Red Herring ✔️

8. Bathroom Subterfuge

Mrs. Smith reigned in the classes' attention in the middle of the period when everyone started to doze off. Mazie tapped her dark red nails on the desk beside her blank notepad. Although she really needed to focus in this class, she couldn't seem to keep her mind on the subject. Monsters in books didn't compare to the real life monsters hiding in the forest. And she was still deciding if one in particular was friend or foe.

She hadn't seen him that morning expect the glimpse of the back of his head in the hallway on the way to class. But she was pretty sure that Christian hadn't spotted her.

"Demi, is my class boring you?" Mrs. Smith propped an angry fist on her hips.

The entire class turned to Demi who was lifting her head from her desk where she previously slumbered. Dark circles under her eyes aged her beyond high school. Beads of sweat dotted her forehead in a cold classroom.

Students snickered at Demi for getting called out by the teacher. When she realized all of the attention was directed at her, Demi nearly crumbled in tears. Demi's unwarranted disposition tugged at Mazie's heart strings.

But Demi was also clearly out of it. Her gaze was sharp, but her eyes were hazy, glassy. "My head hurts," Demi grumbled, hoping that was explanation enough.

Mazie was rising to her feet before Mrs. Smith could retort to her student. "Demi doesn't look so hot. Maybe I should take her to the office," Mazie offered respectfully.

Unable to hide her thoughts and emotions, Demi looked at her with confusion and distrust. Mrs. Smith mimicked that sentiment. She didn't know what she was doing herself, but this was an opportunity to be alone with Demi. She wouldn't let this chance slip through her fingers.

Finally, Mrs. Smith agreed. "Alright, Mazie, I expect you back here shortly."

Mazie pasted on her best fake smile. "Yes, ma'am."

Glancing sideways at her, Demi slowly rose to her feet. The entire process seemed painful. Mazie met Demi at the front of the class and guided her out of the room. But not before she caught the impact of Lonny Harrison's ice cold glare follow her out of the room. She read muderous intent in his eyes. If he didn't want anyone getting up close and personal with Demi, then he should take better care of her himself.

Tears brimming in her eyes, Demi wilted into Mazie's side. Mazie stumbled under her weight. She wrapped Demi's arm around her shoulders and lifted her up. Demi tripped over her own two feet, even with Mazie's assistance.

"Don't feel good. Might be sick," Demi warned her, slurring her words with a thick heavy tongue.

"Please not on my sweater," Mazie begged, talking more to herself than Demi.

Luckily, Demi didn't gag or dry heave as Mazie hauled her off to the girl's bathroom. Before anyone spotted them ,Mazie and Demi dodged into the bathroom, nearly dropping Demi's dead weight as she knocked the door open.

"Ow," Demi moaned, eyes tightly sealed shut in pain.

Unable to endure Demi's weight any longer, Mazie let Demi melt onto the floor underneath the twin automatic hand driers. Mazie crouched down in front of her, resting on her haunches. "Hey, you good?" If Demi planned on tossing her salad, Mazie wanted to insure it wouldn't be on the grimy floor.

"Good." Demi weakly held up a thumbs up.

Without permission, Mazie cupped Demi's face in her hands, gently pulling down the papery thin skin underneath her eyes to make sure that she was still in there somewhere. "What are you on?" Mazie whispered under her breath, thinking out loud.