Chapter Five

Disclaimer: I don't own the original cast. Don't sue. Don't snitch. I ain't got no money. Stop hassling me!

I thought that I would outgrow this feeling. It seems my dream won't go away, so it's more like a nightmare. I gotta be famous. -Jazmine Sullivan

Jazmine

It had been a month of Professor Elliot's class, and I was already slipping. My grade was a 75, a point away from a D. I was scared, to be honest. Never before had I been so scared that I would fail. It wasn't that I didn't know any of the material. It wasn't that I didn't ace practically every test. I did all of that. It was the fact that she "accidentally" didn't e-mail me the assignments that were about 50% of our grade. Wow, wasn't that purely convenient.

Besides that, my parents threw the computer again by the time she actually did e-mail me my assignment that night, and I knew nothing of it. Not that it mattered, they had thrown my valedictorian slot right down the steps. I shuddered at the thought of them, wondering when they would discover that I was real. When would they wake up and say, "Jazmine exists." I didn't know. I just wanted them to do anything but hurt me more.

Huey was staring ahead of me towards the chalkboard, no doubt still very pissed about the project. I could practically sense his anger on my skin as it radiated from him. He had a B for an average. He didn't care that it was one point away from an A. After all, had I not ruined the project, he would have an A right now. I told him the computer crashed and in response, an annoyed roll of his eyes shot back at me. Now, he wouldn't even look at me. It was scary, not knowing what he felt. I wondered if he would attack me. I flinched.

"I'm not going to attack you if that's what you're thinking," Huey whispered as he glanced my way, "I just don't get why you had to lie about-"

"Lying?" I shook my head as I took out another sheet of paper, "I didn't lie! Huey, it really crashed."

Huey rolled his eyes as he glanced at the board before he glanced back at me, "Jazmine, come on. What else? Professor Elliot emailed the assignment to you at the last minute? We had that for weeks, and I told you about it."

"But she did!" I hissed back at him as I slammed the binder, causing Huey and I to sit up straight as our teacher turned back to look at us before turning back to the board, "And I wasn't-"

"Listening?" He finished my sentence for me, "Oh good job, Jazmine. Because that definitely wasn't something to listen to."

"I made a mistake," I hissed back at him as his eyes widened for some reason, "You didn't have to bother me about anything! And god, I'm sorry about the B! Alright? It's not my fault that Professor Elliot hates me!"

"Jazmine-" He looked at me as he shook his head, but I ignored him.

"And don't say that I'm lying," I shook my head in flat out defiance, "Everybody knows that she hates me. Even you admitted it once."

"Jazmine-"

"If you ask me," I laughed a little, not being able to suppress this one, "She needs a man in her life, preferably one that'll pull that stick out of her-"

"Dubois!" A voice sounded from behind me. I turned around to meet the person's eyes. Great, Professor Elliot had been standing behind Huey.

"Detention for five weeks, Dubois" Professor Elliot looked at me and then looked at Huey with a shrug, "You too, Freeman."

"Me?" He shook his head wildly, "What did I do?"

"Want to make that eight weeks?" Professor Elliot asked him as the class snickered.

"He didn't do anything, Professor Elliot" I tried to tell her, but Professor Elliot simply threw up a hand. Two hands, I mean.

"Ten weeks," She glared at me as I shrank down in my seat, clamping my mouth shut.

"Thanks a lot, Jazmine" Huey whispered, "You may have beat Bush in my list of things I hate, and that's pretty hard to do."

"Twelve weeks!"

I placed my head in my lap. Life couldn't get any worst.

Next Period…

It was theater class time. Mrs. Wells had gotten into her drama mode. She spent her time barking commands at the few freshmen who had gotten stuck in this class by some miracle. They squirmed in discomfort as Arielle spoke with a few close friends of hers. Jazmine did have a few admirers in this class that would speak to her, but they were more like associates.

"Everybody!" Mrs. Wells shrill voice sounded as she walked across the stage in her leggings and skirt, looking like another Debbie Allen, "I have a few announcements to make!"

We looked up. Everybody began to silence themselves in hushed whispers of "shut up" and "Who are you talking to like that?" Soon, the room slowly but surely had quieted down.

"Every person in this room," Mrs. Wells looked at me with a gaze in her eyes. It looked disappointed, "Must put effort into this production and audition! Failure to do so will get you a failing grade."

I sighed. This day just got worst. I grimaced as Mrs. Wells continued on as students rubbed the backs of their heads nervously.

"Auditions will begin on Monday," She glanced around the room as she stated the words before looking at me, "And if you don't give it you're all, I'm going to notice."

Luckily, I had detention. Who knew that Professor Elliot would ever help me out?

"Except for Jazmine," Mrs. Wells smiled, "She's going today!"

"What?" I gasped. There was no way that I could act out any scene. Back in my freshman year, it had come to me like a second nature. I could just flow through it effortlessly. Now, the flow, the unspoken stage rules, that stage presence, I didn't have it anymore. I didn't think I could do this.

"Jazmine?" Mrs. Wells shot me a look of annoyance, "The stage is that way."

Scratch that. I knew I couldn't do this.

"Oh," I stalled, "It's just hard to do this without knowing what the play is about is all."

"It's about a lost girl who finds herself," Mrs. Wells held up the script, "She's living in a world that doesn't seem to understand her, so she changes herself rather than her mindset so she can stay strong."

"That," Arielle looked at me with an intense glare, "Sounds familiar."

"Good," Mrs. Wells looked at her, "You should do exceptionally well on Monday, Miss Nordstrom."

The only thing I liked about Arielle was actually her last name, and that was only because Nordstrom is one of my favorite stores. I still didn't like her that much. She and I have this mutual hatred thing going that's occurred way before I got there. As Mrs. Wells continues to ramble about the script, I think back to the day I met the girl.

June 11, 2008

Huey never ever smiles. I've been here a whole entire year, and all he does is sit here and read. I want to leave him alone, but it's hard. He's cute, and when I look at him, my heart starts beating and stuff. When I see him, all I want to do is talk and giggle and smile, but when he sees me, he just shrugs or frowns. Today is a frowny day for him. I hate the fact that he doesn't even like me like I like him. Then again, I am ugly and what did Ruckus call it? Scrancy? Scrawny? I don't know, but I'm pretty sure it's not nice.

I'm bored too. I look over at Huey, but what's fun about that? He's reading- again.

"Huey?" I start up with the questions that make him finally pay attention to me, "Where do babies really come from?"

"Um," Huey turns a funny shade of red that makes me giggle out loud, "Ask your parents. You are eleven now, even if you don't really act like it."

I stomp my feet together as I look at him, "Why can't you tell me?"

He shrugs again as I rolled my eyes, sitting down next to him. Then, I realized what he said about me.

"Hey!" I huff, "I do act eleven!"

"Whatever," He shrugs before he goes back to reading that book without any type of interesting qualities. There aren't even any pictures outside of the book.

"It's hot!" I announce as I fan myself.

"No," Another voice suddenly sounded from behind me, causing both me and Huey to turn around, "You don't say?"

It's a girl. Another girl to play with actually sounds a little fun. I grin as I think of actually playing dolls with a girl that wants to do it. I could talk to her about Huey, and maybe we could have a sleepover. Then we could be best friends forever and have weddings with pink ponies and dance parties and stuff.

"And who are you?" He says. He looked at her too as she got up, rolling her brown eyes. I sighed. He already liked her more than he liked me. Was I really that bad?

"Arielle Nordstrom," The girl tells him as she shakes his hand.

That's when I realize that I and Arielle won't be best friends. She's pretty. She has brown eyes like that song Daddy sings to me by Cent Condition. And her hair is in braids too. She's a little darker than me too. Her face, like Huey, has a scowl etched upon it. She and Huey are standing there looking at each other while I'm waiting.

"I'm Jazmine Dubois," I tell her enthusiastically.

"I don't need to be best friends with you," She warns me with a strange clicking of her tongue, "Girls like you are just weak and defenseless."

"Hey!" Huey shoots a look at her, "You don't even know her."

I don't even care that Huey is bothering to defend me. The tears are falling from my cheeks now.

"Oh, I know alright," She looks at me as I trudge down the hill, "She's the crybaby, not me. Besides, it's obvious that she likes you or something. I can't help it that she's not confident or competent in social skills."

"Hey!" I turn back around as I march up the hill, my mess of a bad hair day flows behind me, "You can't talk about me like that! I don't even like Huey that way. And I'm not continent!"

"Yeah," Arielle shakes her head at me, "You're worst. Say competent, sweetie."

"Look," Huey moves his hands, "How about we just start over here?"

"She started it!" I point out.

"Look," Huey leans back against the tree, his soft afro dancing at me, "Let's just start over."

"Mariah Carey wannabe," Arielle mutters.

"What," I ask her as I get up, "Did you call me?"

"Mariah," Arielle gets in my face as I back away, "Carey!"

"Don't call me that!" I growl as Huey's eyes widen. Is he actually impressed? I don't have time to think because suddenly I'm on the ground. A strong hit to my jaw draws blood, and her long nails scratch my arm. I want to look good in front of Huey, but it hurts so bad.

"Owwww!" I cry out.

"Serves you right," Arielle snorts.

"Come on, Jazmine," Huey shakes his head at Arielle as he takes my hand to lift me off of the ground, "You have to learn to control your anger. That's not healthy."

"Whatever," The girl tells him as she takes off the jacket she wore, fanning herself. It revealed her Malcom X shirt. She smiles at him as Huey stares at Arielle.

"What?" She looks down at her shirt, grinning, "You're a fan?"

"Only the greatest men who ever lived impress me," Huey nods, "Loose the temper and apologize to Jazmine, and I might just keep you around."

"Sorry, Jazmine!" She flashes me a smile that I don't really think is real, but I stop crying enough to nod and mutter an "It's okay."

Then, I walk home after giving them a wave. My mom asks me what's wrong. I don't tell her about how Huey loves Arielle more than me. I don't tell her how I'm crying because I want Huey to just like me as more than the annoying girl from down the street. She would say that I'm only eleven, and I don't know what I want yet. Instead, I show her the scratch on my arm that makes her gasp and ask her what happened.

"I fell," I tell her as I sit down and wait for that stupid burning feeling that I get when she puts alcohol on me. Huey's right. Life does suck.

(End of Flashback)

"Jazmine!" A voice snapped me out of the trance, "What are you doing? Get up on that stage!"

"Sorry, I told her as I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, knowing full well that this wouldn't turn out well at all.

Nothing ever did.

Riley

Mane, I'm late again no thanks to my bitch ass alarm clock, and now, my teacher is tripping again, making me go get some goddamn admit to class. What the fuck? Since when do they do this foolishness? Now, they probably gone make Granddad come up here and do a parent teacher conference, bullshit. Damn, he probably gonna bring that old ass belt with him. I wince. I ain't even gone lie. That shit hurts.

Now, this dude with the green eyes is walking towards the office. It's him again. Hell, I might wanna learn this nigga's name. He keep running into me and shit. What the hell is up with this? I feel like I gotta protect his ass or something. It honestly feels strange.

"Ay, nigga!" I yell out, knowing that he would shoot me a look and say…

"Nigga is not my name," He glared at me, "It's Jarod, Jarod D-"

"What are ya'll doing in this hallway?" One of the assistant principals yells. She's ugly too. The only thing pretty about her is hair, and today, even that's lacking. She's wearing these ugly ass shoes too. They look flip flops with a little girls heels attached, her glasses are crooked, upping the lameness that she was projecting upon me. I scowled at the thought. Lame ass niggas are contagious, "Get in the office!"

I rolled my eyes as the assistant principal yelled again, "What are you doing in this hallway?"

I was about to go on off on the dumb bitch until I realized that I was the one in the wrong. She was talking to the girl behind me. Mikayla, she had pretty hazel eyes and long hair. She was the new freshmen cheerleader that already had haters on her jock because she had so much swag on her already. She was a cool ass girl, and I knew that Jarod was feeling her, especially the way that he was looking at her. I ain't say shit though. Hell, I ain't gay!

"I'm in this hallway because my mama dropped me off late," Mikayla looked the woman up and down, "Do you want to go yell at her for that?

"Just go to the office!" She barked at all of us as we flinched. We walked down the hallway hurriedly as she sighed. I hated this damn school.

"I swear," Mikayla looked at me and Jarod, "I can't stand these damn principals. What's with them? Kids being late is what their trained for. It's not like I'm going to blow something up!"

"That's kind of why they're nervous though," Jarod chuckled, "It ain't helping that you're black."

"Whatever," Mikayla tossed her hair to the side, her hazel eyes already rolling at the sight of the office, "Here we go."

The lady at the front desk looked up at me and Jarod, a scowl on her face. She was on the phone as she smacked a purple piece of gum that my ass sure as hell didn't want to see. Plus, she was being loud. I took it from the pieces of shit that used to be pictures, the broken frame in the garbage, and the wads of tissue, that she had broken up with, dumped, tossed like the hoe she is. I hoped he didn't take that ass out to dinner. I rolled my eyes. She sho as hell wasn't worth it.

"No," She was yelling into the receiver, "I would never cheat! Baby!"

"Excuse me," Mikayla tapped the lady and hopped back, her mouth open at the glare that she received.

"I'm talking," The woman shot us all a look, "Can you wait?"

"Mane my teacher gone right me up!" Jarod slammed his fist on the desk, "Again!"

"What you said!" Mikayla rolled her own two eyes, "Look, can you break away from that useless man for a minute so you can write me an admit?"

"No," The lady howled into the mic, "That's a student. No, I'm not. You didn't just call me a hoe!"

"I think he did," I sighed impatiently as I waited for her dumb ass to put down the phone, "Can you just write the goddamn shit of paper?"

"No!" She shrieked like somebody was killing that ass, "I'm not! You know what? You know what? Hello? Hello? He hung up on me!"

"As nice as that really does sound, I just want to get to class," Mikayla yawned.

"Fine," The lady at the desk glared at us, "Names?"

"Mikayla Wright,"

"Spell it please," The lady told her as she rolled her eyes.

"M-i-k-a-y-l-a," Mikayla told her, "W-r-i-g-h-t"

"Riley Freeman," I told her, "R-i-l-e-y and just spell free and man together for my last name."

"And you?" She looked at him.

"Jarod Dubois," He stated, "J-a-r"

Mikayla looked at me, and I looked at Mikayla as both of our mouths fell open. I know full well he didn't just say that. I couldn't even contain it, and apparently Mikayla couldn't either, "Aw hell no!"

"Mane! Maybe he just Tom's cousin!" My brain shouted, but something else was telling me that this wasn't the case. Something told me that my assumption was right.

"Two weeks of detention for each of you plus an admit to class," The lady smirked at us, "Have a wonderful day!"

"Bitch," Jarod rolled his eyes as me and Mikayla stared after him.

"Hey!" Mikayla yelled, "What's your dad's name?"

"Tom," Jarod shrugged wordlessly, "Why?

"No reason?" Mikayla winced as she spoke the words.

"Mane, I don't claim his ass though," Jarod snorted, "That nigga's a bitch."

As fucked up as it is, I laughed. After all, Tom is a bitch nigga.

Cindy

I hate walking through the hallways now. Everybody doesn't treat me the same, and I don't blame them. I'm not the same. That doesn't mean that I enjoy the looks of sympathy I get as I walk down the hallway. Half the time, people don't know what to say to me. They don't know what to say, and worst of all, they don't know how to say it.

I feel like I'm letting them down somehow. Maybe I'm letting me down. I don't know. All I know is that everything is moving in slow motion. I feel numb, like somebody has taken a knife and just attacked me with it so many times that I can't feel the pain. Nothing affects me, not even the dropping temperatures.

I wonder what happens. Sometimes, I still think he's here. I can hear the voice that never speaks. Katie is three and she's taking it better than I am. I wonder why I'm so weak and malleable. I stop to rest. I let the tears overtake me. I hate everything. It feels tiresome just to breathe. I'm tired of pretending. I'm so fucking tired of pretending with the smile that stays plastered on my face.

"I'm fine," I smiled as people told me how strong I was. They relied on me, my family. My own whore of a mother didn't even bother to show up for the funeral. If she had, I hadn't recognized her.

It was easier at the time to mask my feelings, but now, it just seems harder. Everything seems harder. I hate to say this, but maybe it would be best for everybody involved if I just died too. I think that would help everybody involved. Maybe, just maybe.

I reach for the pills. I grab a bottle of water. I think of everybody. I think of the people that I love. I think of the only people that I care about. I think of all the great times that I've had. I think of Katie. I think of Jazmine and Tasha. I think of everybody. I take the cap and twist it, setting the container back onto the desk. I begin to cry quietly. I'm too scared. I almost overdosed. I say it again and again, but my mind won't take it in. It won't let it sink in.

I want to live, but how do it without the pain?

You can't do it Cindy. The voice speaks in my thoughts that I try to ignore as I lay back on the bed, falling asleep.

Arielle

Huey and I had another fight. We've been like this for the past month since school started. As much as I want to blame Jazmine, I know that it's bigger than her. It's bigger than us. It's something that even Huey can't control. I don't know why I'm attracted to him, or why he may be the same way, but I can't help it. I know that it's simply an attraction now, but I don't think Huey does. He has enough going on with Katie and Cindy at their house now.

Besides, I don't think that I love him. He doesn't either, not deep down. Now, our fights are so regular it's almost a routine. Kiss and fight. Fight and kiss. That's our purpose now. After everything that we've been through together, this is what it led to. I hate that we act this way. I hate that we say things that we don't mean to each other. Is this it? Is it over?

Caesar breaks my thoughts as he sits beside me. He doesn't say anything. He just looks me over.

"What's up Queen Icicle?" He hits my shoulder gently, "You like particularly cold on this fine day."

"My boyfriend," I shrugged, "Long story."

"Isn't it always," Caesar shrugged as he paused to take a look at me, "shorter than what we make it seem?"

"It's just that I don't know what I feel," I sighed as I looked up at him, trying to explain, "I don't understand my exact feelings."

"Then, they aren't true," Caesar told me as he thought for a while, "If you don't know what the thoughts mean."

"But-"

"You don't have to understand them," Caesar cut me off as his dreads shook in the ponytail holder he constricted them in, "But you do have to know without a shadow of a doubt that a spark is there."

I paused for a moment. I tried to take in his words as I lifted from the bed. He said that I had to know, but how could I know what I wasn't familiar with?

"I don't think I can," I sounded so weak. This was so unlike me, "It's strange, not knowing. I normally know everything."

"Whatever you say, Arielle," He shot me a look, "Do you know?"

Somehow, that question sounded like a lot more than a typical question. It sounded serious. It sounded like a question that would change everything. Was it worth it? Was any of it worth it?

"Know what?" I asked him as I played stupid.

"What you feel," He smirked, a smile on his face. It was funny how him and Huey were alike, but they were different. I don't know. I don't want to know.

I thought of my mother. I did not come this far to end up like her. I wouldn't be like her. I wouldn't let any man come between me and success. I had to keep it cool. I couldn't trust anyone. I could barely trust myself with my heart.

"No," I told him as I looked outside of the window, "I don't."

Huey

Detention is stupid, not punishment. African American males like myself spend days locked up in solitary confinement for crimes they could not commit. This is injustice, another preparation for the assumed tales of my existence. The least they could do is turn on the air. Even though it's just right outside, it's hot in here. I think that I just might break every assault law made to hold the black males' rights down.

I sigh as I sit down, taking in my surroundings. There is a man in glasses, big and buff. He looks up at me with a growl. He must be in such a great mood. I sigh, signing my name on the paper. He points to some desk with my name on it. Wow, that's very elementary of them. I pull out a book as a loud cough erupts, making me look up. It's the buff man in the glasses. He points to the board.

"No doing anything for fun," It read.

"but this is for class," I told him, hoping that would work.

He holds up eight fingers as he looks at the board.

"Should have thought about that for before coming in here," It read.

I roll my eyes before taking my seat. This is really just great. Just as I think it can't get any worst, Jazmine Dubois herself walks in. She looks so lost that it's almost comical how she fits in with the collection of future gangbangers, arsonists, and underaged mothers of America. It's more like watching a tanned Paris Hilton in a homeless shelter.

She trips as she comes my way. I roll my eyes. Why is it that she and I are always seated next to each other? The man seems to be pointing at another rule. What does it say?

"Don't talk, please," I roll my eyes. Great, I was the one talking even though it was just Jazmine was the one who said it. I sit there aimlessly, taking in the surroundings. People were talking anyways. Why was I such an exception to the unspoken rules that were detention?

"And last night," I could hear a girl with a thousand tattoos and a piercing say, "I could hear the curdling screams of the idiot who dared walk into my backyard with my pit-bull. Ask me if called 911"

I winced turning my ears to another conversation.

"Baby," Somebody was whispering beside me, "I'm kind of in detention right now."

Oh, it was just Jazmine.

"Yes, Huey's in here!" She hissed loudly into the receiver, "Kevin, come on baby don't be like that. He is not a terrorist!"

I chuckled. I was a licensed terrorist, but I didn't go blowing up towers with innocent lives. I just told truths that the government didn't want me to expose.

"What?" Jazmine rolled her eyes as her own orange hair cheating, "You of all people shouldn't be the one talking about cheating right now!"

So Jazmine did know about Tasha and Kevin. I shrugged. It wasn't my problem. At least that's what I kept trying to tell myself. So far, it wasn't working.

"Oh, so I get detention from a teacher that clearly hates me, and you think that I'm cheating?" Jazmine waved a hand in the air, "Kevin, that's bull!"

You could hear Kevin getting hysterical on the other end.

"I'm still a virgin," Jazmine was clicking her nails, "You know that!"

More yelling appeared on the end.

"Kevin, I'm serious. And you know that I'm not ready to-"

The yelling on the end was so loud that Jazmine held the phone away from her, only returning it to say more.

"Kevin, look" Jazmine peeked around her before continuing, her words soft but final, "That's enough."

I looked at the board.

"Fine then!" She shrieked, "Bye, Kevin."

By that time, some girl with hazel eyes and a guy with green eyes like Jazmine's walked through the door. I sighed in relief. At least Riley wasn't here with me.

"AY!" A voice boomed from the doorway, "Whaassup big G!"

The buff man's growling presence immediately lifted from his face, "Long time, no see."

Riley nodded as he smirked at me, "It's amazing that my older brother is in here."

The big buff guy, Big G, looked at me then Riley, "That's your brother? The smart one? Is it true that you're gay?"

The entire class erupted into laughter as I glared at him.

"No."

"Well then," Big G looked at Riley, "Ya'll know the drill. Riley's in charge of you guys until I get back."

Well, that was decent. Now, that the big buff dude was leaving, I could too. I had to work on everything for class anyways. I lifted from my seat as Riley shot me a look.

"Where you going?" Riley scoffed, his expression serious, "You better sit down. You ain't going nowhere."

"Riley, come on," I told him.

"Mane naw," He told me, "Cuz when Granddad left us alone when I was eight yo ass ain't let me go!"

"Riley that was almost seven years ago!" I told him, "Let it go!"

"I'm not letting it go, nigga!" He rolled his eyes, "Now, just sit down before I write some more detention on this shit."

I rolled my eyes as I sat down. I couldn't wait to graduate, and I was still a junior. The girl with the hazel eyes was talking to me.

"Hey," She told me, "what's up with you?"

What was up with me? I didn't know. Arielle and I fought almost every day. I felt tired as hell, and now, I was in this pointless primitive jail cell where Riley, of all people, was the security.

"What do you mean?" I told her examining her. She had long hair and light skin. She wore converse on her feet. She looked up at me.

"You're just always so unhappy looking," She looked up at me, "Why don't you just smile?"

I leaned back in my seat, my face not wavering, "Why should I? The world is a horrible place, and people die without justice. Everybody fights a war that only money wins. Why should I smile?"

Mikayla waved a finger in my face, "You are one jaded cookie."

"I am," I looked at her, "Shouldn't you be talking to somebody cooler or something?"

I gestured towards Jazmine who rolled her eyes in response.

"I'm not scared of Tasha," Mikayla laughed, "She can go on somewhere with that foolishness. That's why I call her T-Rex!"

"Mikayla!" Jazmine gasped, "Come on!"

"Whatever, Jazmine," Mikayla rolled her eyes, "What you need to do is-"

"Ummm," Jazmine pointed in the green eyed boy's direction, "Who is that?"

He looked up, his expression oddly the same, "Jarod, Jarod Dubois"

I sighed. Detention just got a whole lot crazier. I blame Dick Chaney. I bet he's around here somewhere.

It's always Tom.

"What the hell?" Jazmine asked him, "Well, maybe we're just cousins. What's your dad's name?"

"Thomas Dubois," Jarod shrugged, "I don't claim him. He's a bitch."

That sounded about right to me.

"I've got to go," Jazmine got up and walked out, ignoring Mikayla and Riley's cries, but that wasn't what got me.

She left behind her diary, and on the top of it, was a picture of her with me, Riley, Cindy, and Arielle. Why in the hell was everything so random today?

I picked it up and stuck it in my pocket. I would give it to her later.

Riley had locked the door.