-Theo-

Tuesday morning was foggy, just like my mind. I hadn't slept much during the night, and the reason for that was Beau. I'd almost called him a couple of times, but I didn't have the guts to press the call button on my phone. I'd written a few messages too, but instead of sending them to him, I ended up deleting them.

By the time I was ready to leave for school, I was a complete mess. I wanted to see Beau, but at the same time, I was too afraid to see him. I had so many things to say to him, but I didn't want to confront him. I wanted to be with him, but I feared he was just messing with me.

"What should I do?" I asked my reflection in the mirror of my bathroom.

I really wished I had someone to talk to about it. I tried to picture a world where I could go to my mom, or at least to my dad, and ask for advice. That would've been great – to have someone to talk to. I didn't even have friends who'd listen to me.

I sighed and turned away from the mirror and walked out of the bathroom. I'd decided to give Beau a second chance. He had seemed sincere when he asked for my forgiveness. And he kissed me, so he didn't hate me. Everything was messed up, but I wanted to forgive him. I didn't want to be alone, lonely and sad all the time, and getting Beau back was more than I could ever have asked for.

So, maybe I was just overthinking. Shit happened, but it didn't mean things couldn't be fixed. I wanted to get over it, and the best way to do that was to find Beau and talk with him. That was what I should do.

And that was what I decided to do.

Thirty minutes later, when I arrived at school, I couldn't see Beau's car anywhere. I was early as usual, so I hid behind the bushes next to the parking lot to wait for him. As the minutes passed, I started feeling better and even confident about my decision.

I almost smiled when I remembered the kiss. Then I realized it had been my first kiss. I almost forgot to breathe when I thought about it. Beau had been my first kiss! A week ago, I was sure he wouldn't even look in my direction ever again. The scariest part was that I was really happy about it. It was a strange feeling after so many months of feeling only despair. I wasn't supposed to be happy. I didn't deserve that, and surely someone would steal that happiness from me.

"Stop," I whispered to myself.

I could feel the bad, dark thoughts rising inside me. I didn't want to feel like that; I didn't want to think like that. Beau wanted me back! He really did. Or did he...?

Thankfully, I saw a glimpse of his car at that moment. I really hated how insecure I was, and just seeing his white car made me feel a lot better. I didn't want to be alone with my thoughts a second longer.

I stood up when Beau parked his car and started to crawl out from behind the thick bushes. I was almost out when I saw Beau standing up. He turned to look towards me with a smile on his face. I thought he had seen me, and I almost waved at him.

Almost.

"Hey, girl!" Beau cooed, and I frowned, turning to look in the same direction he was.

There was a blond girl walking towards him in high heels and a way too short skirt. I couldn't remember her name at that exact moment.

"Hey, baby!" the girl replied brightly and ran the last steps to him.

And they kissed.

I sat back down – no, I collapsed down on the ground. Beau had a girlfriend. I should've known that. I turned to look at them, but they were already walking towards the school side by side, their arms wrapped around each other.

The familiar emptiness almost drowned me when it washed over me. I was so utterly shocked that I couldn't even cry. All I could think of was how pathetically ridiculous and stupid I had been for thinking that Beau had actually meant everything he had said and done the day before.

"I knew it..." I muttered when the tears finally came. "I'm not supposed to be happy."

The bell rang soon after, but I couldn't stand up. I couldn't go to the classes and pretend my life was worth living. It definitely wasn't. I had nothing and no one, and every time I felt like I could actually go through with my life, someone or something reminded me I was nothing more than rotting filth that didn't even deserve to die. I deserved something much more than death – dying was too easy for someone like me. For a disgusting freak like me.

"So you're coming or what?"

I stopped breathing when I heard Deon's voice right next to me. I turned to look up and saw him leaning against the fence with a smoke between his lips. He looked down at me, and that was the moment when I realized I wasn't hidden from the view. People in the parking lot could see me just fine, and I wondered how many had noticed me crying behind the branches.

"W-what?" I sniffed and hurried to wipe my tears away.

"Are you going to stay here?" Deon said. "The classes are starting."

"I'm not going," I muttered and grabbed my bag.

"Good, I need your help," Deon said and took a step towards the parking lot.

"I can't – I need to be somewhere..." I tried telling him, and he stopped to give me an angry glance.

"That's bullshit. Don't lie to me, it pisses me off," Deon said. "Are you coming?"

"N-no," I said and shivered when he raised his eyebrows at me. "I t-told y-you... that..."

Deon sighed and rolled his eyes. "Stop whining and get your ass over here. You're coming with me."

He must have seen Beau and the blonde girl. Why couldn't Deon see the immense pain I was in? Why was he such a jerk to me?

"Why can't you just leave me alone?!" I yelled at him with a cracking voice.

"You made a deal with me," Deon said nonchalantly. "Remember?"

"Well it's over now!" I yelled and stood up. I was so angry at him. I'd never been so angry before. "I'm done! You hear me? Done! I don't want to have anything to do..." I trailed off and gasped for air when another wave of pain hit me.

Why did it hurt so much? Why did Beau do such a thing to me? Why couldn't I just be happy?

Deon turned around and walked back to me. I stared at him defiantly, almost hoping he'd beat me to death, and the tears just kept rolling down on my cheeks. I was so done with everything. I didn't want to be alive anymore.

"It's about that douchebag, right?" Deon asked quietly. "Beau?"

I glared at him without saying a word. He had no right to call Beau that, but I lost my courage when he stopped right in front of me, looking at me with a furious frown on his face.

"If it helps, I used to date that girl," he said. "Sabrina."

Sabrina... That was the name of Beau's... Girlfriend.

"So?" I hissed at him.

"She cheats. A lot," Deon said with a shrug.

"Am I supposed to feel bad for you?" I asked, refusing to let my anger fade away.

Deon laughed humorlessly. "Trust me, I'm sick and tired of people feeling bad for me. All I'm saying is that Beau is either the one she's cheating on, or the one she's cheating on somebody else with. Not exactly a healthy relationship."

"I don't care," I muttered and pushed past him without giving him a second look.

"Fine. You can go and cry your eyes out, and kill yourself over that asshole. Or..." Deon spoke, and I hated myself for it, but I stopped and waited to hear what the other option was. "We could go get some real coffee. The shit they serve here is hardly coffee. I can buy you something too."

"I don't want anything from you," I said and continued walking.

"I have some vodka too," Deon shouted after me, and I stopped.

"You shouldn't be shouting that in the middle of the schoolyard, you know?" I told him.

"Your choice. I like to think I'm a better option than suicide," Deon said.

"Why do you think I'd kill myself?" I asked angrily and turned around to face him.

"So you're not going to do that?" Deon asked with a disbelieving look in his eyes.

"Of course not," I grunted, even though killing myself was exactly what I was planning to do.

"Great! Then you can help me out with something," Deon smirked, walked to me and grabbed my hand before I could even form a thought. "I'll buy you an ice cream in return."

"I'm not–" I tried to object, but he silenced me.

"Theo," he sighed and turned to look at me. "I don't like people. I really don't, okay? I don't care about anyone."

"So?" I said and yanked my hand free.

"So do you want that ice cream or not?" he asked and focused his dark eyes on mine.

I stared at him in confusion. What did that have to do with him hating everyone? When I didn't answer him, he shook his head and continued walking to his car. I stared after him, trying to figure him out, but I couldn't.

"I bet you like strawberry ice cream," he said over his shoulder.

Or... Was he trying to say he was worried about me? That he didn't want me to kill myself?

"I do," I said quietly, taking a step toward his car. Then another one. "It's my favorite."

"Like I care," he said when he stopped next to his car and opened the door for me.

"What do you want me to do?" I asked when I stopped next to him.

"Just get in the car," he smirked.

I glared at him suspiciously, but ended up sitting in his car. He closed the door for me and walked around the car to his seat. I kept my eyes on him, wondering why he hated people so much. And why I seemed to be an exception.

"Thanks," I said quietly when he was turning on the engine.

Deon looked at me from the corner of his eye and muttered, "It's just ice cream..."

I almost laughed at his words. I wasn't foolish enough to actually do that, so I turned my head away from him and let the smile emerge on my lips. He knew what I meant. I wanted to ask why he bothered with me, but he'd only get angry at me, like he had the day before. I didn't even care – I was just glad he had stopped me.

"I decided to give him a second chance," I said out loud. "He fooled me."

"Why would anyone give him another chance after what he did?" Deon said with a snort.

"I know... I'm just stupid," I said, my smile fading away.

We were silent for a moment. I stared at the foggy streets passing us by while Deon drove. I knew he didn't care about my thoughts, and he wasn't someone I could talk to about anything.

"She dumped me," Deon said suddenly, and I turned to look at him in surprise.

"Sabrina?" I said, and he nodded.

"I'd give her another chance," he said quietly. "People are stupid."

"You still like her?" I asked.

Deon didn't answer me, but I could tell he still was in love with her.

"Why are you skipping school today?" I asked.

"Why are you?" Deon asked instead of answering.

Because of Beau. That was my answer. Then I realized maybe Sabrina was his answer. I wondered if it hurt him as much as it had hurt me to see them kiss.

"So where are we going?" I asked to change the subject. I really didn't want to think about Beau or how idiotic it had been for me to trust him.

"You'll see," Deon said and grabbed his phone.

"You shouldn't use the phone when you're driving," I said with a frown.

"Says the kid who was going to kill himself just a moment ago," Deon muttered while typing something.

"I wasn't going to kill myself," I said sharply and continued hastily, "I don't care about myself. You might kill someone else when you're not paying attention!"

Deon rolled his eyes, but he did pull over. I sighed in relief and looked out again while Deon continued typing something. The fog was subsiding, but I still couldn't see the rooftops of the tallest buildings. We were clearly heading to the center of the city – to the best coffee shops.

Or so I thought.

"Okay, so, I do need you to do something for me," Deon said when he was done typing. "There's a guy who has something for me, but I can't go get it myself."

"What? Why?" I asked. "What is it?"

Deon just smiled at me when he continued driving without explaining anything.

"Deon? What is it? Why can't you get it yourself?" I asked, starting to feel worried all of a sudden.

"Let's just say I'm in enough trouble as it is, and I can't afford to get caught. He's going to hand you a backpack, and you're going to take it. You don't look at what's inside, and you bring it straight to me, got it? And you have to act natural. If we get caught..." he trailed off, his look turning serious.

"Is there... Is there... drugs?" I asked shakily.

Deon looked at me with a stern look in his eyes. "You don't want to know. And do not look in the bag. That would be too suspicious."

I gulped hard. "I – I don't want... want to be a-any part of that..." I muttered.

"We have a deal, remember? I can't be seen anywhere near him, and you're the only one I can ask to do this," Deon said. "I promise, nothing bad will happen to you if you don't act suspiciously. You just go to his car, take the bag, thank him, and walk away, you hear me? Pretend that he's your dad who's bringing your schoolbag to you."

"You... why me?" I asked. "I don't want to..."

"Don't be such a wuss. It's just a bag," Deon said.

"Filled with drugs!" I said in fear. "Why are you even dealing with those guys! You shouldn't be messing with drugs!"

"I need to," Deon said ominously.

"But why?" I asked, trying to make him understand I didn't want to have anything to do with drugs.

"Don't ask questions," he said. "We're here. He should be here in ten minutes. I need to drive away, so you'll just have to wait for him all by yourself. He's driving a black Mercedes. He knows to look for you, so stand somewhere where he can stop his car. And remember, take the bag and start walking. See that coffee shop? I'll be waiting for you there," he said and pointed at the other side of the street.

"But – Deon! No! I can't!" I tried to object, but he squinted his eyes.

"I have no one else to ask for this. I will repay you, if we succeed," he said. "Now go and remember what I told you. Don't look suspicious!"

I stared at him with wide eyes. This wasn't happening! I'd heard the rumors about Deon. He disappeared for days and when he returned, he looked like crap, like he'd been partying too hard for a whole week. People said he was meddling with pretty illegal things in his free time, and apparently those rumors were true!

If I had known that, I wouldn't have made the deal with him in the first place! I was so, so screwed this time.

"Just go," Deon said when I couldn't move. "It'll be fine."

I swallowed hard and opened the door. I wondered how mad he'd get if I tried to run away from him. Then I realized that if he was meddling with drugs, he was probably a dangerous person. Someone I definitely did not want to piss off. No one messed with him without getting punished – I had seen that with my own eyes!

"Oh crap..." I whispered with a tiny voice after closing the door, and he couldn't hear me anymore.

I was in deep shit, I'd known that the moment I met him. I understood why he bothered with me; I was an easy prey for a guy like him. I had no choice but to obey him. I was weak, and I needed help, and that was why he made the deal with me!

"This isn't happening..." I was almost hyperventilating by now.

Deon drove off, but I knew he'd be watching me. He'd beat me up if I tried to run away. I just stood there for a minute, shivering and fighting back my urge to start crying again. If I got caught with a bag full of drugs, my whole life would be ruined!

I trusted the wrong person again. Why did all these things keep happening to me?

I noticed people were staring at me, so I started walking towards the intersection where the guy was supposed to meet me. I wished really hard the guy wouldn't show up. My whole life seemed to depend on it. I kept looking for anything unusual while trying not to seem suspicious at the same time. I tried to see if there were any cops or anyone who could be a cop in disguise.

I felt like a thousand sets of eyes were watching my every move.

And then I arrived at the intersection. There was an empty space on the side of the road, and I walked closer to it. My whole body was stiff with fear, and I felt like I had a neon sign above me, letting everyone know I was doing something very wrong.

Seconds felt like minutes, and minutes felt like years. I broke into a sweat and it was hard to breathe. The streets were quiet and there weren't too many people around, but I still felt claustrophobic. Every loud noise made me jump, and I almost ran away when I heard the police sirens somewhere deeper in the city. They were moving away from me, so I stayed put.

I was more afraid of Deon than getting caught. If I did get caught, I could always tell the cops that I was forced to do it. Maybe they would understand me, or at least be gentle with me if I told them about Deon.

And then I saw it. The black Mercedes.

The driver stopped the car next to me and opened his window.

"Are you Theo?" the middle-aged man asked.

"Y-yes," I nodded hesitantly.

The man didn't look like a criminal. He was around his forties; he had thin, pale-brown hair and kind eyes, and he was wearing khaki-pants and a polo shirt with blue and white stripes on it. He looked like a soccer dad.

"Here's the bag," the man said and gave me the black backpack. "You'll take this straight to him, right?"

"Y-yes, sir," I said when I took the bag.

"Okay, good. Tell him I said hi," the man said. "I need to hurry now. Thanks for taking care of this."

"N-no problem," I stammered and tried to smile to look more natural.

The man nodded and closed the window before he drove off. I stared after him for a moment and then turned my attention to the bag. It was heavy, and so full that the zipper looked like it was about to break at any second. A bag full of drugs.

When I heaved it up on my shoulder, I could hear a light sound of pills rattling inside their bottles, and I gulped again. When I started walking towards the coffee shop, I tried to keep my steps light, so the drugs wouldn't make any noises. I must've looked weird because people seemed to stare at me. Or maybe they knew what I was doing? Did I look like a criminal already?

Once I reached the door of the coffee shop, my heart felt like it was exploding from the anxiety and fear. I stepped inside, expecting to get tackled by a bunch of cops, but the small cafe had only a few customers. One of them was Deon, sipping his coffee. I walked straight to him and tossed the bag to his feet.

"Our deal is off," I said shakily.

I didn't care how he'd react. I didn't care if he beat me to death. I never wanted to do that ever again, and I definitely did not want to have any part in his illegal business.

"Did he suspect anything?" Deon asked, taking the bag.

"He didn't – what?" I asked. "Why would he suspect anything?"

"Oh," Deon smirked and put the bag away. "I forgot to tell you he's my dad."

"Your – what?" I asked in a great confusion.

"Yeah, I spent the weekend at his place, but I forgot my bag there," he shrugged. "There's some books I need for school."

"You... What?" I asked again. I was having a hard time understanding what he was talking about. "You said there were drugs! I heard them!"

"Keep your voice down, or people think we're doing something illegal," Deon said, nudging his head towards the other customers. "There are drugs in the bag," he continued and lifted the bag on the seat next to his before opening it.

There were clothes and schoolbooks in the bag! Deon shoved his hand deeper inside it, pulled a white bottle of pills from it, and tossed it to me.

"These are... Antihistamines?" I said with a frown.

"Yeah. My dad has cats, but I'm allergic to them," Deon shrugged. "Sit down. They'll bring your ice cream soon."

I sat down on the empty seat, staring at the bottle of pills.

"You... You played me!" I said and looked up at him. "I thought – I thought...! I was scared shitless!"

"The look on your face was priceless," Deon chuckled. "Deserves you right for thinking I could actually do that to someone. Do I look like a criminal to you?"

I stared at his bad boy looks in disbelief. "Yes!"

"That hurt my feelings," Deon said with a serious look in his eyes.

"Oh... Sorry..." I muttered, feeling bad about it.

"I'm just kidding," he laughed. "I don't give a shit what you think of me."

I closed my eyes and bit my tongue in frustration. "You are horrible. You know that?"

"Like I care," he chuckled.

I shook my head and opened my eyes. The waitress was walking towards us with a big bowl of ice cream in her hands. She placed it in front of me and gave Deon a smile before walking away.

I stared at the dessert. It consisted of three big scoops of strawberry ice cream, real strawberries, whipped cream and chocolate chips. It was the biggest dessert I'd ever seen. Part of me wanted to thank Deon for buying it for me, but the majority of me was still pissed at him.

"Why couldn't you just go get the damn bag yourself?" I asked, grabbing the spoon.

"Because he thinks I'm at school. He'll throw a fit if he finds out I skipped classes again. He'd call my mom and she would throw another fit and ground me for the rest of my life," Deon explained.

"Why didn't you go get it after school?" I asked in annoyance.

"Because he's leaving for a week-long seminar," Deon said. "He did offer to bring it to my mom's, but this was much funnier," he smirked.

"You're just... You're so horrible," I sighed.

"You have to admit it, I got you really good," he chuckled. "I should be an actor."

"Definitely," I snapped sarcastically.

He just laughed and took a sip of his coffee. We were silent for a moment while I ate my reward. It tasted really good, and I started to feel better. I should've seen it coming. Deon was a prankster, and I'd been too eager to think badly of him just because people kept spreading mean rumors about him. I wasn't any better than the rest of them.

"So... Your parents are divorced?" I asked.

"Yeah. They are still friends though," Deon explained. "They didn't want to force their relationship, and I get that – they are both happier now."

Even though he talked like it didn't bother him, I could tell that it actually did bother him.

"At least they're both alive," I muttered.

"Yeah. Dad lives close, so I get to see him often. I got nothing to complain," he said and hesitated for a moment before he continued, "I heard your mom passed away."

"It was years ago," I murmured. "Five days before my birthday..."

"Now that's just shitty," Deon said empathetically. I guess that was his way to say his condolences. I shrugged and continued eating my ice cream. I didn't feel like talking about my mom, so I tried to think of something else to say.

"That was a good prank," I said.

"That's what I thought," he chuckled, and I had to smile too.

"Jerk," I muttered, trying to hide my smile from him.

"Bitch," he laughed.

It was funny how a guy who hated everyone could make me feel better. I wasn't even that upset about Beau anymore. I was still hurt by his stunt, but I felt better, and that was because of Deon. Maybe we were friends. At least I wanted to believe so. I really wanted to smack the guy for making me believe I was doing something illegal, but I had to admit that being around him made me feel stronger – and better about myself.