Page 22 of Don't Let Go

I sat on my bed, crossing my arms over my chest.

There were two things I could do. One, ignore the noise and try to act like it wasn’t drilling into my skull, killing my brain cells. Or two, force my way into his room—I had the spare key—and turn it down myself.

A picture of my best friends and me at the state fair last year vibrated off the nail it was hanging on and crashed to the floor.

I had my answer.

After running a hand over my hair to fix the crazed wisps, I marched out of my room. His door was only two yards away from mine. I tried the doorknob, but it was locked.

I pounded on the door, and still nothing.

I put the key in the lock and twisted it.

It didn’t occur to me until I pushed the door open that Tyler might be naked, and I’d be walking into something that would scar me for life.

The door smacked against the wall, and the hall light poured into his darkened room. Tyler lay in his bed in complete darkness, motionless.

How could he be asleep with this noise blasting?

The floor trembled as I stomped over the carpet to turn it down. The power button glowed red on the stereo. I hit it, and silence rushed in. Almost deafening in itself.

Tyler sat up on his elbows and glared at me. “What the hell?”

I walked back to the door. “Please keep the music down. I know you’re new, but some of us are trying to concentrate on homework.”

I didn’t dare look over my shoulder. His dark eyes pierced into my back like darts into a board, drawing closer to the bullseye.

When I returned to my room, I turned my music back on, only to have it scream Beethoven, scaring the crap out of me. It took me a moment to gather myself and find the volume decrease button on my computer.

Knocking came from the shared wall. “Your music sucks! You turned mine off only to play yours?” I’m pretty sure he muttered other things too that didn’t quite make it through the wall.

Best not to reply. We’d argue all night, and he wasn’t worth it.

11

Tyler

I was too proud to carpool to South Ridge High with Rory, and my ego didn’t allow me to tail her to school either. I didn’t need to play follow the leader like we were in elementary school. Besides, if I got lost, wasn’t that why I had a smartphone with GPS?

“You’ve arrived,” the woman on my map app said, mocking me.

“Thanks a lot,” I muttered, turning off the navigation. As I pulled into the student parking lot, I realized two things. The first was there weren’t a whole lot of cars. It was about half full. So, either a lot of students were late or not that many had cars. The second was beside the shiny cherry red Charger and the silver Porsche parked upfront by a large purple building. My car was the flashiest in the entire lot. The hairs on the back ofmy neck stood up. Shit, my car was going to be wrenched on or damaged by the end of the day.

As I crossed the street toward the school, I hit the lock button on my key fob, alarming my car.

A group of three guys, two about my size and one a little taller, whistled as they saw my Rolls-Royce’s lights flash.

“Oh, what do we have here?” the taller guy said, wiggling his eyebrows.

The guy with shaggy brown hair jumped the curb with his beat-up skateboard. “Looky what we got here. Aren’t you too rich and high class to slum it here?”

“Yeah, money bags. Shouldn’t you be in private school?” the third guy with dreads said, eyeing my car like a jewelry thief inspecting a glass case of priceless rings.

I rubbed my nose with the side of my hand. It hurt to bite the comments I wanted to shout back.

Not the best way to enter your new high school.

I shrugged and kept walking. The three guys followed me. The tallest one pushed me into the wall, ripping a poster about an upcoming dance.

---