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September 26

"Do you think she's okay? I don't."

I don't answer and neither does Marla. We don't know what else to tell Racheal who has already heard the entire story from both of us. She could hardly believe it, how someone as Riley could shut us out like this. We're friends. We have been friends for over three years. Ever since Marla and I found Riley sitting alone in the café, we've been inseparable. Racheal joined us soon after because she was the only one on the badminton team with me. How, then, after everything, can Riley get up and leave us for a boy?

Let alone a boy like Carlos.

"She called you a bitch," Racheal repeats in disbelief.

"Almost," Marla and I speak up in correction, looking at each other and laughing.

Racheal smiles too, folding her arms on the table and staring into the distance. Marla's phone rings and she starts telling Hashir everything that happened last night. As for me, I recline in my seat with my arms folded across my chest and my mind elsewhere.

"She didn't come today," Racheal notes.

I hum and nod, biting my lower lip. I hadn't expected her to show up. She was drinking last night, the signs of alcohol consumption written on her flushed face and evident in her unfiltered words. When I saw Carlos, though, I hoped I was wrong. If he could make it to school despite bleary eyes and drinking only water, Riley would too. She isn't accustomed to drinking, though, so probably took the day off.

As Marla talks to Hashir, Racheal begins biting the nail of her blue-painted thumb. As for me, I stare into the distance. I don't notice who I'm staring at until he raises his eyebrows, smiling from all the distance. I blink a couple of times, my perception catching up with my senses so that I realize Shane Gray is smiling at me.

"I saw Shane Gray last night," I mumble, telling no one in particular.

Seeing Riley and getting Marla to calm down so she wouldn't crash her car in anger, the thought of Shane had completely slipped my mind. Now, the image of him standing in that dark alley comes back to me, vivid and clear.

"Shane Gray? Where?" Racheal asks, looking towards his table.

I avert my gaze without a smile and Shane looks away too.

"At that party Riley was at," I tell Racheal.

"Really?" Racheal frowns, as surprised as I was when I saw him. "Shane isn't the party type. Are you sure it wasn't someone who looked like him?"

I shake my head. "I talked to him, it was definitely him."

"What was he doing there?"

I open my mouth but freeze, not really having an answer. What was Shane Gray doing? My first instinct is to say that he was taking some kind of pills without anyone noticing. That doesn't sound right, though, because anyone would automatically expect drugs.

My eyes rotate toward him and I see him laughing and talking as always, nothing different. Unlike Carlos who has bleary eyes and messy hair, Shane is neither hungover nor out of character. He's the same as ever, smiling, immaculately dressed. Perfect.

Sighing, I end up shrugging instead. "I asked him but he didn't give an answer so maybe he was there with his friends or something."

Racheal nods, still frowning. Marla hangs up at last, pissed off but more alert than she was a few minutes ago.

"Hashir says we need to do something," she announces.

And of course, because the mature college-student Hashir says so, Racheal nods. I don't have a problem with it, to be honest. We're still unsure how to act in such a situation. Neither being nice nor being bitches has been much use, I'm all ears if Hashir has a more practical plan.

"Carlos is a dick," Marla says. "We all know that. All except Riley that is. And she's not listening. Hashir thinks that we should take more drastic measures."

"Like what?" I ask.

"Like involving an adult."

Racheal gasps. "You mean, like, tell a teacher?"

"Or a parent," Marla adds.

"So we're telling Riley's dad that she's dating Carlos?" Racheal gasps, her eyes so wide I'm afraid they'll fall out.

"No, Rach, we just give him a hint."

"But ..." I intervene, frowning. "Won't that get Riley in trouble?"

"She'll hate us," Racheal agrees.

Marla exhales a breath, her brow furrowed. "Hashir says Carlos is a chronic drinker. And there's more. Hashir doesn't know how accurate that is but he's heard Carlos does drugs too. Remember that football match when Shane got hurt? Carlos had taken more than just a couple of drinks. Why else do you think coach made him sit that one out?"

"How does your boyfriend know so much about what's happening in our school when he's in another state?" I ask the more pressing question, wondering if we should be more worried about Hashir than we about Carlos.

"He has friends here," Marla tells us. "And he was pretty cool, unlike us. But that's not important. What's important is that we get Riley's dad on alert so that if things start getting out of hand, he can do something about it. I don't know about you guys, but I don't think anybody's going to be paying too much attention to what three teenage girls are saying about their friend's new boyfriend."

"But what will Riley say?" Racheal repeats, worry lines evident on her puffy-cheeked face.

"I agree with Marla," I say. "I would rather have Riley hating us but safe. Besides, it's not like she's loving us right now. I think we should talk to her dad."

"Great. When?" Marla asks seriously.

I raise my eyebrows at Racheal who finally sighs and nods.

"I know where Riley lives," I tell the girls. "I once went there for a sleepover and she sometimes comes over to my place too. I've met her dad too so he knows me a bit. If you guys want, I can drop by on my way home today. Just let Riley's dad know I came to ask how she's doing and if she's okay because she hasn't been doing so well."

Marla nods. "Don't mention Carlos."

"Or last night," I agree. "I'm just going to make it short and to the point."

My friends nod and we finally decide to put our plan into motion. As bad as feel for going behind Riley's back and ratting her out, it's for her own good. The thought of Riley drinking at a party with random people she has never met before is frightening. It would be another thing if Carlos was loyal to her and we were sure he'd watch out for her. After Hashir telling Marla that he uses drugs too -- though I don't know which and how often -- I'm not willing to risk it. I'm not going to let some high school crush ruin my friend's life.

No matter how badly she might want exactly that.

Because I've come to terms with the fact that neither my mom nor dad are going to be coming to school to pick me up, I take the bus home. I get down two stops from my house. I'll have to walk about thirty minutes to get home now, but I don't want to delay seeing Riley's dad for another day.

I ring the bell next to the small mahogany door, trying to catch my breath while I wait for someone to open the door. The lock clicks and I look up to find myself face to face with the well-groomed man I recognize as Riley's father.

"Mr. Parsons, hi," I greet, forcing a smile. "Is Riley home?"

I've seen him before a couple of times. He's always home when I visit, minding his own business and working around the house. Ever since he and his wife got divorced, he's been the only family Riley has. She has a sister too, who lives with her mom and is only in touch over the phone. Her dad, then, has always been around for her. Even though I sometimes find him getting too involved, he's been nothing but polite to me. 

He smiles, his blue eyes crinkling at the corners. "Taylor, right? Hey, how are you?"

"I'm good. Is Riley in?"

"She went out with some friends as far as I know," he answers, a smile resting on his lips.

"Oh, well, actually I ..." I hesitate, not knowing how to go about it. I rehearsed all my words over and over in my head during the bus ride here. Standing here now, though, my mind seems to feel heavy.

"Is there something you want to talk about?" the man asks.

I nod, relaxing a little. Although I've never had a proper conversation with him, Riley has always talked highly of him. If anyone can help Riley, it's him.

"Come in," he says, stepping aside.

With a low thank you, I enter the house I have been in so many times. Riley's dad closes the door behind us and he gestures towards the living room couch. I take a seat, glancing towards the stairs leading up to Riley's room. The man sits on the chair near me and leans forward, his eyes questioning.

"You seem worried," he notes.

I inhale a deep breath. "Actually, sir --"

"Please don't call me sir," he interrupts.

"Okay, Mr. Parsons," I comply, taken aback by nor only his words but also his manner.

"Oh, Taylor." The man shakes his head, smiling an amused smile. "You can call me by my name. Frank."

Confused, I stare at him with my mouth open. "You're my friend's father," I point out.

"But we can be friends too," he says softly. "I've always thought you're a good girl."

I continue to stare, not knowing what's going on.

"Smart. Pretty ..." he says, leaning forward and placing a hand on my thigh. "Sexy."

I jump, throwing his hand off as if it has electrocuted me.

"I'm your daughter's friend," I snap, my breath coming shallow and my heart beating fast.

The man rises to his feet. "I didn't say anything to you that I wouldn't say to anyone else," the man says, his tone soft and eyes watchful.

As for me, I'm not fooled. Without giving him a moment to utter another word, I spin on my heels and nearly run towards the door. Unlocking it with fumbling fingers, I exit into the driveway and race down the streets until I get back home. I don't look over my shoulder or slow down until I've made it into the safety of my house. As soon as I'm inside, I close the door and rest my back against it, breathless and panicking.

The buzzing of my phone in my pocket catches my attention and I pull it out to see Marla's number. I answer with trembling fingers, placing the phone to my ear and choking out a 'hello'.

"How'd it go?" she asks.

My breath catches in my throat and my eyes sting. A sob rips out of my throat and I slap a hand over my mouth, fighting back my tears.

"Tay? What's wrong, Taylor, are you crying?" Marla's voice gets high pitched.

I don't answer, unable to utter a sound as tears begin to roll down my cheeks and my knees wobble underneath me. Now that I'm no longer running, the realization catches up with me and I want to block it out. I don't even want to understand what just happened.

"Taylor, are you home? Answer me, Tay, I'm freaking out here."

"Yes," I choke out.

"I'm coming over, okay? Taylor, I'm coming now."

I sob and sniffle, dropping my phone to the ground as I slide down the door and curl up.

Finally, I cry.

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A/N: Views, guys? Would you save your friend or your friendship? Also, do you think Taylor is overreacting or is her panic understandable? What would you have done if you were in her place? Please do answer because I'm going to tell you something in the next chapter <3

P.S. I promised to share Taylor's picture but forgot. She's up in the media but I imagine her hair as darker. It's so hard finding Asian girls without bangs so :D