Author's note: Hi guys! Thank you all again for your support and love for this story! This chapter is kind of short, so I decided to post chapters 8 and 9 today. There isn't too much Al, but there is more Al in chapter ten! Hang in there, there will be more Alis moments to come!

Love always,

Allison

Chapter Eight

I love Saturdays because I can sleep in. I went to bed at ten thirty last night and woke up at eight. I have to get up at six every morning on school nights and I have church on Sunday. I don't mind church, but I'm not overly religious. My father is a religious man, but tolerates those who are not.

I finally decide to get out of bed and take a quick shower before I go downstairs for breakfast. I make a quick bowl of cereal and when I'm done, wash my dishes in the sink and then load them in the dishwasher.

My parents have left for work already and Caleb is reading some textbook for a class I don't have. I eye the clock and it is now a quarter to nine. I have plans to go out, but I guess I can wait a while. I have all day. There's no need to hurry.

I sit down and do some psychology homework until nine thirty when my phone goes off. It is a text from Christina.

What are you doing today?

I was going to the bookstore. Do you want to come?

A few seconds later, Christina replies with Yes!

I laugh to myself. I shove my phone in my pocket. I close my notebook, get off the couch and head upstairs to drop it off in my room. I pull my hair back into a ponytail and grab a light sweater. I remove my ratty purse from the closet and check to make sure there is money inside. I head downstairs and double check I have my keys in my purse.

"I'm going to the mall with Christina," I call to Caleb.

"Okay, have fun." He doesn't look up from his book. I continue of my way outside. It's sunny out; good thing I remembered my sunglasses. I lock the door and place them over my eyes. It lightly blocks the bright sun. Maybe I should buy new ones while I'm out today.

Over text, I learned Christina and I live close to each other. I walk a few blocks to the east and one south of my house. She said she'd be ready to go, and when I walk by her house, she is. She is sitting on the porch with a woman and young girl, the latter must be her sister.

"Hey!" she says.

"Hey." I walk up to her house, taking one step onto the stairs leading to the porch. In excitement, Christina drags me by the hand to the top.

"This is my mom, Stephanie, and my sister Rose." I smile politely without saying a word. "This is my friend Beatrice." Stephanie sets the needlepoint she is working on to the side. She smiles a small grin and extends her hand for me to shake. I've always been incredibly introverted and antisocial and don't know how to shake hands well. I hope I do alright. Rose doesn't bother shaking my hand. She looks at me with a questioning expression, but she must decide I'm okay when she smiles similarly to her mother.

"It's nice to meet you," Christina's mom says.

"It's nice to meet you too." Christina tells me she's ready to go and drags me back down the stairs. As I nearly trip over my feet on the way down, I hear barking. It must be her dog.

"You have a dog?" I say. Christina looks at me and smiles.

"Yep. His name is Chunker." On our way to the mall-that's where we agreed to go-Chris tells me a story about how Chunker ate a turkey off the counter one evening. She thought it was hilarious and started laughing at her own story, I on the other hand start laughing because her laughter is contagious. After keeping to myself for so many years, it is nice to be around outgoing people, to hear them laugh.

When we get to the mall, we start by going to the bookstore first. I have to search fairly hard before finding the book Al challenged me to read. I look at the back of the book for a summary. It says it's a about a girl in high school that gets sucked into some kind of blackmail scheme. That sounds interesting.

"I was thinking about what you said yesterday," Chris says after I buy the book and we had back out into the mall.

"About what?" I ask, a little distracted by the Cinnabon.

"The thing with Al yesterday." Al's name snaps me out of my food reverie.

"What about it?" Instead of a smile, which I am expecting from Chris, she gives me a very serious look. There's no trace of a smile dancing on her lips. Her eyes are slightly narrowed.

"He stood up to Peter for you. No one ever does that."

"Why?" Peter's just a bully. He had to have been stood up to before.

"He's crazy," Chris says. "Last year, Peter and Edward tried out for JV football. Edward beat Peter by a landslide and Peter didn't even make the team. This didn't bode well with Peter who is used to getting whatever he wants. I'm sure you've heard about Edward if you haven't met him yet."

"I know Edward. He's in my English class."

"Well then, you know about the accident. Very quick-to-die rumors around the school say that Peter stabbed him and that's why he has to wear the eyepatch. There was no physical evidence against Peter, so he was never arrested, and it wasn't on school property. THere's nothing they can do."

"So Edward just did nothing? Does nobody believe him?" Christina's serious expression turns graver and her face becomes tinted with a slight shade of green.

"He wasn't awake," she whispers. I try not to think about what that was like. "No one talks about that at school because they're too afraid Peter will stab them too. Edward's lucky he's not dead."

I can't even begin to imagine how utterly horrendous it would be to lose a child, but losing a child to murder? That would be the worst. I try to shake off the thought and focus on the fact that Edward is still alive, thankfully.

"All I'm saying is," Christina continues, "Al must care a great deal about you to stand up to Peter."

That's what Peter meant when he said he could give Al something to be scared of. My stomach turns at the thought again and instantly the Cinnabon does not sound appetizing anymore. I was right when I accused Peter of being able to kill Al, and all he did was laugh it off.

"Yeah," I mumble, lost in thought.

"But let's not think about that," Chris says. "What we should focus on is that ugly sweater you're wearing." My head snaps up in her direction.

"My mother bought me this," I say defensively.

"It looks like a cat got ahold of it." I look at the jacket my mom got me for my birthday a few years ago. It has holes in it and the hood is barely attached anymore. The black color faded into a muddy brown.

"It's not the best, but I like it."

"You need a new one," Christina protests. And she drags me into some clothing store against my protests. I veto every jacket she holds up, just to be difficult. Most of the ones she holds up are either too form fitting or too colorful, or a horrid combination of both.

"I don't wear a lot of bright colors," I tell her. The brightest color anyone could ever get me to wear is a dark green.

"Okay, black or brown? Or grey?"

I stand with my arms crosses and sigh heavily. I try telling her I don't care, but then she responds with something like 'Well then why not the red one?' As much as I've grown to love Christina over the past few days, she can be incredibly infuriating.

"I'm stubborn. Don't make me." Christina brushes off my wishes with a laugh and tosses me a black jacket.

"I wear enough black as it is," I say. "People will think I'm going to a funeral."

"Just tell 'em it's theirs and they'll shut right up." She tosses a grey and brown one at me and makes me model all of them for her.

"Beatrice, if you don't choose one, I'll do it for you."

That threat scares the hell out of me. What if it's that red one? Or the tan one? Or worse... the paisley one? Though that one had to be a joke. Not even Christina would find that thing attractive. I mean it was neon paisley. Who thought that was a good idea? The seventies ended.

"Fine," I say, giving in with a sigh of frustration, "the brown one."

Christina smiles cheerily and I roll my eyes. I hope she'll let me keep my old one just because. I don't think my mom would care if I got rid of it, but I am afraid it might hurt her feelings deep down.

After Christina's hostage takeover ends, we decide to go to the food court for lunch. I do not believe we have been here for hours. Only two items were purchased, and they were both for me! Why can't I watch as Christina models clothes for me? Because life isn't fair.

"You are not a shopper," Christina points out as she bites a fry in half.

"We've all spotted," I reply monotonously. "You're the shopper, where are your bags?" She smiles.

"We're getting there," she says. "Don't worry."

I roll my eyes again, but playfully this time.

As we finish lunch and continue walking around the mall, Christina tells me that she better see me wearing my new jacket to school on Monday.

"It's a really nice color on you," she says. "It goes well with your eyes."

I never really thought about that, but I guess they do. Brown and blue.