All the Little Secrets (English Prep 2)

Piper gasped as she looked at her phone. “Oh, shit. I told Mrs. Dewinkle I’d help her prep for today’s student council meeting.”

Hayley let out a light laugh. “You’re not even on the student council, Piper.”

Piper sighed as she started to walk toward the doors to the school. “I know. But she was frazzled after class yesterday, and I said I’d help her.”

“You’re too nice, Pipe. You help everyone.”

“It’s one of my faults.” She smiled shyly at Hayley before turning around and walking through the threshold of English Prep, ignoring me all together.

My brow crinkled. That’s not a fault, Piper.

But it was true. Piper did help everyone. She was kind and genuine, even if she did give me shit the majority of the time. Piper could dish out all the kindness and help there was, but when it came to someone else wanting to help her, she refused. Why was that?

Chapter Eleven

Piper

The halls of English Prep were quiet, as if I were the only person in the building. All of my peers were still outside, waiting for the first bell to ring, chatting with their group of friends, the guys adjusting their navy ties, and the girls pulling their skirts down so Headmaster Walton didn’t turn red in the face when he saw a little too much leg.

After Mrs. Dewinkle thanked me for helping her prep the student council packets for their meeting today, I was free to go back outside with everyone, but the peace and quiet with a fresh mind was just what I needed this morning.

I had four days to figure out how I was going to come up with the money for Tank. Four days to basically pull a wad of cash out of a magician’s hat. Four days to keep Ollie away and to get my brother out of this mess.

I rested my head against my locker, the metal cooling my warm skin. Think, Piper. Just think.

The first bell rang above my head, and I sighed, pushing myself off the lockers. Soon, everyone would be coming inside and getting on with their day, their only worry being the Spanish mid-term that brought students to their knees every year. Yet, my biggest worry was coming up with a large amount of money to pay off my brother’s drug dealer and keeping my story straight so my friends wouldn’t know. Sweet.

Just as I was about to unlock my locker, I realized that my bookbag was still in my car. Get yourself together, Piper.

On the way, I passed by Hayley. “I left my bag in my car. I’ll see you at lunch!”

She nodded as Christian pulled her in close. I kept my eyes straight ahead, ignoring the fact that I knew Ollie wasn’t far behind and that he was probably eyeing me with suspicion. As soon as I was through the doors and had rounded the bend along the side of English Prep, there was a harsh tug on my white blouse, and I flew backwards. “Umph.”

My body flung on top of the sidewalk, and I tumbled backwards, landing on the grass, banging the side of my head off the ornate stone siding. My mouth gaped as I sat up straight, my hand reaching above my ear and locating my source of pain.

“Hiya, Piper.”

A girl who looked a little older than me—or maybe she wasn’t; maybe she was just that run-down—stared at me from up above. I hurriedly tried to scramble to my feet, hearing a loud rip as I moved. I glanced backwards and was met with two long legs standing close to me with one foot on the hem of my plaid skirt. Nice. Now my fucking skirt is ripped.

“What is this?” I asked, staying on the lush grass, pinned down by an obnoxiously large foot on my skirt. If Headmaster Walton thinks there’s too much skin showing in a regularly hemmed skirt, he’s going to faint when he sees a giant rip down the back of mine.

“Let her up.” Slowly, the foot holding me down by my uniformed skirt moved, and I slowly stood up. I brushed my hands down the plaid fabric and bit back agitation.

“Who are you?”

The girl standing in front of me twisted her ratty, dark hair with her finger, the chipped red nail polish catching my eye. Neither she nor the other girl was wearing an English Prep uniform. I didn’t recognize either of them. “Tank sent us.”

I swallowed my thick spit and tried to stay calm, although my body was shaking. “Tank sent you? For what?” I could feel the panic sourcing through my veins, an anxious tremble starting in the tips of my fingers. This wasn’t the first time I’d been face to face with someone over my brother’s shit.

Once, at Wellington Prep, right before my parents tore me away, a girl came up to me and pulled my hair right in front of the entire cafeteria. I screamed out as she demanded my brother pay hers. I remembered looking her dead in the face, the entire cafeteria silent as we sparred off, and telling her that I didn’t pay for my brother’s mistakes and she shouldn’t be doing her brother’s business either. Eventually, a teacher came and took her to the office, and Andrew rushed to my side to make sure I was okay. But I wasn’t. I wasn't okay at all.

I still wasn’t.

The girl behind me walked over to her friend like a sneaky cat, and she smiled deviously, as if she knew something I didn’t. “Tank just wanted to let you know that he has his eye on you and to not get any bright ideas.”

My arms crossed over my chest in defense. “Like what? Going to the cops?” My throat constricted as I swallowed back my breakfast. A cool breeze wafted around my bare legs and up my ripped skirt. I fought the need to shiver. I’d have been lying if I said I didn’t consider going to the cops over this. The image of my brother on Tank’s phone frightened me, and I kept going back to it anytime my thoughts relaxed. But what were the cops going to do? Jason was just as likely to get in trouble as Tank was, and the last thing my parents needed was for Jason to go to jail. It would just make things worse.

The girl with the dark, stringy hair instantly got in my face and forced my body up against the side of the building. The rough stone scraped my skin, but I didn’t move a muscle along my face. I wasn’t going to show her I was in pain.