3. Athena - Overthinking Issues

"Hey, do you wanna go to Leon's?"

"Right now?"

"Yeah, you wanna. We don't have class, let's go." I tried to pull him away from our lockers towards the exit before he realized what was happening, but it was too late.

"Hey, Nikey boo!"

Nik shut his eyes, muttered something about God giving him strength, and then turned around.

"Hello, Elaine."

"Did you think about what I said last night?" I know what she said to him last night.

"I never said I would." I could feel his urge to grit his teeth radiating off him.

"So, is that a no?"

"You wouldn't know a no if it smacked you across the face and strangled you to death." I deadpanned.

I could think of a million good comebacks for that, but Elaine clearly couldn't think of a single one. Instead, she got red in the face to the point of steam coming out of her ears, opened and closed her mouth like a fish for a moment, and then stormed off.

"That little shit had the nerve to come talk to you about it." That was low. Even for Elaine.

Elaine was Nik's ex, the first and only girl he'd ever had feelings for. Blonde. Conventionally pretty. Was never seen in anything less than four-inch heels, the trendiest outfits, and immaculate makeup. She was more Barbie than Barbie herself, and had an equally wannabe-barbie-like group of girls that worshipped the very ground she walked on.

They'd dated for about a year and broke up about two months ago, when Nik had accidentally discovered that she was only dating him because her friends had dared her to date the hot, mysterious loner. I'll never understand what he saw in her but it'd taken him almost three weeks and four tubs of chocolate ice-cream to get over her.

And now she had the audacity to text him out of the blue to ask him if he wanted to be friends with benefits, because she missed the sex. It also might have something to do with having the hottest guy on her arm at senior prom.

The universe knows that I was not a friendly person in general, but what I felt for her was burning, unadulterated, hatred.

"Well, thanks for trying to drag me to Leon's."

"Eh." I shrugged. "It was worth a shot. Still wanna go?"

"Food sounds great right about now." He released a breath.

But that was not to be.

"Would Nikolai Ivanov please report to the principal's office? Nikolai Ivanov to the principal's office." The speakers roared.

Nik groaned loudly. "Please tell me there is another Nikolai Ivanov that I don't know of?"

"I'll wait for you at our table."

Whatever Principal Hawthorne wanted with Nik could definitely not be taking this long. And of course, I had to be the girl with overthinking issues.

So, I went to look for him.

"Mrs. Rhine." I walked up to the old lady at the reception desk.

"Hello dear." She replied looking up from her paperwork for a split second.

"Have you seen Nikolai? Principal Hawthorne called him a while ago."

"Mr. Ivanov? Oh yes. He was here. A talented young man like him was bound to be noticed sooner or later. In my opinion, UCLA will be perfect for him. Mrs. Hawthorne gave him the day off for the tour. The head coach himself came to take him."

What? Literally nothing sounds right about that. I've never seen UCLA scouts in any of Nik's games. So, they just show up out of the blue and whisk him away? No invitation? But Nik would at least text me if he left. And what about calling parents? Does Mrs. C even know? Is it just me overthinking again?

"How long ago did he leave?"

"Oh, you missed him by seconds dear."

Oh well, maybe they haven't left yet. I made my way, almost jogged, towards the exit, classes be damned, while dialing Nik's number on my phone.

It went straight to voice-mail.

"Nik, you better have a bloody fantastic explanation for making me sit at Leon's alone for over half an hour, without ordering anything, like an idiot, and not calling or even texting, to tell me you were leaving!" I rattled off in one breath.

I ran the rest of the way to the car park and stopped behind a car when I heard voices. Two.

"Alright he's out."

"Damn, he'll be good. Put up one hell of a fight."

I cautiously peeked out from behind the car, my hand automatically reaching behind to the side of my bag where a small switchblade was concealed for self-defense purposes, and because I have an unhealthy obsession with knives.

What I saw chilled the blood in my veins to ice.

Nik, unconscious.

Two men standing over him, one with a whistle around his neck like a football coach.

A black car. Tinted windows. I quickly memorized the numbers on the number plate.

Thankfully I had my phone in my hands from attempting to call Nik. Just in case I couldn't do more, I quickly snapped a couple of pictures of the scene so at least I'd have proof of what happened to him and carefully put the precious evidence in my securely locked phone, deep inside my bag.

Then I slowly took the bag off my back and lowered it on the floor behind the car, retrieving my switchblade.

Whoever these men were, there was a high possibility of them being armed, and what I was about to do was extremely stupid.

But my best friend's life was at stake.

And I was prepared to die.

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