“It sounds pretty official to me,” I tell her. “Have you talked to him about it?”
Drix scrunches her face. “I tried,” she admits. “You know, that day you were on the phone and he showed up. We talked a bit, but then I kinda jumped him, and then I forgot what fucking day it was so …”
I glance across at her. “I could talk to him if you want me to,” I suggest. “See what’s going through his head right now. I have a particular gift for getting information out of that one.”
“No,” she laughs. “We’re not kids anymore. I can do it, but I just … I don’t know. I’m kinda scared that he’s going to say that we’re just friends and having fun. I mean, isn’t that what he said to you?”
“Not exactly,” I say with a cringe, feeling slightly awkward. “It was the other way around.”
“Oh, so you’re the whore in that situation?”
“No,” I laugh. “We were both whores just looking for a little fun, but he could tell that Colton had his eye on me and he just wanted to nail me down before Colton could steal his little toy away, but I’m not about that.” I glance over at her to find her hanging on every single word. “Look, to be completely honest, it wasn’t real between Charlie and me. It was just some innocent flirting, and he wanted to hang onto it because it was the start of our friendship, but we’ve both grown since then, and the friendship is still intact. It’s over, like so over that I hardly even remember it happening.”
“You’re sure? There’s not even a hint of feeling left inside you wishing you could take another stab at him?”
I shake my head. “Not even a little. In fact, I can’t even remember the last time I saw him, and I’m pretty sure that makes me a really shitty friend.”
“It does,” she agrees with a teasing sparkle hitting her eye. We turn the corner, and she instantly unhooks her arm from mine as we near her homeroom class. “Alright, I’ll see you during the first break. Try not to whore yourself out while I’m gone.”
“Ha. Ha,” I say blankly, continuing on past as she whips herself into the room.
I keep moving down the hallway, but for some reason, find myself stopping as I pass the library. Students bump into me as I stare into the massive room. I shouldn't be late for homeroom, but I'm edging forward anyway, knowing every step in the wrong direction is bringing me closer to detention.
I walk past the front desk and the quiet study area before slipping past the rows and rows of books until I finally find the office at the back. I glance up at the door and scan my eyes over the name. ‘Miss Davies.’
What am I doing here? I should walk away. This isn’t any of my business, and not to mention, if Christian knew I was standing at her door, he’d probably be the first to get in on jumping me.
Taking a breath, I raise my fist and gently knock on the door.
My hand falls back to my side, and within a second, her too chirpy voice calls through her office. “Come in.”
Taking hold of the door handle, I push my way through to her office and watch as her brows raise as she takes me in. “Ocean, what a surprise,” she says. “How can I help you?”
I glance around her office, not really sure how to say what I need to say. “I, uhh … I was hoping we could talk.”
Miss Davies settles into her chair and leans back, watching me through curious eyes. “Is everything alright? Did all go well with your college applications?”
“Yeah, umm … that’s all good. I got in, but then I got rejected for student loans, so that’s a whole other issue I need to figure out. Not that it really matters anymore,” I grumble under my breath, watching the excitement come to her face before it promptly fades away in confusion. “But that’s not why I’m here.”
“Oh?” she questions. “Well, my door is always open for my students. What do you need?”
“To talk, I guess,” I say. “I kinda did something incredibly stupid.”
“Go on …”
I swallow past the dread sitting in my stomach. “Well, the last time we spoke, I kinda lied to you.”
Her eyes narrow in suspicion. “About?”
“You asked me about my father, and at the time, I didn’t realize that the man I knew was the same one that you were referring to.”
She gives me a warm smile as if she had known all along. “He really is.”
“Yeah,” I say, giving her an awkward smile. “But I was also Dominic Garcia’s best friend, and over the past few weeks, a lot of bullshit has come to light.” Her eyes darken at his name, it’s clear that she knows exactly who he is, but this seems like so much more than gang affiliations. This is a deep hatred that comes from something horrifying, but it’s not my business to ask, so I continue. “I was cornered by Mikhail Russo and a few of his guys in an alleyway. They branded me with their mark. He said I was one of his and will be brought into the family. At first, I was terrified because that meant turning my back on Nic, but then I discovered that Nic was the person who killed my father.”