true. I’d never been to his parties, though he threw them a lot, but I imagined they weren’t really fun, especially with my social anxiety that tried to choke me when I was in crowds.

 

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