Page 14 of Science Project

Oh yeah. Last night, when I had gone to the football game—why did I think that’d be a good idea?!—to warn Imani about Poison, Kai, the quiet hacker from Poison, had put a gun to my stomach and warned me to stay away from her.

“It’s fine,” I grumbled, staring out the window at the orange and brown leaves.

She paused. “I also … kinda wanted to ask you about the pharmacy.”

I arched a brow. The pharmacy?

The only reason that Poison ever wanted to talk to me was because I worked at the pharmacy. They wanted drugs, not to sell, but for more personal reasons. And Imani had been hanging out with them a lot lately. It was almost as if they all had become a couple or a throuple or whatever their relationship was.

“Is this about João?” I asked.

She chewed on the inside of her cheek. “Maybe …”

“You want information about why he needs that medication from me?”

“No,” she said quickly. “I know why he needs it. I just want to know who else gets it too.”

Who else was prescribed medication specifically for HIV?

I tensed. “You know I can’t give you that kind of information, Imani.”

“Please, Akio,” she begged, grabbing my hand. “It’s important to me.”

After pulling my hand out of hers, I looked toward the doors to make sure our parents weren’t listening in on our conversation, then lowered my voice. “I’ll tell you, if you promise to hang out with me this week, maybe study for Barnes’s class with me.”

“Why do you want me to hang out with you?” she asked.

Well, I really couldn’t tell her that I had been desperately trying to get my mind off last week with Nicole. Because she hated Nicole. But also because I didn’t want all the questions about what had happened or the drama leaking out to anyone else.

Especially Mom.

So, I glanced down at my feet, jaw twitching. “Because, Imani, nobody else understands what it’s like to have parents like ours. The other rich kids become like their parents, and the kids who live in the slums hate us. I don’t …” I swallowed hard and shook my head. “I don’t have anyone else to talk to about this shit.”

Great semi-lie, Akio.

Though … it was partly true. I didn’t have any friends who understood the struggle of having parents who were fucking psychotic sometimes. Imani’s parents weren’t as bad as Mom was in terms of … hurting and killing people, but I saw the expectations they had for Imani.

Imani nodded. “In exchange for names, I’ll hang out with you. We can go get ice cream with Allie or something.”

I pushed my glasses up my nose. “Really?”

“Yes, really.”

After I nodded as a thank-you, we returned to the other room just as Dad pushed in his chair. I blew out a breath, said goodbye to Imani and her mother, thanked myself for thinking ahead and bringing my own car here today.

When the front door shut behind us, Dad cleared his throat. “Your mother?—”

“I have something to do,” I said, hurrying down the walkway to my car.

Nicole hadn’t been in school for days now—thankfully, our project wasn’t due until the end of the semester—but her being absent meant that I hadn’t been able to return her clothes. And I wanted to make sure she was okay.

“Akio!” Dad called.

But I had already slipped into the driver’s seat of my car. “I’ll be home later.”

A few hours later, after I had found her address, I pulled onto the curb in front of Nicole’s house. I grabbed her fresh clothes from the backseat, walked to the front door, and knocked a few times. When nobody answered—although I knew she was home by her car in the driveway—I knocked again.

Someone shouted from inside the house.

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