Chapter Eleven

           I’m lost. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do in this predicament. We didn’t talk at all yesterday. I hadn’t called her but on the other end of that situation, she hadn’t called me either. Was she over me, over us, already? Had I done something wrong on Saturday? I thought we’d had fun.

            Wait a minute. I’m not in the wrong here. I’m not the one who met up with my determined ex right after our first date.

            As if on cue, she walks through the school doors. She leans back against the closed doors and leans her head back as well. Her hair is veiling her face again. She then pushes off of the door and makes what looks like a long trek to her locker. The Starbucks cup in her right hand is raised to her lips for a drink.

            In spite of myself, I can’t help but notice how good she looks. She’s got on all black everything: black straight legged dickies, black high top Levis, black fitted t-shirt, black leather jacket, black nail polish, and all kinds of silver rings on her fingers. Her black bookbag hangs low on her back, not high like mine.

            I fall in step beside her.

            “What’s up?”

            “Hi.”

            “You look really good today.”

            “Funny. I don’t feel good.”

            “How come? What’s wrong?”

            She doesn’t respond.

            When we get to her locker, I wait while she loads and unloads.

            “How was the rest of your weekend?”

            She sighs. She sounds irritated.

            “It wasn’t that great, Will? In fact, it was terrible.”

            She takes another sip of her coffee then closes her locker. She just stands there in front of me, not looking at me.

            I grab her hand, “What’re you thinking? What happened?”

            She slowly pulls her hand from mine.

            “I’m thinking that I just want to be left alone today.”

            My face must ask a silent question because she goes on.

            “It’s just one of those days,” she says. The corner of her mouth twitches then she adds, “Don’t take it personal.”

            “But this is why I’m here.”

            “And this is why I’ve been single. I’m not used to telling someone I need space. It’s usually there for the taking.”

            “Fine. You want your space, you got it. At least tell me why.”

            “…No.”

            She walks away without another word.

            What is going on right now?

            Out of the corner of my eye, I see a girl with her phone pointed at me. What’s that about?

 

            I don’t feel I was harsh. I don’t want him to see my face. I don’t want to have to explain to him and I don’t want to explain why I’m not explaining. Mostly, I just want him to not know or not care. The first part is do-able but him not caring, that’s not going to happen.

            There are five important guys in my life. One of them claims he loves me. One of them wants to love me. Two of them love me more than anything or anyone, including each other. And one doesn’t love me at all. That should be proof enough that it’s possible to love me, right? Four out of five. But it’s not. Without the love of the man who helped create me, nothing matters.

            In class Mr. McCoy doesn’t pay me any notice which is great because I don’t have one clue as to what he was talking about. I’m too busy thinking about what Ms. Campbell said to me. Statistics said that more than fifty percent of girls in abusive circumstances don’t make it to college. Was that true? Was my death going to happen between now and the summer of my graduation? I’ve always tried to avoid thoughts of my possible demise. I’ve always held on to the fact that I’d planned my future to a tee and I couldn’t flake on those plans. I figure if I plan my life outside of his house, I’ll make it. But if what she said was true, what was the point? I’m going to die. Perhaps I should be planning for that. Perhaps I should be making a will instead of plans for college.

            Class ends quickly and I get out of there before Will decides that he couldn’t care less about what I want today. Then I remember there’s really no point in rushing to my next class. Julian’s there and he won’t take “Leave me alone” for an answer. He always was pretty aggressive when it came to my feelings excluding the Phylicia thing.

            I don’t even have time to really get comfortable before he’s there in my face.

            “What’s going on, Ken?”

            He’s in a good mood. It’s annoying.

            “Nothing but I have a headache so can we just put this convo on ice until later?”

            Being a good liar does come in handy.

            “Sure. Do you need anything?”

            “Nah. I just need silence.”

            “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think that you just want me to shut up.”

            “I would never.”

            I’m competent enough to be sarcastic. There’s never been a time when I didn’t have the energy to be a smart mouth.

            “Are you sure you’re okay?”

            “God, Julian! What do you want me to say? I’m just not in the mood to deal with your first-class disposition or anyone else’s for that matter.”

            Through my hair, I see that he’s staring hard at me. He wants to get to the bottom of this and he wants to do it now. Blowing up at him wasn’t the right move to make.

            The bottom must not have been as far down as I thought because he’s onto me.

            “What happened to your face?”

            “What do you mean? Nothing.”

            His mood evaporates instantaneously. “Did he hit you?”

            “What?!”

            He’s standing up and his fists are clenched. “I’ll kill him! Why did you let him do this to you? I’ll kill him!”

            “Please, sit down. I will tell you.”

            The look on his face says he’d rather beat Will to a bloody pulp than know the details of how these stitches and bruise came to be. But he sits, very slowly.

            “When I came home from talking to you Saturday night, I went into my kitchen. It was dark and I was tired so I wasn’t being very careful. My dad snuck up on me and when I turned to him my feet got tangled up and I fell and hit my head on the counter.”

            Very handy, indeed.

            “If you say so.”

            “What’s that supposed to me?”

            “It means you’re lying. How long have I known you? You know that house backwards and forwards. Your father’s voice is one of the most familiar things to you, you even find it comforting. And you chose running as a past time. You’re way too graceful for your feet to get tangled up together. You’ve never been clumsy. I’ve never seen you fall without it being on purpose. But if this is what you want to tell me, I have to accept that. I have to accept the fact that you not telling me is for good reason.”

            I just look at him.

            “But promise me that it was not Will.”

            “I promise.”

            He waits then turns toward the front when Mr. Rogers begins to write on the board. I’m not the only one who has to maintain an above average GPA. According to his mother, that’s part of the deal if he wants to play football: above average, not just a ‘c’ average.

            As if the day couldn’t get any better, after gym, I come out of the shower to find that my clothes and backpack have been taken from my locker. The first thing I think is who could have my combination. Then I remember that I’m only wearing a towel and my mind drifts back toward more important things.

            Before I start to look, a girl emerges with all my things. She looks familiar. She’s got a 90210 Silver hairstyle going on. Not super short Silver but medium to the neck length. Enough about her hair! Her eyes are the most familiar thing about her but they’re missing something. I can’t put my finger on it.

            She’s staring at me triumphantly.

            “You looking for these?” she asks.

            “Well, not quite I wasn’t.”

            Her expression falters for a moment but then she’s back to being vindictive.

            “How’d you get my combination?”

            “I’ll ask the questions here. What do you want with my brother?”

            “Yes, because there’s only one boy with a sister who goes to this school.”

            She scowls, “Will.”

            Ah, the over-protective sister.

            “What do you mean what do I want with him? I think the better question is ‘What does he want with me?’ because he was rather adamant about being a couple. I’m not the one you should be interrogating.”

            I can tell she’s thinking, trying to get a feel for me. I’m giving her the impression that I’m all brave and intimidating. Maybe she is too but I’m scared as hell that she’s going to walk out of here with my clothes. I’m scared that she’s just going to scratch the approach she chose and beat me senseless for having such a smart mouth. I am gambling here because I don’t really know what kind of person she is.

            She drops my clothes on the floor and steps on them to get to the door.

            “Just stay away from my brother.”

            I watch her leave. I let out a sigh of relief when she’s gone.

            My black emo clothing are unharmed.

            “This day can’t get much worse.

            I should’ve kept my mouth shut. It was only third period.

            Now it’s fourth and I get to Photography to find that someone has folded up my photos and passed them out to the kids who work with paint. I’m able to remove the paint but the rings from the cups are not coming out. I’m about to flip out when I remember the film. I can develop these again. That’s when I search for most of the period and can’t find the film anywhere.

Mrs. Davis is going to flip out. Those pictures where going to go in next week’s school paper. I’m standing in front of one of the giant cabinets when I get the feeling that I’m being watched. Phylicia’s standing behind me smiling.

“What’re you looking at, spaz? I need to get in there. Move!”

She pushes me roughly and puts her things back.

“Did you ruin my photos?”

She continues to put her stuff away.

“Those were for the school paper. I could get into real trouble.”

“Why are you telling me?”

“Why would you do that? I don’t do anything to you. Do what you want to me but don’t mess with my craft.”

            “Witchcraft? I didn’t know you were a wiccan,” she says loudly.

            Everyone in class turns and looks at me.

            The bell rings and she bumps my shoulder on the way out.

 

            In the lunch room, I’m trying to figure out where I should eat considering Kendall wants to be left alone and I’m pretty sure that includes at her lunch table.

            However, it doesn’t take me long to figure it out because she doesn’t make an appearance. I sit down at our table and scan the cathedral sounding room. It’s loud and hot with body heat, it pumps with voluminous laughter. These kids are happy.

            I’ve come to the conclusion that I should make friends and invest in something or someone besides Kendall. At any other school where she wasn’t, I’d have made tons of friends by now. That’s just the kind of person I am. I want to be happy and see others happy so that comes off as sincere and charismatic. People like that kind of stuff. So people want to be my friend.

            At this school I just find myself constantly hanging out with an outsider in turn making me an outsider. Kendall enjoys that life style but it’s not for me. And even as I’m complaining about how she’s changing me negatively, I know I won’t abandon her. I know I won’t stop seeing her or trying to be everything to her; even if that means giving up the high school life of popularity I know I could have.

            On that note, Julian, someone who is definitely poplar, ambles by.

            “Where’s Kendall?”

            “Since when is Kendall your business?”

            “Since I’ve known her way before you. She may not like people, but she’s not scared of them; scared enough to avoid lunch.”

            “Are you implying something?”

            “Obviously.”

            I scoff and look away. “Walk away, Julian. I’m not in the mood for this.”

            He shakes his head and turns away. He smiles at one of his friends. How easily he turns it on and off.

            His implication sticks in my minds.

            Was it something I’d done?

           

            In seventh, my villainous attire puts Mrs. Cadiz on one hundred and ten.

            “My God, Kendall. What happened?”

            I sigh and that sigh turns into an eye roll when I see Will walk in.

            “I’m fine, Mrs. Cadiz. I’m just feeling whether dreary today. Is that okay with you?”

            “Well, you know I’m here if you need to talk.”

            “Yeah, I know.”

            She has a bit of a hurt look on her face that makes me feel a bit guilty but I get over it really fast. All I want today is to be left alone. All I want is for everyone to stop being so concerned about me. All I want is peace!

            Will comes and sits next to me but I purposefully turn myself toward the window. I can feel him next to me; wanting to speak to me; wanting to touch me; wanting to hold me; wanting to kiss me, to comfort me. And that may be what I need right now but I don’t want it. I never do.

            “Kendall, I-

            “Don’t, Will.”

            I turn to meet his dark brown eyes. What is he seeing in mine? I know for fact they give me away. That prompts me to look away. He turns toward the front of class and doesn’t bother me anymore for the rest of the day.

            We lock eyes once more at the end of the day when he heads off to practice and I head for the door. He brushes his hand against mine and despite my efforts to want to be distant, it comforts me and I smile a little. 

Reviews

[Samantha Lynn]

You better post the next chapter soon because. I have spent the last hour reading up to this point! Lol... Very good work!!