Nitroglycerine

MONDAY

"It's cool Nathan … Don't stress, you're okay, bro. Just count to three," Nathan spoke to himself as he entered the girl's bathroom.

One.

He took a deep breath as he felt his knees shaking. His hands were cold and sweaty; he swallowed, looking into the mirror. His cheeks burned with excitement, while the rest of his face was white as snow. They were just joking around, he thought as he let his gaze wander over the doors. Nobody there, good. Some girl seeing him like that, hyperventilating because of some guys fooling around, was the last thing Nathan needed. He was the king of Blackwell, and everybody knew that.

"Don't be scared, you own this school," he said to himself, starting to feel a bit better, "if I wanted, I could blow it up. You're the boss." That's right. He was the boss, and there was no Hayden, or anybody else, who could mess with him.

Two.

They had been joking around, nothing more. They didn't know shit and it was just some phrase Hayden had said. It was a phrase he could've said to anybody. "Nathan Prescott, always getting his things straight … or not so straight." It was a joke and everybody had laughed, including Nathan, then Taylor had started speaking of the End of the World party on Thursday evening. Nothing more. A fucking joke. Nathan inhaled deeply, trying to avoid the thought of Hayden knowing. Knowing it, knowing everything. After he had said that, Nathan's heart had started to race, and he had felt cold sweat of shame wetting his back, shorty before standing up and claiming that he needed to use the bathroom, and – to make matters worse – he had seen this punk bitch following him the down the hallway.

Hayden didn't knew shit about Nathan. Nobody knew, and nobody suspected a thing. Everything was ok. There was nothing Nathan had to worry about. Nathan took out his pills and swallowed two of them. Then he looked up.

Three.

"So what do you want?" Nathan snarled when the girl with the blue hair and the tatts entered the room.

"I hope you checked the perimeter, as my step-ass would say," she said. Nathan didn't give a fuck about her step-ass and about that stupid expression. The girl checked if they were alone, then looked at him sternly.

"Now, let's talk bidness–"

"I got nothing for you," Nathan hissed, but this bitch proceeded to piss him off. Nathan wasn't scared of her, he wasn't scared of anybody since he got that gun.

"Wrong. You got hella cash," she said, looking at Nathan who was observing her through the dirty mirror. Now, Nathan finally remembered her name: Price … Chloe Price, Rachel Amber's personal bull dyke. Did she really think she could scare him? Who on earth could scare a Prescott? All of what she was wearing, her tatts included, were worth what Sean would call loose change.

"That's my family, not me." Why did nobody seem to understand that.

"Oh boo hoo, poor little rich kid. I know you been pumpin' drugs n' shit to kids around here," she said like she was fucking Sherlock Holmes, then she got close to him, looking at him with that steady gaze she thought she could scare him with and make him wet his pants like she had almost done, laying in his room, whining. Oh, what a beautiful yet pathetic sight. Nathan opened his mouth, ready to roast that bitch, when he suddenly felt a sharp pain penetrating his head, making him slouch his shoulders. Fuck! Not again! Fuck, that hurt.

"Ugh," Nathan said, trying to interrupt Chloe's pathetic attempt of threatening him, but without her noticing. The pain got worse and Nathan held his breath, trying to focus on something different than Hayden suspecting he was gay or Chloe screaming at him. But without success. He clenched his fists as his headache got worse.

"I can tell everybody Nathan Prescott is a punk ass who begs like a little girl and talks to himself!" Chloe screamed. That bitch didn't just say that.

"You don't know who the fuck I am or who you're messing around with!" Nathan yelled as he got up and gnashed his teeth, feeling his rage burn in his stomach. This slut knew nothing about him, and yet she decided to continue fucking around with him. His heart was racing when he approached her, staring at her in an outburst of rage.

"Ugh, sh-shit," Nathan mumbled as he shrieked, feeling another wave of throbbing pain in his head.

They know it!, he heard a voice say. It wasn't a joke and you know it. Stop! Someone needed to make this stop! Nathan held his breath as he began to stagger, trying to keep his eyes opened, which suddenly felt like he hadn't sleep for years. Then a smirk, blue hair showing under the black cap, folded arms, screwed up eyes, looking at him in a mixture of curiosity and victory.

Before realizing, Nathan had been aiming his gun at Chloe, and her expression changed within seconds.

"Where'd you get that? … What are you doing? Come on, put that thing down!" she stuttered as Nathan had pushed her to the wall, putting his gun on her stomach.

"Don't EVER tell me what to do," Nathan screamed as he punched against the wall, scaring Chloe to death, "I'm so SICK of people trying to control me!"

Fuck , his head felt like it was going to explode, like nitroglycerine, ready to blow up. Nathan swallowed, everything was so blurry, and he needed to concentrate on not passing out. His hands were sweaty and suddenly, his gun felt like a hot stone laying between his fingers. His head started spinning, and he noticed his hands shaking. Shit, he was actually going to pass out …!

"You are going to get in hella more trouble for this than drugs," Chloe whispered, and Nathan tried to focus on her eyes, sparkling with fear as she felt Nathan pressing his gun more and more against her stomach. This , Nathan thought, this is it. This magical expression you couldn't give me back then, you twee bitch. It felt so wrong yet so good, knowing that her life was laying in his hands, knowing that it was him who had the power to decide about her future, about her death. Nobody could control him, not Sean, not Blackwell, not Chloe. He looked at Chloe, tearing up as she begged for him putting away that gun, holding her shaking hands up as if it would help, and it got quieter and quieter as the the noises started to fade away. God, this was so much better than a girl who was drugged, better than any photoshoot Mark and him had ever done.

Suddenly, he heard something clink, followed by the jarring sound of the fire alarm.

"What the …?" he gasped, before Chloe got up and pushed him aside as she fled and disappeared behind the door. Nathan, still in shock, mechanically grabbed his gun and ran out of the bathroom.

"Another shitty day …!"

What the actual hell just happened? Shit. Nathan, who had been running down the hallway, slowed his pace as he ran his fingers through his sweaty hair. Another attack, just in the worst moment ever. These things, Nathan thinking he would pass out and his head burning like it was set on fire, weren't new. In fact, Nathan was suffering since, at least, one year from these weird symptoms. Was it because of the pills? Well, Nathan once had accidentally mixed them up, but Diazepam and Risperidone didn't make this much of a difference, did they? Whatever, who cared anyway, right? They helped with Nathan's regular panic attacks, making everything blurry and … not that fucked up as his life actually was.

"Nathan," he heard a familiar, smooth voice say and someone grabbed his arm from behind, "are you okay? Where have you been?"

He turned around in confusion, seeing Mark Jefferson looking at him, astonished. Mark looked perfect as always, while he himself looked like shit, once again. He swallowed uncomfortably.

"Nowhere. Why?" he said grimly.

"You look like you've seen a ghost, and – are you sweating?" he asked as he intended to put a hand on Nathan's forehead, which he slapped away.

"Stop that," he said, annoyed. God, sometimes Mark acted like his fucking mother.

"Well, at least you don't have fever. What's wrong?" – "Nothing."

Mark sighed, then his voice turned deep. "Six o'clock, don't forget it, we need to talk," he said firmly. The way Mark's facial expression changed within seconds was impressive and frightening at the same time.

"I know, Mark" Nathan said impatiently, "I haven't forgotten it."

"That's good to hear. Now, how many times have I told you to stick to 'Mr. Jefferson' when we're in public?"

"Pardon, Mr. Jefferson," Nathan hissed. He hated it when Mark ordered him to do something, it reminded him of his stupid father. Mark intended to say something as it suddenly got quiet. The fire alarm had been turned off, and Mark took a look at his watch.

"Okay, I have to go, see you this evening," he said busily before turning around one last time, "oh, and will you please do your back a favor and stop walking around like a stray cat? A good posture wouldn't kill you." Then his lips formed something which appeared to be a smile, this smug, self-righteous smile he always formed when he thought he had just said something clever, something which was too great not to be shared.

Nathan pulled a face as he watched Mark disappear in the crowd. Then he approached the exit for a smoke. Mark could be a jerk sometimes, but god, Nathan was so much more of a dick. Mark actually cared about him, even though it didn't seem so sometimes, and Nathan couldn't stop giving him attitude. But he had always done. Why? He didn't really know. Maybe because he felt insecure talking to Mark. He was very talented, and he had actual visions and he was an actual genius when it comes to photographing, and Nathan was just … Nathan. A fucked up teenager who was hardly taller than Vic and most of the girls, and who just appeared to be rich.

Nathan rubbed his eyes; it wasn't even lunch and he was already done. Wherever Hayden was, he could prepare for some serious shit. Nobody messed with Nathan, and especially not him. He was just some dude who had absolutely needed to become a member of the Vortex Club, but couldn't afford a third pair of jeans. God, this fucking school was so pissing Nathan off. But there was another thing which complicated the whole shitty situation: Blackwell's nun, Kate Marsh, showing off her glorious partying skills and making out with the whole Vortex Club. Not that this clip was a bad thing, no, quite the reverse: It was the best thing Nathan had seen in ages, and it definitely had sweetened his everyday life on Blackwell, but who could've known that this bitch actually remembered some parts of that night? When Nathan and Vic had been witnessing Kate's gospel and putting it online so everybody could be her apostle, they should've known that there would be at least some people doubting that story. Not that much of a good idea, and in the end the reason for Mark's and his meeting this evening. It was the first time a girl actually remembered hearing someone, and if Kate started to continue remembering …

Exiting the school and breathing fresh air made Nathan feel a little less sick than before. He lighted a cig as he walked by another of these "Missing Person" posters which made him want to rip this shit off and burn it. Rachel Amber was fucking dead, and she was never coming back. Witnessing someone's death you have been responsible for had to be the worst thing you could go through. It was 6 months, and Nathan hadn't slept through one single night. One, maybe two nightmares a week had gotten normal, by now. Sometimes, Nathan was the one killing her, then again he was the one getting murdered. They all came in different shapes and variations, but the topic never changed. Injecting her that one final dose of anesthesia, seeing her struggling to breath, trying to talk to her, trying to calm her … to calm a dying person. This had inured Nathan, had made him feel less than before; had left a mark. Nathan wasn't the same after all of this. And he felt like he was slowly dying, too.

If you asked Vic, Zach and Hayden, basically every club member, they'd be telling you that Nathan's first kiss was with Vic. But the first lips that had touched Nathan's had been the dead ones of Rachel Amber, cold flesh getting pressed on his warm mouth, trying to give her oxygen.

Nathan would never forget his first kiss.

As Nathan was walking across the campus, he saw Mrs. Grant's gaze resting on him while talking to that pedophile Samuel. She had wanted him to sign that stupid petition, but to be honest, Nathan didn't give a fuck about these cameras. He got enough problems, and if that paranoid creep wanted to observe Blackwell's students while taking a shit, then why the fuck not. Nathan took a drag on his cig, then he averted his gaze.

"Fuck y'all," he said before stopping all of sudden because that bitch Brooke thought it was funny when she was letting her drone fly just above Nathan's head. He looked at her with a frown, seeing her giggling. Did that virgin really think Nathan gave a shit about her and that stupid drone? To be fair, letting the drone attack people was in deed funny. Nathan always liked that thing, and he had thought about stealing it, but he had ended up buying it since Brooke had bought, like, the cheapest model you could get. Him and Zach had fooled around with that thing, but after a few hours he had got tired of it. Then he had started attacking various teachers, including Mark, and Brooke had been suspected of being responsible for that, which was pretty funny.

Also, Brooke had a crush on Warren Graham. Nathan blushed, which he hated himself for this, then he took another deep drag. Warren didn't give two shits about her though. Like she had a chance.

Suddenly, Hayden called his name, and Nathan turned around, seeing him waving at him.

"What's up, bro, you look like shit," Hayden said, faking a caring smile, "wasn't there any caviar left on your pla–"

"Call me a faggot once again and I'm gonna blow your fucking ass off," Nathan yelled as he grabbed Hayden's collar, staring at him.

"What the …? Shit, Nathan," Hayden gasped, looking around, intimidated, "I never said … Come on, I, was joking, I know Vic and you–"

"Vic's my best friend and you better get the fuck out of my face, you little cunt," Nathan yelled, looking at him steadfastly. Even though he was smaller than him, he knew that the people thought he was creepy and unpredictable; also, he had a firm grip. Hayden swallowed as he tried to free himself out of Nathan's grasp.

"Come on, people are looking," Hayden hissed, "c-come on, Nathan, this is just embarass– FUCK!"

Hayden cried out with pain as he fell on his knees after Nathan had rammed his fist on his nose. Courtney shrieked as Hayden's nose started to bleed, staining his shirt

"What the …?! Shit, man! What the FUCK is wrong with you?!" Hayden yelled, holding his nose and smearing his blood all over his mouth.

"Nobody messes with me! NOBODY!" – "Take your fucking pills, psycho!"

Then, the stabbing pain in his head. Again. Nathan looked around while making his way back to the dormitories, holding his knuckles. Shit, that had hurt …! He needed a shower since he was sweating like a pig, and he needed some rest, otherwise he would collapse. The people were looking at him, whispering behind his back; gossiping. Everybody thought he was sick, but they all knew shit. He wasn't sick! His mother had been, yes, but not him. Why couldn't they just leave him alone?!

His phone vibrated as he got a message from Vic.

'I GOT PAINT ALL OVRE MY CASHMERE JACKET FML' – Vic

'yo yo vic

no paint can ruin a qween u kno' – Nathan

'thanx ur so cute (ToT)

u wanna come over & smoke em peace pipe?

could be ready 5' – Vic

'thx but im feeling like shit' – Nathan

'txt me if u need me k

BTW hayden sexted me

ill show u later lol' – Vic

'ill do babe

this twat don't touch u or he gonna fukin die' – Nathan

'he wont coz hes scared of u lmao' – Vic

'he better be

TTYL' – Nathan

Nathan smiled thinking about Vic. God, how he loved his little drama queen. She was the only person in his age who really understood him and whom he could talk with. She was his best friend, his queen, his love. His first friend when they had moved to Oregon. Now that Vic texted Nathan about Hayden, he remembered pranking Juliet by making her think Zach had been sexting Dana, though in reality, Zach had been sexting Vic. It was such a blast trolling that idiot. "What are you wearing?" had to be the stupidest sexting phrase ever, and Nathan and Vic had been bursting out in laughter when he had written that. All of that had been Vic's idea; god, she was such an evil bish!

When talking about Dana, Logan had acted so fucking weird, making Nathan wonder if there was something going on between them, and eventually there had been some rumors concerning Dana being pregnant and shit, but unfortunately, Nathan had never found out. Shit, Dana being fucking pregnant would've been sooo much better than that nun's porn vid!

Suddenly, a voice interrupted Nathan's thoughts.

"Nathan, can I talk to you for a moment?"

Nathan turned around as he saw Wells walking over to him. He looked serious and for a moment, Nathan feared that Wells had found out that it had been him spraying "prcpl wells is a fckn pisshead".

"After the fire alarm, a girl talked to me about a serious matter I wanted to ask you about, and I'm really sorry to bring this up since I'm certain this is an unfounded accusation," he said uncomfortably. Nathan glanced at him, annoyed. Could he fucking not? Nathan felt like shit and needed a shower right now, so he didn't have time for this shit. Whatever it was, Sean would take care of it.

"I'm sorry, I'm beating around the bush, again. Now, this girl said she has seen you holding a gun in the girl's bathroom."

Nathan froze, staring at him. Shit shit shit. If Sean would hear about this, he would think Nathan had went nuts, and after finding out that this wasn't the first gun Nathan had purchased using his account, he would send him back home, expecting him to join the family's business. It was a GB 17, 9 mm Pistol, Nathan would find this baby never again …!

Nathan swallowed. "Who–"

"I want you to know that I absolutely think that this is a serious accusation and I've already said to Max– ugh, I, I mean, t-to the student, that you're a responsible, well-respected student and I warned her about the consequences of her words. I just wanted you to know about this."

Max. Where had he heard that name before? Hadn't Mark once told about this chick?

"Thank you, Principal Wells, I really appreciate that. It was right, I was in the girls bathroom, for I was having some kind of nausea attack and I needed to go somewhere, so yeah," Nathan said, and Well's expression changed, "maybe I disgusted her since I couldn't vomiting and I think there was blood and some food coming up, too, and–"

"Thank you, Nathan, that is enough information. Now, I knew you would deal with this like a grown-up, and of course, I won't inform your father about it, since I truly believe this accusation isn't veracious at all."

Then, Wells smiled at him awkwardly as he went away. Nathan grinned; he hadn't even told him not to smoke on the school's campus. Being a Prescott was a fucking curse, but damnit, it got its perks. … Max … Max … that wasn't even a girl's name, what a dyke she must've been.

It was near the lot when Nathan suddenly heard someone call her name. Nathan, lost in thoughts again, looked up in surprise as he saw a girl walking across the lot. So this was her! Max Caulfield. Nathan gnashed his teeth, preparing for confronting that bitch. Walking toward her, Nathan finally remembered what Vic had said about her. Lame, average, makes shitty selfies with her polaroid, trying to impress Mark whom she was clearly flirting with. According to Vic, Mark didn't give a shit about her. Well, Mark didn't give a shit about Vic either, but since Vic seemed to pretty much crush on Mark, Nathan didn't tell her, of course. Max was heading for a shitty car and Nathan was, too, when suddenly, he slowed his pace as he flushed.

There he was.