Chapter 4 Iver High School

He was interrupted by a hit in the back with a jack from behind. He fell to the floor in pain.

Jules stood up immediately. "Dad, is that you?" "No, it's me." "Peter!" She rushed to embrace him tightly; she had never been happier to see anyone in her life. "Thank you so much," she said amidst sobs. She then turned to look at Jamie, who was rolling in pain on the wooden floor. "Is he going to be fine?" "Sure, I made sure not to hit any vital part of his body. Should I call the cops now?" Jules looked at Peter. "You don't want to?" "I just want to be out of here. Take me out of here." "Okay, let's go." They both turned away but were interrupted by Jamie who attacked Peter. There was a squabble between the guys with Jules's yelling of stop, till Peter beat him up and him in his place.

"Are you okay?" "Yes." "Glad to know. Hope you can walk? Like you're limping, do your feet hurt?" "A little." Then immediately, without much hesitation, he stooped to her feet and scooped her into his arms. Jules held on tightly. For the first moment that night, she felt loved.

He had parked his old van a yard away from the main building because he wasn't certain of what he was going to meet. Soon, they were in front of the van, and he let her down and into the van. Soon they were on the road.

"Where are we going?" Jules asked calmly, still in awe of his kindness. "My place" he turned to smile at her. "How about your mum?" "Oh, she knows about you." "Okay." Jules sank into the chair and shut her eyes. She could feel a tear trickle down her cheeks. "I'm sorry, Peter." He turned to look at her and turn back to face the road. "How did you know I was here?" "I just figured. After what I heard at the party, I figured you'd come home, and I just wanted to make sure you're okay. I know it sounds creepy, but I've actually been following you. I just didn't trust Jayden. I knew he was up to something." Jules didn't say anything. They were both quiet till Peter stopped the car. "We're here."

One month ago....

Location: Iver High School

It was the regular high school scene. The hallway was busy with students scampering to get to their classes. Boys making jokes on one side, girls screaming for whatever reason, nerds walking alone with their bags full of books piling up books and arranging lockers, the janitor with a mop cleaning an area with a wet floor sign ahead, and a voice from the speakers, "Taylor Brown report to the Principal's Office."

Penelope Jones stood frustrated at the pile of books that fell from her locker. Oh, God! Not now. She was already late for her history class, and she hated being late. She could risk forgetting her pen and notes just to be in class before the history teacher, Mr. Sanders, got in. She hated being in the spotlight, let alone being embarrassed while in it.

Jules. She bent down to quickly clean up her mess when she felt a spank on her shoulders. "What's up, P? Thought you'd be in class" "Yeah, I would have. If this locker had some sense not to spill the stuff I put in it," she sounded distressed. "Don't just stand there, help me!" "Say please." "Jules!" "Sorry, calm down." They ended up with a bigger mess and had to fight to shut the locker door. After much frantic effort, the metal locker closed, with a bulge and their backs pressed to it. "You know, you really need to work on decongesting that." "I know, I know, let's go. We're late." Penelope dragged an exhausted Jules and her heavy backpack down the hallway and to class. She focused on getting to class before the teacher ignored all Jules's questions about the weekend, and her glasses almost fell from her face.

Luckily, they got in just in time, and Jules was above grateful because she wasn't ready for the drama from Penelope. Penelope was obsessed with maintaining a good record. She was a good student; she studied, was the most active member of the school book club, and kept every school rule: from not doing drugs to not being late. She practically lived out the word 'introvert'-no parties, no boyfriends, no cheerleading or sports, no dancing, no singing, and no friends- Jules was her only friend, and their friendship was a real one.

Peter was certain of his lateness after the bus he got into got held up in traffic. He wasn't bothered anyway; not like being in class early ever earned anyone good grades. Worse still, he always zoned out in class, so he didn't see the point.

The hallway was almost empty when he got in, further stressing how late he was; most people had gone to their classes. He stopped by his locker to get a note. His locker was different. It had very few books in it, but he had many pens, stencils, brushes, pallets, bottles of paint, and paint stains all over. Peter was an artist more than he was a high school student. Art was his safe place, away from the world that didn't give him what he wished for the most --- an identity, and left him alone and confused.

No one would ever suspect Peter was an artist. He looked different from what regular artists looked like: very skinny, unkempt hair, square glasses, and traces of paint in their fingernails. Peter was built, biceps well defined, and tall. He was nothing short of good-looking. One would think that he would be a star football player, but Peter had no interest in sports. He couldn't kick a ball to save his life. He was more into things that were calm and solemn, art and music. A total irony for a good-looking guy.

However, to be a 'cool kid in Iver High, looks were not enough. Peter wasn't as wealthy as most students in the school. In fact, he was on a scholarship; his mum's return from the coffee shop she owned wasn't enough to cater for both of them as well as foot the fees of Iver High. Plus, his clothes were not extravagant. He wore basic outfits; a t-shirt and jeans with the cheapest sneakers possible. Hence, he passed unnoticed. Peter also didn't have friends; his taciturn nature was to blame for that. Coupled with the fact that no one was drawn to someone who wore basic clothes, Peter never started a conversation or held one when the need arose.