- Bry

"Be careful who you trust. Salt and sugar look the same."

~ Steven Covey

Recap:

"Calm your titties down, Bry," he said playfully. I smacked his arm and he winced, rubbing his bicep. "Uh... ouch!" he said, weather loudly.

I flashed him the middle finger before running away, hearing the unmistakable sound of his heavy footsteps behind me.

And that was when two large hands grabbed my waist and pulled me into the janitor's closet.

~~~~~

Nerves wracked through my body. This is it. This is how I'm gonna die, so I started reciting my last words. "Daniel, I love you so very much. Thank you for being the best big brother I could ever ask for. Michael, thank you for being so overprotective of me and for trusting me with your secret. I've kept my promise to never tell a soul-"

"What... what are you doing?" a voice asked. I looked up and it was none other than Ryder and me in the Janitor's closet.

"Well, I was saying my last few words, because, in movies, this is usually the part where the girl gets killed by the mad man and then the mad man goes and kills the rest of the school-"

"You are one weird chick," he said, shaking his head.

"I'm not weird, I'm limited edition," I respond proudly.

He chuckled and ran his finger over my blossoming bruise, making me shudder. His eyes held anger, but it wasn't directed towards me. It looked like he was fighting with himself, but I couldn't be sure of it.

I took a moment to admire his features. His tanned, defined cheekbones, wavy black hair, beautiful blue eyes, and full lips. Damn, what a sight. Bry, don't think about him like that. For all you know, he could be apart of a gang or even worse, the mafia, an inner voice said. I shook the ridiculous thought out of my head.

But little did she know that what she said was true...

"Like what you see?" Ryder asked, his voice husky. I blushed and looked away.

"Well, to be honest, not really. You see, we're stuck in a janitor's closet, and I see a bunch of toilet paper rolls, a mop, some brown water, which if I might say, is quite disgusting-"

He laughed, causing me to smile. His laugh was such a melodic sound that I would have done anything at that moment to hear it again. What in the world is happening to me?

"I- nevermind." He pulls out his phone and begins texting someone.

"So," I say, fiddling with the bracelet on my arm. "Can I come out now?" He looks up at me and realizes we're still in the closet. The bell had rung five minutes ago, which meant that I was going to be late.

"Uh... yeah, sure," he said, looking back at his phone. I walked out of the janitor's closet confused. Why did he bring me in there in the first place?

I stop at my Health class and barge into the room, ready to make a big entrance, when everyone is already looking at me. Great. Just great. They ruined my plans.

I pout and take a seat at the back, not wanting to attract more attention even though I just tried to.

"Hey, there, sexy," some jock says, making me gag internally. With a sigh, I turn around and see none other than Tyler, the playboy of our school. I swear he's slept with like every single girl in this school, well except for me.

"Wanna pull a quickie after class?" he asks, trying to smoulder, but he ends up looking constipated.

"Um, no thank you," I say politely.

"Mr. Tyler. No talking in our class. Were you even paying attention?" our teacher, Mrs. Adam asks.

"Yes," he replies.

"What topic were we just talking about"

"Sex," Tyler says, smirking.

"Good. And this is the most important part about this. Sex is cleaner with a packaged weiner, or as others might say, wrap it before you tap it."

The class burst into laughter, and I couldn't help but laugh as well. Mrs. Adam was the best teacher ever.

The bell rang once again, and we packed up all of our belongings. I met Michael outside the classroom door to find him smiling.

"Why are you so happy?" I ask him. He chuckles, and says, "do you remember that time when you were around 5 years old, and it was Christmas. You said you wanted to trap Santa Claus in your house, that way you could a present whenever you wanted to. You used milk and cookies as bait, but then you started to get hungry and decided to eat them."

I laughed, remembering that event. I also remember that my parents were still with me when that happened. But now they're gone, and the police couldn't even find their bodies. I started to sob as all of the happy memories of them returned to me.

Flashback:

"Bry Bry, I'm gonna find you," my dad said, making me giggle. He opened my closet door, and I sucked in a breath, hoping he wouldn't see me. "Where oh where could that girl be? I've been looking so long, I guess I'll just give up."

I smiled, knowing I was going to win.

"Achoo!"

"Bless you!" I replied automatically. I covered my mouth a hoped he didn't hear me...

"Found you!" he yelled, tickling my sides, making me laugh uncontrollably.

"Hey! That's not fair. You did that so you could find me!" I pouted, crossing my hands over my chest.

"But that's because you were such a good hider," he said, making me proud. "How about I make it up to you and we can go and get ice-cream," he says, lighting a smile on my face.

"YES!" I shout, doing a happy dance.

Michael wrapped his arms around me tightly and let me cry into his shoulder. My parents were gone, and I would never be able to see them again. Ever.

"Let it out, Bry, let it out." Michael rubbed my back soothingly, causing me to sigh in content.

"How about we go home?" he asks, and I could hear the hope in his voice because whenever he asks me his question, I always say no.

"Sure," I reply, my voice wavering.

"But I really think we sho- wait, did the Bry Summers just agree to ditch with me?" Michael asks, jumping in the air. "Oh my gosh! She said yes! Okay, so now, we're not actually gonna go home. Let's go rob an ice-cream store and then grab a bunch of skittles from some store and watch a movie!" he says excitedly.

I shake my head amusingly. This is why he's my best friend.

"Okay, first of all, I make the rules. We're actually gonna rob an ice-cream store and then grab a bunch of skittles from some store and watch a movie at home," I say, smirking.

He shakes his head, laughing. "Well hurry up, fatass. I don't wanna waste any more time in this place."

Little did they know that they should have just stayed in school, where they wouldn't have gotten hurt.

We finally got to the parking lot, which was surprisingly quiet. A black BMW pulled up towards us and three men stepped out of the car. They were all muscular and carried guns with them. Hold up, why the hell am I so calm when these three buff trees are carrying guns with them?

Obviously, Michael was oblivious to the whole situation, because he continued to walk to the car. "Michael, get in the car," I say quietly.

"But I am-"

"Michael, just get in the car. Now," I hissed. He sensed my mood and didn't doubt me, for once.

"Are you Bry Summers?" one of the men asked.

"Depends... who's asking?" I reply.

"Um, I am," he says, confusedly.

"No, I'm not. My name is Jeff."

The guy scratched his head, looking utterly bewildered. "You know, you don't look like a Jeff," he says after a while.

"No way, really?" I ask sarcastically, ignoring the big factor of their guns.

"Yeah, you look more like an Emily or something," he says, running a hand through his hair. This guy-

"She's Bry Summers, dumbass," the one with red hair responds amusedly.

"But she said she was Jeff-"

"Hayden, just stop." He sighs, and I realize that Michael is just watching us in confusion. I forgot Michael was here-

"You're coming with us," was the last thing I heard before something was injected into my neck.