The next day, Shaun, Jasmine and I head to school as normal and are stopped by a huge crowed gathering by the front entrance. Fifty percent of the hoard appear to be Lincoln students and the other half, reporters.

"Holy shit. Fox News are here!" sequels Jasmin, pointing towards a white van.

"So are the police," states Shaun, gesturing towards the uniformed officers. "Which is a surprise. Don't they have donuts to eat or sumthin'?"

Most of the parking lot has been taped off and is currently being guarded by two detectives. Elliot arrives not long after with Celia, both of them just as confused as us. I manage to catch his eye and send him a silent plea of 'what the fuck?', though he's in no position to reply.

"What do you think has happened?" asks Jasmine, struggling to see past the many people.

Shaun shrugs. "Hopefully it's just precaution."

Only, we all know this isn't just precaution. They wouldn't send police officers in by the dozen as 'precaution'. They wouldn't stop students entering school premises as 'precaution'. Something major has gone down here and judging by the chills prickling my skin, it's bad.

"Would you mind answering a few questions?" asks Linda Carter, approaching our small group.

I instinctively step back, declining her offer. Thankfully, Shaun and Jasmine do too, prompting the reporter and her camera man to poach other–more willing–students. It's bizarre watching her chat to various groups, desperate for their opinion on things. For a differing perspective.

Chloe and Lewis are up ahead, quietly chatting, no doubt speculating. His arm is casually slung over her shoulder; an act of friendship for those who don't know. For those who are ignorant to their situation.

Again, I look to Elliot, keen to go to him. To converse. But I can't.

"Someone's coming," informs Jasmine, pulling my focus away from Elliot.

Mrs Jones appears at the gate–alongside Vice Principle Collins–their faces bleak. Both look as though they've been awake for hours, not a pinch of colour to their cheeks.

"Good morning, Lincoln students," addresses Collins. "As you are aware, messages were sent yesterday, addressed to Principle Wilson."

A few murmurs erupt from students up ahead.

"This is something we–as a school–are taking very seriously. We are working with Oak Valley police department to track down the source and would like to stress that we are making progress." Her demeanour suddenly changes. "Unfortunately, this collaboration comes too late for Principle Wilson who–last night–took his own life."

What the fuck?

"We are deeply saddened by this news and will not be holding classes today out of respect."

A few gasps echo around.

"Mrs Jones will be in O'Marley's coffee shop throughout today for anyone who feels they need to talk. We understand this is a shock to all of you and we encourage communication during such trying times."

Shaun instantly wraps an arm around Jasmine and I and it's good that he does. I fear fainting, otherwise.

"Myself and Detective Saunders will be holding a meeting at the community centre tonight for students and parents, wherein which we will discuss future steps with regards to your safety. Until then, take care. Look out for each other. Stay alert. Thank you."

The reporters suddenly bombard our teachers with questions, though for the most part, I tune them out. I feel lightheaded. Sick. Hours ago, Elliot and I thought he was the killer. Principle Wilson. Now, he's just another statistic, amounting to nothing; leaving behind his wife and children. But hey, at least his secret is safe. His reputation in tact.

For how long?

"Lena?"

"Huh?"

"You okay?" asks Shaun, pulling me in for a side-hug.

My phone vibrates in my pocket, sending me into further turmoil. I hold my breath and wait for others to start checking their cells, though thankfully, it doesn't happen. I'm the only one with a text and as I pull my phone out and see Elliot's name on my screen, I breathe a sigh of relief. I look up to find him staring, worry marring his face.

Elliot:
Meet at the back
of the church in 10?

Helena:
Ok.

****

****

I finally manage to get rid of Shaun and Jasmine by faking a headache and arrive at the back of the church only slightly later than planned. The snow still lays thick, crunching beneath my feet as I approach the rundown outhouse. Elliot appears from the doorway, wrapped up like a burrito in his scarf and beanie.

"C'mere," he whispers, pulling me to his chest.

I wrap my arms around his shoulders, holding on for dear life. The reality of the situation weighs me down, gripping at my throat in a bid to hinder my breathing. Elliot must notice because he suddenly pulls back and caresses my cheeks, gently so.

"You okay?" he asks, blue eyes blazing in the light of day.

I nod. "Just shocked."

"Let's get out of here," he suggests, offering me his hand.

"Where?"

"Anywhere. We need a day off. A break from reality."

I smile. "I know just the place."

An hour later, we find ourselves at Southfield's only bowling alley, sporting ridiculous shoes and unstoppable smiles. Elliot–as it turns out–is shit at bowling and loses big time. I offer to have the assistant put up the barriers but he's adamant that he'll never improve that way. It's painful to watch and in the end, I suggest getting slushies to soften the blow.

"I'm paying!" he informs, cutting in front of me. "My mom insists."

He flashes me a ten and I can't help but laugh.

"Thanks," I say, accepting my blue and red beverage.

I follow him to a corner table and sit opposite, slurping on my straw. My knee accidentally brushes his from beneath the table, neither of us attempting to fix the matter. We simply allow our bodies to touch.

"Apparently, the face you pull when suffering a brain-freeze is also the face you pull during sex."

I choke on my mouthful. "I beg your pardon?"

He laughs. "Ready?"

"For what?"

He takes a huge mouthful and closes his eyes, deliberately inducing a brain freeze. He then locks his gaze onto mine and pulls the most unflattering face, going cross-eyed in the process. His cheeks each hold a dimple and although mid brain-freeze/ orgasm, I find him greatly attractive.

"Wow."

"Was it sexy?" he asks, recovering from the ice-cold pain.

"Very," I reply. "I was especially turned on when you went cross-eyed."

He chuckles and attempts to throw a napkin at my head. "Your turn, Gallagher!"

"Okay..."

I copy his actions from earlier and close my eyes, waiting for the pain to begin. It hits full force and in doing so, all I can do is tip my head back and moan through the ordeal. It seems to last forever and when I do finally recover, I look across the table to find Elliot motionless, jaw dropped.

"What?"

"Fucking hell, Helena. You sure know how to put on a show!"

"Was it bad?"

"I've watched porn less animated."

I blush. "You watch porn?"

"Sometimes." He smirks. "Do you?"

I shake my head. "No. I read books though."

"Books?"

"Ya know? Sexy books."

His smirk returns. "Erotica?"

I roll my eyes. "Yes!"

The tension between us is easy. A little charged but certainly not awkward.

"Jack calls them one-handed books."

"Why one-handed?" I ask.

He smiles, allowing me a moment to catch up.

"One hand is for holding the book," he says. "The other is otherwise...busy."

"Oh!"

Together, we laugh and are rudely interrupted by the sudden blare of my phone.

"Ugh. It's my dad," I inform, answering the call and putting it on speaker. "Hello."

"Hey, kid. How's things?"

I glance to Elliot, who continues sipping from his drink. "Fine. You?"

"I'm good. I saw Oak Valley on the news. Shit's going down, huh?"

"You could say that."

There's a moment of silence as I wait for him to reveal his true motive. The real reason behind why he's calling.

"Is Mom around?"

"No, I'm out. Why?"

"It's been a tough month for business. I'm outta cash."

And there it is!

I sigh and rest my head in my hands, prompting Elliot to take notice.

"You can't expect her to keep bailing you out, Dad. You're not married anymore."

"Sweetheart, it's not like that. Your Mom is an investor."

I roll my eyes, making Elliot smile.

"I'll tell her you called," I offer, ready to hang up.

"Thanks. You'll call when you get into Harvard, yeah?"

I frown. "I won't be getting into Harvard."

"Baby, don't sell yourself short. Of course you will," he ensures. "You're smart!"

Elliot nudges my leg from beneath the table, an action that–by all accounts–is his way of letting me know he's here.

"Considering I didn't apply, I highly doubt it."

"You didn't?" He sounds shocked. "Where did you apply?"

"Penn."

"That's my girl."

Another eye-roll.

"Bye, Dad."

"Love you, Helena."

"Yep."

I don't bother saying it back, knowing the notion will go unnoticed. I do love him. Of course I do. He's my dad. I'm just not entirely sure he knows what it means to love someone. Or, at least someone that isn't himself.

"You okay?" asks Elliot, once my phone is safely tucked away.

"Fine. I stopped caring about his lack of interest in my life years ago."

"It still sucks," he offers, disregarding his drink to focus on me. "He's your dad. It's his job to give a shit."

I shrug. "What I lack in father-figures, my Mom more than makes up for. I'm lucky. Some people have two shit parents."

"And an aunt who hates them?"

I offer him a sad smile and take hold of his hand. "Exactly."

"He died, by the way."

"Who?"

"My dad. He's not missed."

I say nothing.

"Does that makes me a bastard?" he asks.

"Not at all," I reply, caressing his knuckles. "I think it makes you brave."

"I've never been called that before."

I squeeze his fingers. "You've never been friends with me before."

"And whose fault is that?" he sasses.

"Mine." Of course it is. "I was so focused on hating you that I never thought to get to know the guy behind the leather jackets and amazing eyes."

He tuts. "Amazing eyes, huh?"

I flick him on the shoulder, scolding his selective hearing. "I wish it hadn't taken us this long."

"Me too."

"I wish I made more of an effort with you when you were dating Jasmine. I wish I took the time to get to know you."

"You're doing it now," he ensures, blinding me with that smile of his.

"Better late than never," I offer, smiling.

He takes hold of his half empty slushie cup and thrusts it mid air, waiting for me to do the same.

"To getting to know each other and shitty parents!" he sings. "Except Perrie. She's great."

I laugh. "Cheers!"

****

Another day, another death...

Hope you guys are enjoying it ;)