Chapter 3

Everything passed like a blur. Reece held onto his chest, trying hard to ease the congestion he was feeling from within. He tried feeling his hands, but they did not move. The ground beneath his feet began shifting at a rapid rate, and he breathed heavily, trying to gather himself and his thoughts, but like a submarine, he was not in control. He was moved in whatever direction the walls were closing in on him, and everything turned pitch black.

 The students shouted, but Aryan was quick to catch the fragile boy before his beautiful self hit the ground. He tucked his hand beneath his legs and carried him bridal style. 

“Class today is adjourned, and notes shall be passed so you study.” The students all cheered, but some had worried looks on their faces. Reece Mcrocal was not a very common name if it did not come to top students. He aced all his classes and had received the Valiant Victorian almost every other year. 

He was a complete teacher's pet and an introvert. His classmates walked out, crowding the locker room, the news quickly spreading. Aryan rushed to the parking lot. Security was there to help him unlock the car as he gently placed the hot body of the unconscious boy in the passenger seat. 

“Inform the nurse I have taken him to the hospital; he is running a temperature.” The security could only nod as Aryan drove away. He was not just any professor but a member of the school board; all respected him, and his words were final. 

Biology class was finally over. Clarkson Runs and Frida Amnell both sigh, frustratedly stepping out of the class. They were in almost every class together. 

Unlike the boastful teens they used to be, they have been in the weather all day. Slamming her locker so hard, Frida turns to Clark, sighing, her hands thrown a thousand times in the air within minutes. 

“Come on, stop it already; you're making me dizzy,” Clark complains, closing his locker. They had just one class to finally call it a day, but there was still no sign of Reece. 

“I swear his ass will be what I whoop so hard the moment he decides to show up. Who does this? I know it was bad of me to have left him last night knowing it was his first time, but that is not enough excuse to not want to see me, talk to me, or even answer my calls and text messages.” Clark just sighs as they walk their way to the cafeteria. 

He could only listen to the continued rambling of his best friend. Reece was their best friend and only other friend. While they were commonly referred to as the 3 musketeers, they did take pride in taking care of each other and looking out for each other. Clarkson was so caught up with Frida’s singing that he didn’t hear the students all chatting about the fainted student.

“Oh, here they come... Two musketeers... Where is the third?” Delora Catwell hissed, blocking their path. The daughter of the principal and most hideous bully in Fountain High. Frida stepped forward, standing at the same height as her. 

“Why don't you run off and go be Daddy’s little pet and leave us the fuck alone?” Clarkson was quick to pull Frida back. She was already in such a bad mood, and confronting Delora may only end in hair pulling or worse, detention, which he was certain Frida was rather too hyped for. 

“Let's go, it's not worth it; we have to look for Reece,” Clark whispers, pulling Frida away, but again, Delora and her minions were quick to stand in their way. 

“And where do you think you are headed to? I am not done with you, and when I am, you will be so sorry for yourself.” Delora and her minions laugh. 

“And what worse can you do? You're nothing but a toothless dog, and before you say you will report me to your father, the road is clear, my pitiful Sorrow.” Delora stood fuming in anger. Frida was one person not to mess with, especially when she was already angry, but Delora did not know that.

 “Aren't you looking for your sweet friend? I heard he fainted in history class. I guess the birthday handover was not over, huh?” Frida turned her way, heading straight to the nurse's office, but Delora stood in her way. 

“No...no, you're not allowed to leave, not when I am not done with you.” Clarkson was tired of holding Frida back. He lets go of her, her body charging straight for Delora, her minions scrambling away for their safety, her first mid-air. Frida smirks, seeing the fear in her enemy's eyes. 

“Delora... You're nothing but sorrow. At times I can't help but wonder what your sweet daddy and mother were going through at the time of your birth to have pushed them so hard to name you “Sorrow,” but it is well. Scramble out of my way before I make you a replica of your name,” Frida threatened, and without a second thought, Delora’s minions pulled her away. Frida ran her way to the nurse's office, barging in without knocking. 

“Young lady, this is my office and not some nightclub,” the nurse cautioned, but Frida was in no mood to pay attention to her manners or greetings. She searched every bed, but there was no one.

 “Reece Mcrocal?” Frida asked the nurse, trying hard to catch her breath. 

“He isn't here; his teacher took him to the hospital.” Frida was on her way before the last words left the nurse's mouth, but stepping outside, she sighed, frustrated at her stupidity. She butted in yet again, making the nurse even more furious. 

“Hospital name?” she asked, but the nurse did not fancy her audacity and ruthlessness.

 “And how will I know which hospital Mr. Aryan Turker took him to?” She snaps at her, turning and taking her seat.

 “Do close the door as you leave, and more bashing in without knocking will be a week's detention, Ms. Amnell.” The name alone was enough to have Clarkson and Frida freeze on the spot.

 “Anybody but not Aryan Turker,” they cried.