Sciamachy - CH. 7, p.2

"Though Police officers should be the ones who help, these might surprise you by being the actual doom." - Unknown

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The crowd of students flowed down a path of concern the same way I was. Yet, with one great difference; they had nothing to worry about. I was about to send someone to prison just because a girl I thought wasn't as tough as she pretended she was to be couldn't stand me.

The mood of the students swirled in unseen prevalence's beneath the surface of their faces. In all of the thirty students, there wasn't a single smile or expression of carefreeness. Except for Hannah's face that was graced by a satisfied smirk.

A sharp pain passed through my ears from all the screaming and the radiating concern all around me. I couldn't focus. I closed my eyes for a moment, took a deep breath and opened them again. There he was. A couple meters straight right from me. He stood more at the end of the room, and seemed to be in a heated argument with four other guys, including Derek. I walked towards him, while the police came up to his group and took three of his friend out to a quieter and less crowded space inside the room. He looked up and I saw the anxiousness and tenderness in his eyes while looking at the policemen that took his friends away. I stopped right before him, and his friend gave him a quick glance before he went away to talk with someone else.

"Where do you have them?", I whispered, out of breath. I hated crowded places.

Taylor didn't respond, his eyes were still focused on the police men that took his friends away, "Are they still in your bag?" I asked to get his attention back to the real problem.

"No," he replied. I sighed out of relief, but then realized how he swallowed. My relief was replaced by worry when he finished his next sentence, "I have them on me."

"You have them on you?," I hissed and he leaned forward. I felt his breath on my skin. His voice lowered and was such a quiet whisper I barely heard it, "They're in my jeans pocket."

I leaned back and gasped.

"In your jeans?", I whispered, and really had a hard time keeping down my voice, "are you insane? They'll find them right away."

He looked into my eyes and I saw regret for the first time in his eyes. Regret didn't suit him; he was more of an arrogant kind that a sorrowful one. It looked wrong on him, like it was out of place.

"Come with me," I took his wrist and pulled him further to the right against the wall and I looked up, "please trust me."

I looked back at his group of friends and realized that the policemen just finished searching through his friends. His eyes were watching me while I looked to every side someone could come towards me, and then put my hand into his front jean pocket. He still watched me, not really noticing what I was doing, until I put his jacket over my shoulder and put the weed in my front pocket.

"What are you doing?", he hissed, his eyes now filled with concern. Again, this emotion in his eyes felt out of place. But the longer I looked into it, it seemed rightful...like care.

"I'm saving you," I whispered back, putting his jacket down.

"Are you out of your mind? Melea, I won't let you...", I stopped him by putting my jacket down, "shhh, they're coming."

I realized that they were already walking towards us. I quickly glanced at Taylor, and saw from the corner of my eye that they near us. I looked back at him once more, before leaving him to find a place to hide his dirty secret. There was a room, a room that was adjacent to the one we were in. The door was open, and most of the students that had already been searched were in there talking. That room could be mine and Taylor's saving grace.

"Melea, come here," Taylor hissed but I didn't turn around. I was going to do it. I had already made my decision and wouldn't change it now.

"Melea, please come back," he tried again and took my hand, but I shook him off. I saw from the corner of my eye how a policeman grabbed his arm, while two others were standing next to him, watching Taylors every move.

"We'd like to see through your things to see if you carry anything with you that might be illegal. We'll explain the process to you back there," one of the two said, and showed Taylor with a gesture where he would be going. I knew that Taylor was still looking at me. From the corner of my eye, I saw that he nodded, and the policemen turned around to look for two more students.

"Melea, please don't do this. Please come back," he whispered quietly. The room was suddenly much quieter. Students stopped talking. The policemen have had enough. The only sound was the student's feet on the aging flow and the strong howl of the wind that rose up outside. One of the policemen turned around and saw him looking at me. I began to walk faster, tightening my grip on my jacket to cover up my jean pockets. But I realized he'd slowly followed me.

I walked even faster and arrived at the adjacent, much smaller room. It was quieter here, and much more in order, building up a great contrast to the room just a couple of meters away from it. I looked through the room and buried my hand into my jean pocket. I needed something to hide the drugs in, I knew the policemen was following me. He knew something was up.

I went further into the room and ran past some students when I found it; a small side table, that was shaped like a bedside table with three drawers. My breath came in small spurts, hot and nervous. My lungs and heart were pumping, but the air didn't seem to be enough, panic trembling in my exhausted body. As quick as I possibly could, I kneeled down, shoved the last one open, pulled my jacket forward, put the transparent package in there and closed it again. I stood up, adjusted my jacket and tried to look as bored as I could, looking through the room. Act. Don't let it show.

As expected, the policeman entered the room and when he saw me, he approached me directly. The other student began to whisper and looked at the policeman, then at me.

"Hello Miss...", he asked and his voice was deep, almost too deep to be realistic, but I pulled myself together to focus on the important thing. Don't let it show.

"Aldridge," I replied with a bright smile, "Aldridge. Did we already have the pleasure? ", he then asked and I shook my head, "No, we haven't Sir."

"Then you aren't allowed to be in this room," he responded and frowned. Act.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know. I just tried to go somewhere quieter. It's a mess in there," I replied and an even wider smile graced my face. Was I authentic? Did my smile look real enough? Was it enough to not only fool the students behind us, but a trained police officer as well?

"Indeed. Why don't you come with me and we do your check now?" , he smiled and with that, my tense muscles loosened themselves, "Of course."

I followed the policemen out of the room, and the students stopped whispering and started talking about themselves again. I looked back at the side table and the closed drawer. And just hoped, no one would ever open that drawer again.

"Okay students! This, um, accident, really messed with our schedule, but that's okay. We will use two small buses, the first half of the students on my list drive with bus one, the second half with bus two and we'll meet at the dining hall. Unfortunately, you won't have free time, just a ten-minute break to get ready. In regards of the police search," the teacher's voice raised itself, "they believe it was just another prank call, and I hope they're right with that," the students began to whisper again, "however, allof you should be aware that any forms of drugs, including alcohol or cigarettes, are forbidden on this class trip and will result in a suspension if present," the general mumbling stopped.

"Now please get ready and we'll meet in front of the Hotel in ten minutes."

"Why would someone do something like that? That was such a waste of time," Sofia murmured when we were already up in our room. She opened her closet and grabbed a skirt and a blouse.

"Even I felt scared and I was only carrying rum pralines with me," Veronica replied putting on her top, "How about this?"

"Suits you well," Sofia kept brushing on their hair, "I really don't get why someone would call the police. I mean, they didn't find anything anyway. That was such a stupid move."

"It was Hannah," I interrupted suddenly, still sitting on the bed without any idea what to wear. My thoughts had been occupied otherwise. I was lucky that they went without checking the room. I was lucky that I knew how to put on a fake smile. But I still couldn't comprehend why Hannah would want to do this to me. Or what would happen to the drugs now.

"Hannah?", Sofia stopped brushing and sat down next to me on the bed, "Yes," I answered, and Veronica turned around too, "She saw me down the hall with weed and probably called the police," I added.

"Weed?", shrieked Veronica, and her Voice was about three octaves higher than usual, "since when do you take drugs?"

"I don't," I replied, "Then why did have them?", Sofia asked, stroking reassuringly over my arm, "They were Taylor's," I murmured and swallowed.

"Woo, wait," Veronica came up closer, "Taylor takes weed?"

"No, he doesn't," I replied and leaned myself against Sofia. Veronica frowned, confused and sat herself down on my bed, "so, he deals?"

"He doesn't deal either."

Veronica's facial expression was exactly how I felt – confused, surprised, but exhausted and tired. "What is he doing with the drugs then?," she asked slowly.

"I don't know, he won't tell me," I admitted, "I took them during the police search when they took him."

"You did what?", Veronica shouted, and got a mad glance from Sofia, "Where are the drugs now?", Sofia tried to focus the conversation back on the essential part.

"I put them in the drawer of the side table in the room that is adjacent to the one we always meet in," Sofia nodded, "Does Taylor know?"

I shook my head, "no, I haven't seen him since."

"That's really messed up Melea," Veronica mumbled "you should tell him that they're there, and then tell him to screw his drugs."

We were all quiet for a moment. The Silence between us was somewhat comforting, but somewhat so full of concern that it scared me. I was happy when Sofia continued the conversation.

"Can I ask you something?", I shook my head for a yes, and she went on, "Why are you helping him?"

I gasped for breath shortly, and thought about her words for a minute. Why did I? Was it for the kick? Was it for the adrenaline? Or was it because that was the kind of person I was? No, it was something else.

I sighed deeply to give me courage, then I looked up into Sofia's eyes, full of concern, admitting something I hated to admit, "because I begin to trust him."

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Sciamachy - a battle against imaginary enemies; fighting your own shadow.