The second block is CCC – Computing for College and Careers...AKA a giant waste of my time. The class is a self-paced computer class that I completed about two weeks ago. At this point, I consider the class a study hall because all I do is complete homework and study for upcoming tests. Somedays, I just play online games that the school hasn't blocked yet, or go on "underground" Web streaming sites and watch TV shows. 

Today, I do as much research on Destiny Prior as I possibly can. She was reported missing the night right before the party. Destiny has a history of running away, but the party still went on because she never missed a single one of her outrageous bashes. A couple of students claimed they thought they saw her, but a definite sighting hasn't been submitted. Police say that she probably wasn't there because that scream could've been anyone, although the people who knew her know that it was her. 

In a blank notebook, I write out my thoughts about the party.

 There was already a mixture of blood attained by the assaulter. How he or she got the blood, I have no idea. The twins in the blood DNA died years ago, and Deputy Enzo Kingis reportedly okay. Maybe they got the blood from a hospital...hopefully that's the case, but a darker side of me doubts that this was all done in pure and orthodox ways.

Anyways, the scream was recorded on the phone. If it was truly Destiny's scream, then the person doing all of this must've tortured her or something. Then they made their getaway on the dock and played the scream over the speaker. While everyone ran into the house, the assaulter swam across the lake and made a getaway.

Now that most of the "how" has been plotted, I need a motive.

I tap my pen against the desk and stare so hard at my notes that they might just burn. Why is someone doing this? What is there to gain other than panic and chaos and fear?

 I move on to the "who." Who likes to cause mayhem other than sadists, sociopaths, and psychos? I snort to myself. "No one." I click my pen closed and contemplate on giving up. The police can find Makai and straighten this out. Not me. What can I do? Do the research and wait for something to happen?

My phone lights up with a notification of a text.

Adelina: I think I might know something about where Makai is... 

 Well, that's certainly something. A clue to his whereabouts will certainly kick start this investigation of sorts. 

You: And? 

Adelina: 4512. I think it's an address. I'll explain what happened after school. Is your house okay? 

I remember my mom said that we were having a big dinner or something because my dad was going to be home early. Oh, crap. I also invited Aero over. Now there's a clue about Makai and Della wants to come over as well? Do I disinvite them both and stick to dinner plans, or just invite them over?

 My fingers drum a response on my smartphone.

You: I'm expecting another friend, but that's okay.

 I think for a moment.

 You: Actually, I'll invite everyone over. I think more minds on the case is better. 

Adelina: That's exactly what I was thinking.

Hopefully, my parents won't mind all these people coming over. Hopefully Aero wont minds me muddling our plans, either. He wanted to talk about the incident at the party, so maybe he'll appreciate this rather than dislike it.

 Oh, well. Guess we'll all just have to live with it. 

 The bell for the third block rings and I shut my notebook and pack it away. I head through the busy school halls and make my way to my locker. I enter my combination, and when I open my locker, I'm speechless.

Photos of the suicide lace the walls of the compartment. From the belt to the bedpost, to the body, to be looking at the investigation when I was just a child. Quickly, I slam the locker, a heavy led weight dragging me down. I take a few deep breaths before reopening my locker and ripping the photos down. I glance over my shoulder to make sure no one watches as I shove the photographs in my backpack. On the single shelf inside my locker, there's another thank you note.

It seemed kind of bland in here. I thought I'd spice it up.

My mind instantly flies to the conversation I had with Aero as we walked into school. How I said my house was always too quiet and he had said he better "spice it up." 

 Down the hall, he walks by me. I grab his arm a bit forcefully and he looks at me in shock. "What the hell, Aero?" 

"What?" he questions, flabbergasted. He runs a hand through his dark blond hair that sweeps to the side.

I shove the note against his solid chest. As he opens it and reads it, I watch his expression. From the way his blue eyes follow the words, to the way his caramel brows furrow as he reads the end, to the way his hair moves ever-so-slightly as he shakes his head. "I don't know that this is."

 Really, Aero?" I dubiously asked. "You just said this morning about how you were going to 'spice things up."

 "Where was this?" he questions, head cocked to the side. 

 "In my locker..."

Aero cranes his head to see the space recently vacant, as I took the textbooks out. "It still looks plain to me. And if I was trying to be mysterious or whatever, don't you think I'd be smart enough to not include a phrase I said less than ten hours ago?"

"There were pictures in it," I explain.

 His brow perks up and a smirk makes its way across his face. "What kind of pictures?" I push him away, flustered, and slam my locker shut. "Forget about it," I mutter as I head into my third block class that Makai also had.

"Reyna," Aero calls, grabbing my wrist and stopping me mid-stride. 

"It was a joke." I sigh. "Now isn't really a joking time." 

Aero places his hands, warm, on my shoulders. He looks at me with earnest eyes that I've never seen in anyone else before. "I know, I'm sorry. Everything's a bit off now. But3/4we'll figure it out."

"I saw you listening to my conversation earlier this morning," I confess. "You seemed angry about something." 

He sighs, a bit of the anger I saw this morning returning to his eyes. "There are a few things I want to tell you, just not here."

 "That reminds me," I bring up as Aero removes his hands from my shoulders. "I invited some other people over who also want to figure everything out."

 "Are you sure they don't just want to gossip?" Aero sceptically inquires.

"Positive," I assure. "They...we have a good incentive."

 "What's that?" 

 "Do you know Makai Keanu?"

Aero chuckles. "I'm new here, but I'd have to live under a rock not to know that kid."

"Yeah, he kind of had that effect on people," I nostalgically respond. "But he went missing after the party. Della said she had a clue as to where he might be."

"What clue?"

"She sent me a text with what she thought was an address: 4512. I don't know how she got it. She said she would explain everything in person, so invited Hanzo, Allister, and Maren is to come over as well. With all of us together, I think we can get a lot of this figured out," I finish.

 The late bell rings and I still stand in the hallway with Aero who puts a hand against the lockers just to the side of my head. Slowly, he nods. "Sounds productive. What time is everyone coming over?" 

"Around four." 

 "When are they leaving?" 

 I shrug. "Probably around eight or nine."

"Alright," Aero says. "I'll be there at three and leave around ten." With that, he turns and heads into a math class as I turn and head in, late, to my yearbook class.

 "You're late," Ms Broskovitch scowls at me.

 Ms Broskovitch is an older lady with a wrinkled face, wiry peppered hair, and glasses. "But if you go take pictures of the Mathletes, I won't count your tardy."

She thrusts a camera into my hands before I answer, knowing I'll suck it up anyways. I set my backpack full of photographs, textbooks, and homework down before I leave. Inside the photographer lanyard around my neck, and for a second, I imagine what it would be like if it was a belt and if one end were attached to a desk leg. I shake my head and clear the image from my head.

As I go through the hallway I go through everything that happened to me. Not with destiny and Makai and the party, but with only me. First, the note in the room. Then, the note and pictures were in my locker. Why would someone target me? I was never a bitch or anything. My family doesn't have any rivals like the Saylor family does. I, personally, don't have any enemies. So who is taking my friends and torturing me? 

I push back strands of my hair and enter the mathletes room with Mr Carson. In a way, life is like math. There's always complicated problems you might not always get right the first time, but every time you try it, you learn from your mistakes. And in math4/4and life, there's always an answer. There has to be.

Now, I consider myself to be pretty smart in most subjects.

 But fittingly, I suck at maths.