Chapter 2 2| Wrong Guy Between Us

"Hi," Claire greeted me quietly at my locker. "Hi, how are you today?" I asked as I opened my locker and took out books for my first class. "Better than yesterday." "Good, you'll be more better at the end of the day," I said, opening a book. She frowned at me, "Brooke, I don't think we should do it. I mean, let's just leave him alone," I closed my book and glared at her. "Claire, we can't do that. It's not much. He won't get that hurt." She looked uncertainly at me. "Well, if you don't want to help me, it's okay. I can do it by myself." "No, I'll help," She said, still appearing unsure about it. "Good. And don't be scared. No one will know it was us," I said before walking away to my class. We were in the cafeteria. I was sitting with my group of friends, Claire, Tyler, Josh and Darren. "Hey girls, what are you talking about?" Tyler asked us. We all were seated at a table. Claire and I were discussing our plan while Tyler, Josh and Darren were talking about an upcoming party that Darren was throwing. "Umm...nothing," I said. It was the best if they didn't know what we were going to do. If they knew they would definitely come with us and spoil our plan. "Well, are you going to come to my party? It's next week," Darren asked us, looking at me hopefully. "I hate parties but yeah, I'm coming, and Claire too," I told him. "Brooke, I can't come. I don't want to," Claire whispered to me. "Shut up. You have to. Show Jesse that you no longer cry over him and he was nothing in your life." "He's going to be there?" "Of course. The whole school comes to Darren's party." "Then I definitely won't come. What if he knows it was us who did what we are going to do to him today?" "He won't know. He's not that smart. Claire, please. Don't ruin this. Come to the party, for me?" I gave her my best puppy eyes. It usually worked on her. "Don't give me that look." I pouted. "You won't do this little thing for your best friend?" Claire looked guiltily at me. "Fine, I'll come." A wide grin formed on my face. "Good." There were still four classes to go before school ended. I had Chemistry, Physics, English and Math. Chemistry was my favorite subject and I never got below A. Today we had a test. I was pretty sure I'd do great in it. I had studied for it. Even if I wouldn't have, I think I would still do good. English and Math went in a blur. I was thankful for that. Math equaled to dying for me. And I was too young to die. I was very weak in Math as I couldn't seem to get the formulas and equations in my head. There was still half an hour remaining for Math to end but I just couldn't take it anymore. I fell asleep during class and Ms. Collins had to shout at me to wake me up. ~ "Are you sure we should do this?" Claire asked. She looked so nervous as if she was about to commit a crime. School was over and we were at the building which was having a repaint. No one was around. "Of course, Claire. It's not like we're going to kill him, although that would be much better. Don't worry, we're doing the right thing," I reassured her. She nodded and sighed, "I wish he hadn't done that to me." She sighed sadly and I knew five more minutes of her thinking over this and she was sure to burst into tears. "Oh come on, crybaby. He is such a douche bag. Do you want him to do what he did to you to other girls?" "Of course not. And don't call me a crybaby because I'm not." Claire narrowed her eyes at me. "Yeah, yeah whatever." We spotted the paint buckets kept at the back of the building. Making sure no one saw us, I quickly grabbed a blue paint bucket. I saw some wooden rods lying beside it and an idea popped into my mind. "Are you mad?! Are you trying to send him to a hospital?" Claire freaked out when I updated her with the additions to our plan. "No! I'm not trying to kill him, although I would love to. He wouldn't know it was us. We'll be wearing a scarf! He wouldn't have any idea that it was us," She still didn't look convinced. "I'll do the beating part, you do the paint part, okay?" She looked at me for a minute as if contemplating the situation, "Fine! But if we get caught and suspended, you're responsible for that!" "Yeah, okay. I'll be responsible," I waved it off. We crept into the bushes with the paint and the rods. If someone were to see us, they'd be thinking we had gone mad. I made a mental note to never include Claire in revenge plans. As we hid in the bushes of the parking lot near to Jesse's bike, Claire complained about ants and spiders. She complained about her hair getting caught in the bushes. She irritated the hell out of me and I was tempted to shove the rod in my hand down her throat. "Shut up, Claire!" I whisper yelled at her as I saw (through the bushes where there were a lot of creepy insects!) a pair of legs approaching Jesse's bike. I couldn't see his face as I didn't want Jesse to see me hiding in the bushes with Claire, ready to ambush him. As soon as he got close enough to us, I nudged Claire to do it. Her eyes widened and she hesitated. No! She would ruin the plan like this. I glared at her before snatching the bucket out of her and running straight at Jesse. He had his back turned to me and as soon as I got close enough without him suspecting, threw the blue paint in it all over him. He let out a surprised girly yelp as the blue paint covered his hair, messing up his leather jacket and dripped down to his jeans. He was about to turn but I quickly covered my face with a scarf. I threw the remaining paint in the bucket at him straight at his face and he stumbled back before falling flat on the road. He groaned in pain and I was glad there was no one around. I took the rod and glared at him. "You!" I pointed the rod at his head. "Are a disgrace to humans! You're a sex addicted dickwad!" I stated before hitting his arm with the rod with not as much force as I would have liked. I heard Claire jump out of the bushes and run towards me. I knew she was going to stop me from hitting him, so I started hitting him on the back harder. A very girlish scream escaped his lips and he attempted to get up but I hit him again and he fell down. "You filthy pig!" I spat out at him. He still hadn't turned his ugly face at me. Nor did I wanted him to. I was so angry that I did nothing but continued to hit him. This didn't feel enough. If I could, I would have killed this player. I felt an arm grabbing mine in a tight hold because of which I wasn't able to hit him anymore. I looked at Claire who looked shocked and beyond scared. I was expecting her to do a happy dance or something. But instead she was frozen in her position. "Doesn't he look like a big smurf?" I chuckled evilly. "Brooke! It's not him!" She exclaimed. "What?" I asked confusedly, my head snapping to look at her as I feverishly prayed that whatever that I just heard was just a stupid figment of my messed up imagination. "It's not Jesse! He has blonde hair! This one has black hair!" I looked back at the figure lying on the road. He had black hair. Oh crap! How did I not see that?! My hands began shaking and the rod fell out of my hands as I bent over the figure. I shook his shoulder but he didn't move. "Oh God! You k-killed him!" Claire cried out in horror. "What? No! I didn't!" I said quickly. "He can't die! I didn't hit him that hard!" I said as I shook him with more force. I gulped when he didn't move. I stood up and looked at Claire. She had a horrified expression on her face, much like mine. "Claire, what do I do now?" She looked at me and back at the figure before gasping. In an instant I felt something snake around my legs and pull at it which caused me to fall down. I squealed as I felt the body move beside me. My butt hit the ground and I groaned. In a second, I was struggling to get on my feet and run for my life. I looked around but Claire was no where to be seen. That traitor! She left me! She's so dead! I felt a hand grab my arm and pull me down again. I was too terrified to see who it was. What if he drags me to a mountain and buries me alive? I heard the person curse and I turned my head to look at him. My mouth popped open as I recognized him. Brian Smith. The good boy of our school. The apple of most of the teachers eyes. The smart one in our school of impossibly dumb people. The only one who doesn't have a record of any bad behavior. I gulped. So what if he's the good boy? What if he's secretly a murderer? If I stayed with him for one more minute, I might possibly wet my pants. I tried to rip my arm from his hold but he held on to it tightly. He managed to stand up somehow whereas I was still on the ground. He glared down at me, grabbing my arm in a blood circulation cutting hold and pulled me to my feet roughly. "Who the hell do you think you are?" He shouted. Yep, he's definitely a murderer behind the good boy fa?ade. "I don't think I know you enough to give you a reason to do that!" I gulped, "I'm sorry. It was a mistake," Was all I could get out of my throat. I was going to be in some serious crap.