"I don't know how to repay you," I murmured.
"No need, you'll help me with models someday, and that's it. This clothing isn't really that important. People want to wear branded clothes, and what I do isn't considered cool," she replied.
"No, why? I like it. I just have a quiet style," I said.
"Really? That's some friendship you have," she glanced at the Morties and continued, "If this is the last time we're seeing each other, I'd like to give you a heads-up. If you're friends with the Morties, you need to know they're big on jealousy and ownership. You're a good guy; I wouldn't want you to get killed. If you're also friends with Demi, although I doubt that, it's better not to make her feel weak or touch her sore spot. And stay away when she's angry. Never go against her. Among many things, she can make your life more unbearable than it already is. Maybe even lead to your death."
"Where do you know all this from?" I exhaled. "I didn't know the mafia could be so ruthless."
"I've been friends with her for almost 10 years. Life with her is unpredictable. But don't mind their quirks. Those can be not just jokes, but also insults; remember, they won't offend easily."
"For now, they're only avenging my wrongdoers," I rubbed my neck.
"That's now. But if the Morties find something dangerous in you, for them, everything could turn around. Like Grace, he's quite possessive. If you make another friend, for example, he'll be very jealous. You should introduce him or act like you're indifferent to that friend. So that he's convinced you're not putting that friend in his place. Being friends with him is challenging; when you become friends with someone, you could say you're possessing that person. In the mafia, that's normal, not so much among regular people. It sounds funny, but he'll guard you like his favorite toy," the blonde girl smiled. Though I didn't want to be a toy, I smiled back. "You never know what these self-loving Morties might do."
"Thanks for the advice. I think it'll come in handy," I chuckled.
"We're dispersing now, just a couple of minutes left. " the brunette exclaimed. Rebecca nodded goodbye to me and went over to Demi for a couple of words.
"Well, I'm right. It's better than sitting in wet clothes," Grace floated towards me.
"Thanks," I said. Mort looked at me with surprise, examining if I had changed.
"You're welcome," he grinned, flashing his flawless white teeth. "Demi, are you coming?" he turned to his sister. She shot a sinister look, hugged her friend, and approached us. The black Jeep started, and we headed inside.
Now the students' gazes were different. They looked at me with respect and a bit of curiosity. We entered the classroom, and all eyes were on me. The mafia girl took her place, put on headphones with her usual indifference.
"What's happening here?" Karen, who had just entered the class, asked in surprise. "Oh my, what is this?"
"Karen, don't you know?" Julian...," the friend of the fashion leader began.
"Oh, so you're not an outcast anymore?" the brunette said, approaching closer. "Nice outfit you've got there."
"Oh no, our nerd finally found some money for decent clothes?" Luke approached, giggling. He had entered the class a couple of seconds ago too. "What's this rag you're wearing? Finally found money for proper attire?"
"He had proper clothes before this too," Lisa rolled her eyes.
"What-what-what?! I saw that it was the outfit of an underdog," Forrest chimed in.
"Decent clothes," the girl chirped. I was surprised. Why did Lisa suddenly take my side so fiercely? What's the secret behind it?
"Come here!" Luke hissed and lunged at me. Everyone parted. "So now you're a fashionista?"
"Are you really going to tear his clothes right now, designer of the Junior Mafia?" a cold voice rang out. Forrest, who had been holding onto my jacket's collar, flinched. He probably remembered his morning experience. "Rebecca, oh, how she hates it when her things are ruined. I won't even argue. I'll record a video of this, how she's torturing you, and show it to your parents. How enticing... they'll probably jump into the grave for you."
Suddenly, Grace burst into the classroom. Seeing us, he squinted, rushed to the guy, and grabbed him by the collar, punching him in the face. The guy didn't even flinch. And when Mort was done, he hissed furiously like a snake.
"What do you want from him?! Don't mess with me, or I'll definitely take you out of this world!"
"Calm down, he's only this bold with classmates. Let's see what he tells my friends this evening," the blonde continued, sweetly smiling.
Forrest seemed to recall that his ordeal wasn't over. He grabbed his head and started screaming. I turned my head and saw Demi. Her cheeky smile appeared and disappeared. It seemed like her hazel eyes were gradually filling with a reddish hue. Who is she? Who is she really? The boss of the Junior Mafia, Grace's sister, Mort' daughter complete the puzzle. A piece that hides among the identical ones. I want to find that answer.