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“So, you’re saying I’m screwed?”
“I’m saying you should have listened to me when I said I could get you out.”
His threat lingers in the air, but it doesn’t faze me. I’m the one who put myself in this position, and I wouldn’t have done it if I was going to run away scared. I don’t have time for that.
12
Like yesterday, Oscar meets me at the front of the school. The crowd parts for him as he makes his way to the sleek black car. Magnum and I haven’t spoken the entire trip here. There’s so much he already knows that I’m scared to say anything more that he can use against me. He picks up on the littlest things, so I’ve done nothing but stare out the window the whole drive. Now, I’m preoccupied again as Oscar Drego swaggers his way across the sidewalk. He tilts his head to the side as if he’s asking what the hell I’m still doing in the car, and I realize I could be getting out, but I was too distracted. By him. And his cocksure attitude.
I push the door open, but before I get out, Mag asks, “I’ll pick you up after? Take you guys to the gym?”
“Yeah,” I say distractedly. I even remembered to bring gym clothes today. It’s practically the only thing in my backpack besides a notebook and a pen. Johnny was right when he called school in the Heights a farce.
I go to get out, but Magnum speaks again. His voice is low, making me strain to hear. I even turn toward him to watch his lips move. “Remember what I said about people watching.” He drags his gaze to Oscar and then back to me. “Just be careful.”
“I will.” My throat is suddenly dry because I know I didn’t even handle myself well already this morning. As soon as I saw Oscar, all rational thought went out the window, and I practically drooled all over myself.
Oscar leans into the car, flashing a smile at me. “What’s up, Mag? Princess and I are ready for another intellectually stimulating day at Rawley Heights High.”
“I bet,” Mag says. “I’m sure nothing’s changed.”
Oscar moves back so I can get out. We keep an appropriate distance between us as we head to the front entrance. Sneaking a glance over my shoulder, I ask, “Mag went to school here?”
“Born and raised. You can’t tell?”
I shake my head. Honestly, he looks a little squeaky clean for the Heights. It must be his security persona because I can’t see him walking the halls of this school, acting like most of the guys my age.
“Trust me. You do not want to fuck with him. Why do you think he’s top security dog? They don’t just hand that position to anybody.”
I cast a glance over my shoulder once more to find Magnum still where we left him. He’s pitched forward in his seat, watching us as we make our way past security. His face is blank, serious. He moves his gaze to mine, and it doesn’t waver until Oscar and I are ushered past the metal detectors and into the shitty school.
As soon as we get past that, trouble waits for us. Today, there aren’t just other students walking the halls, I also see the guy who has the nerve to call himself our principal. Oscar and I skirt around him while he has his back to us, but just as we’re about to escape unnoticed, the figure he’s talking to comes into view.
“Son of a bitch,” Oscar curses under his breath.
My sentiments exactly. Detective Reynolds is chatting up the principal. Oscar and I both try to duck our heads, but it’s too late. He’s already seen us. “Oscar Drego and Miss Samson. Just who I wanted to see.”
“Save it,” Oscar says. He’s perfected that bored as fuck voice like he looks down at anyone attempting to talk to him. “We’re not talking to you.”
“No?” the detective asks. A glint lights his eyes. “Actually, you, we’re taking downtown. It’s Miss Samson we’re talking to.”
Oscar laughs. The sound is so incredulous and laced with humor that a sliver of apprehension races up my spine. I peek over at Oscar. Dark, indignant eyes latch onto the detective’s. “What is it this time?”
Detective Reynolds smooths out his tie. Watching him and Oscar respond to one another is like watching a battle of who can look the least affected. “Someone pulled away from a convenience store early this morning without paying for gas. Thief matches your description.”
Oscar shakes his head. He turns toward me while the sea of students go out and around us. They act like they’re not listening, but they are. This is juicy gossip to them. “Detective Reynolds just wants a way to get to you.”
“Detective,” the principal finally says. “You can’t just come in here and—”
Reynolds raises a hand. “We know you’re in the Heights Crew’s pockets. Shut it.”
A uniformed cop strides into the school. He reaches around his back and brings out a pair of cuffs that glimmer under the fluorescent lights. “Turn, Drego,” Detective Reynolds instructs. “You know the drill.”
I look on, helplessly. Oscar turns, placing his hands behind his back. He gives me a wink, but I can tell he’s pissed. How many times has this happened to him? How manyunfoundedtimes?Go, he mouths. His gaze quickly portrays panic now that he’s not putting on a show for everyone.Now.
I take another look of him being handcuffed; my feet rooted in place. I grew up to respect police, and honestly, I am on the wrong side here. But not Oscar. Oscar’s on the right side. Using this bullshit about him stealing gas just to get me alone is wrong.
Oscar gives me another pleading look, so this time, I do spin on my heel and merge with the crowd.