The Gang Leader's Impostor

CHAPTER EIGHT

I walked out of the house with just a sandwich in hand, taking a big bite as I closed the gate behind me. Glancing at my watch, I cursed under my breath — I was late again. Dad's advice about making an entrance flashed in my mind, and I chuckled to myself. Maybe being fashionably late had its perks after all.

The neighborhood was quiet as I strolled down the familiar streets, the morning sun casting long shadows. But as I approached the bus stop, my mood soured instantly. Radley was there, as expected, his hands casually tucked into his pockets as he waved at me with that annoyingly cheerful smile plastered on his face. Something about the way he always seemed to be around rubbed me the wrong way, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it.

I stood next to him, taking another bite of my sandwich, trying to ignore his presence. Radley leaned towards me, still grinning like he had some inside joke I wasn't in on. "Did you walk here hoping I'd be waiting for you at the bus stop? Because if you missed me already, you could just tell me," he quipped.

I furrowed my eyebrows, irritation creeping in. Was this guy for real? Was this some new form of bullying?

"You know what, I'm busy right now. Can I ignore you some other time?" I shot back, finishing my sandwich and crumpling the tissue into a ball. Part of me wanted to aim it at the nearby bin, but I didn't trust my throwing skills enough not to embarrass myself in front of Radley, so I opted for stuffing it into my pocket instead.

Radley laughed beside me. “I don’t know what I did to you but you’re always so feisty when it comes to me. Tell me, did I do something to make you this angry?”

“The question should be, what didn’t you do to make me this angry?”

“Smart mouth. I like it.”

“Thinking isn’t your strong suit, is it? If you know I don’t like you, why do you keep showing up?”

Radley pretended to think. “Uh ... because why not?”

When the bus finally pulled up, I wasted no time getting on, eager to escape Radley's relentless cheerfulness. But of course, he followed suit and settled in next to me, despite the bus being half-empty. I clenched my jaw and pulled out my earphones, hoping to find some semblance of peace in music.

My moment of silence lasted all of about thirty seconds before Radley leaned over and plucked one of my earbuds out. "Arctic Monkeys? You listen to them too?" he exclaimed with what I can only describe as an exaggerated surprise.

I sighed inwardly, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. "Yeah, so what?" I muttered, trying to keep my tone neutral.

Radley seemed undeterred by my lack of enthusiasm. "No way! I love Arctic Monkeys. Have you heard of their new album? It's insane!"

I reluctantly nodded, not really wanting to engage but finding it difficult to shut him down completely. "Yeah, it's alright," I replied shortly, hoping he'd take the hint and leave me alone.

Instead, Radley launched into a detailed review of the album, talking animatedly about his favorite tracks and how he thought they compared to the band's earlier work. I stared out the window, tuning him out as best as I could while pretending to be interested.

As the bus rumbled along its route, I couldn't help but wonder why Radley was so fixated on me. We weren't friends — far from it, actually. He seemed to find amusement in annoying me at every opportunity, and I was starting to get tired of his constant presence.

The bus finally reached our school, and I practically sprinted off, grateful for the chance to escape Radley's chatter. He called after me, something about walking to our first class together, but I didn't bother responding.

As I walked to class five minutes after the bell rang, I could feel their gazes trailing me, curious and indispensable. The whispers and stares were almost palpable, but I kept my head high, shoulders squared, refusing to let it bother me even though I would like nothing but to just disappear. I could see Mr. Thompson at the front of the room, already in the middle of the attendance check. I made my way to my usual seat near the window, beside Radley’s seat, and settled in.

I made a point to meet the eyes of each of my classmates, a silent challenge, before turning my attention to the window. The trees outside swayed gently in the breeze, a stark contrast to the tension in the room. I pretended not to care, letting my mind drift as I stared at the greenery. It was easier to focus on the outside world than on the complicated dynamics inside the classroom.

A minute later, Radley strolled in, his arrival causing a slight stir. He slid into the seat next to me without a word. I didn't bother glancing at him either, keeping my eyes fixed on the window. The last thing I needed was more of Radley's overbearing enthusiasm.

Mr. Thompson's voice droned on, calling out names, and I tuned it out, focusing instead on the distant sounds of the world outside. Birds chirped, a car honked in the distance, and for a moment, I could almost forget I was here, surrounded by people I didn't quite fit in with.

Radley, of course, couldn't leave me well enough alone. He leaned over slightly, his presence a huge annoyance. "Guess what? I talked to Mr. T and he's totally cool with us partnering for the project," he whispered, as if this was the most exciting news ever.

I turned to look at him. “What project?”

“I forgot but I wrote it down. Here,” he said and handed me a folded sheet of paper.

I clenched my jaw, resisting the urge to snap at him. "I didn't ask for a partner," I muttered, keeping my voice low but firm.

Radley shrugged, undeterred. "Yeah, but two heads are better than one, right? Plus, it'll be fun."

Fun. Right. That's exactly what I needed — more forced social interaction under the guise of a stupid project. I took a deep breath, trying to keep my irritation in check. "Fine. Just don't expect me to do all the work," I replied and grabbed the sheet of paper from him.

The rest of the class passed in a blur, Mr. Thompson's voice a constant background hum. Radley, thankfully, didn't try to engage me further, though I could feel him occasionally glancing my way.

When the bell rang, signaling the end of class, Mr. Thompson left the room. I stood up, gathering my things, eager to leave. Just as I was about to step out, a group of guys walked in, effectively blocking my path. I met their gazes and immediately recognized the type — the self-assured, good-looking bullies who thought they were above the rules, judging by the way they wore their uniforms.

I set my bag back down on my desk, stuffing my hands in my pockets in a feeble attempt to look cool. In reality, I was shaking. If these guys were looking for a fight, I was done for.

The tallest one, who seemed to be their leader, took a step forward. "So, you're the new guy everyone's been talking about?" he asked, his voice dripping with casual menace.

I nodded, not breaking eye contact, trying to hide my growing fear.

The tall guy nodded back, a smirk playing on his lips. I braced myself for the worst, convinced I was about to be humiliated or worse. But instead, he extended his hand. "I'm Zack. Do you wanna be friends?"

The offer caught me off guard. I stared at his outstretched hand, unsure of what to make of it. Was this some kind of trick? A setup for a cruel prank? If I took his hand, was he gonna use it as a chance to land a huge punch on me?

Radley, who had been watching the whole exchange with interest, leaned in slightly as if to see my reaction. I swallowed hard, my mind racing. If I refused, I might provoke them. If I accepted, who knew what I was getting myself into?

I decided to take the gamble. I reached out and shook Zack's hand, trying to steady my nerves. "I'm Alex," I replied, my voice steadier than I felt.