At lunch, I found myself sitting at a table in the far back of the cafeteria.
All five of them were sat around the table also and they'd talk about random things that I didn't care much to tune into.
I sat with my hands clasped between my thighs below the table and my shoulders slumped as I took turns with staring at the dark surface in front of me or outside through the floor to ceiling windows that was the wall.
My mind was occupied at the moment so eating wasn't really on my agenda. Besides, what they were eating looked disgusting.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw a tray being angled toward me and I looked at it through my side view for a second before I tilted my head slightly to the right.
He was the last person I expected to offer me anything. Maybe because they'd asked me a dozen times if I was going to get anything, but still, I never thought he—out of everyone else—would ever. Maybe it's his persona that seemed a bit similar to mine, because I know I'd never do it if the tables were turned, but it didn't shock me, per se, I just never expected it.
Our gazes locked and I didn't look away. I didn't get lost in his gaze nor did I find his eyes spontaneous or unable to look away from—I've seen better. I just didn't want to look away. His eyes were different. The way he looked at me was different. There was nothing. And I've never seen anyone look at me with absolutely nothing in their eyes before. Whether it be fear, mortification or lust, something was always there.
I shook my head slowly, the movement was short and if you weren't paying absolute attention, you would've missed it.
“Not hungry?” He questions lowly.
He spoke low enough so that only I could hear and seeing as I could still hear the others debating about something dumb around the table, I could tell they didn't.
I shook my head again. His eyes casted downward to the tray for a moment before he looked up and said, “Not even for an apple?”
At that, my gaze drew to the green fruit on his tray. My eyebrows pulled inward fractionally and I unclasped my hands to reach up and grab it.
When I bit into it it made a loud crunching sound and that grabbed the attention of everyone around the table. Then they continued to stare as the sound faded as I kept chewing. I stared back at them blankly all the while.
Miraculously, they're gazes were altered when the screech of a chair sounded. Multiple screeches actually. Chairs were being pulled up to the table and bodies were plopped down on top of them at three spaces between the boys.
“Hello boys,” Was the light feminine voice that came a second later, “And girl.”
There were mumbles and even a small groan.
“Can someone please,” was emphasized, “control their stalker.”
There were low snickers after that and I saw Adrian resting his folded arms on top of the table next to me, leaning forward slightly. He lowers his head and lets out a sigh. It was low and definitely easy to miss but I heard it.
“What is it now Candace?” one of the guys retorted.
“You say that like I come here all the time,” the voice said with a light laugh.
“That's because you do, babe,” was the response.
“I just wanted to meet the new recruit that's all,” she said and I could hear the grin in her voice, “What is it? A cute little pet to keep you guys entertained?” She said smugly in amusement.
I dragged my eyes up, away from the apple I'd been staring at while I ate it and the first place it landed on was the spot across from me. And there sat a brunette between two of the boys. She had her arms looped with theirs comfortably and her head resting on the dirty blonde’s shoulder. I think that one was supposed to be Chase.
She had a round but angular face. Her jawline sharp, especially from the angle her head was tilted. She had olive toned skin, dark brown eyes, a straight nose and below that were pink lips that were parted slightly. Her hair was cascading down her arm in soft curls and you could see the slight golden color of it from where the sun was hitting it through the windows behind her. So in short she was beautiful but I knew in a second what to say to break her right then and there.
But I didn't. Instead, I bring my apple up and took another bite.
“Would you like to introduce yourself?” She said, her eyebrows raising.
I took my time chewing, swallowed, then ran my tongue over my teeth behind my closed lips before responding lowly, “You don't deserve me,” I blinked, “None of you do.”
“Ummmm…” Was all that was mumbled and that came from the redhead. After that there were low laughs from the rest of them.
“And why do you think you're so important?” Another feminine voice came from the left side of the table.
I turn to look in that direction where another female sat, snug between two of the other guys.
This one has golden curly hair that were just above her shoulders. Her head was tilted slightly as she stared at me and the sun was hitting the side of her face and making her light blue eyes stand out shockingly. The blush on her cheeks complimented the pink of her lips and above them was her small button-like nose. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she was leaning back in her chair, her eyes on me.
“I think the real question here is who are you,” I retorted blankly before turning my attention away from her, letting her know she's anything but relevant.
I set my finished apple down on the tray next to me and caught a glimpse of Adrian's gaze on me. I didn't look at him for too long but I could swear that the way his lips pulled up a tiny bit at the sides was not just my imagination.
I straightened my spine, sitting normally and pushing my shoulders back, leaning forward slightly and keeping my eyes on hers. She'd sat up now and her eyes were narrowed and she flipped her hair over her shoulder expertly with a jerk of her head.
“I would watch what you say to me,” I said lowly, “I don't care how much you think you're worth, if any of you so much as breathe at me the wrong way, I'll show you how little your existence really mean.”
“Is that a threat?” she gritted, glaring at me. I could see the vein throbbing in her forehead from here.
I was over this. Speaking wasn't my strongest suit. And speaking to people I held no interest in whatsoever was even worse.
So I pushed my chair back and stood slowly before leaving.
•°•°•
I was almost there. It was the last class of the day and I was very much looking forward to leaving.
I wasn't even paying much attention to what the teacher was saying. I was just staring at him and continued to zone in and out of the teaching process.
What I did notice today however, was the fact that all of my teachers were somewhat similar. They all had similar builds with broad shoulders and stood somewhere around six feet. If it wasn't brown hair, it was jet black and they all seemed to be within the same age group.
I didn't really dwell on it since it didn't matter but it was something that I'd picked up on.
My last class just so happened to be Italian, so I didn't listen to most of what he said but I still heard. All I was focusing on was going home and taking a very long nap. I just wanted to sleep.
My head was thrown back, faced toward the ceiling and my eyes closed as I breathed evenly. On the outside I might look stress free and relaxed to some, but my muscles were tense and my back ached from just that. There was a faint pounding in my skull that won't go away and my hands continuously flexed beneath the desk on my lap.
“Hey?”
I didn't flinch or jerk at the sound. I stayed unmoving and ignored it.
But when I felt the person move closer and the whisper louder with hot breath hitting the shell of my ear, my eyes opened slowly and I stared unblinking at the ceiling.
I was disgusted despite the blankness of my features and I was shuddering internally, utterly repulsed.
“What's your name?” He whispered.
I would've continued to ignore him, maybe even go as far as get up and change my seat to save him from the five ways I'd already conjured up at getting him to shut up and move back. I told myself that I'd be merciful—that they don't know—but all that went out the window when I felt a hand on my thigh.
Cold. It got deathly cold for a second. It felt like someone dumped a bucket of ice water over my head, then it got hot. My blood boiled beneath my skin and my already tensed body, became absolutely immobile.
I lift my head slowly and let my eyes drift down to my thigh, staring blankly at the hand and trying to stop the way my body had started shaking. I swallowed hardly and forced myself to speak.
“Hand. Off.”
My voice sounded hoarse and strained and my hands were clenched tightly by my sides. I pressed them into my thighs tightly, not wanting to move until he did.
But he did the opposite. He squeezed then started moving it up. He started to say something again but I didn't hear it because my restraint snapped like a piece of thread holding a bowling ball.
Whatever he was saying was cut short as my hand came up swiftly and I jabbed him forcefully in the throat with my elbow. His breathing cut short and his hand squeezed my thigh tighter in hopes of getting air back into his lungs but rationality went out the window and my hand went to the back of his head.
I saw the way the kids jerked violently when they heard the crack and when they turned, he was already halfway to the floor as he slid off of his chair limpy. His head smacked into the foot of the desk hardly and rolled to the side, his eyes closed.
Desk and chairs were being scraped violently against the floor and I heard a shout and there was screaming. My body was shaking. So hard that the desk I was gripping was shaking with me. I stared at my white knuckles, forcing myself to breath.
I could hear his voice in my head, telling me to breath. That I'm fine. All I have to do is breath.
Just breath.
Someone was standing next to me and when I saw a hand reaching toward me in my periphery, I gripped the table tighter.
“Don't touch me,” I said hardly, glaring at the desk’s surface.
The hand retracted.
•°•°•
“Are you going to answer my question or are you just going to sit there?” The principal asked.
His hands were clasped in front of him. His biceps bulging through his light blue button down as he leaned forward with his intertwined fingers resting on the large desk between us.
His light blue eyes were staring at me blankly and I was staring right back at him. His dark hair was cut low and the stubble on his jaw lined to perfection. And as I analyzed his clear skin and chiselled features, I figured he looked too young to be a high school principal and also that I've seen him before.
I recognized the way his straight nose was set above his slightly thin lips and the freckles scattered along the side if his neck, disappearing beneath the neck of his dress shirt and the light scar running from the bottom of his left ear, across his cheekbone and disappearing beneath the stubble of his facial hair.
He sighed, leaning back in his chair, “Listen, if you're not going to talk, then I have no other option but to suspend you.”
He must have saw the way my eyebrows pulled inward in curiosity or confusion because he went on talking.
“The injuries that the young man sustained weren't something a high school nurse could just put some ice on and send him back to class,” he said blankly. He kept his gaze on me as he spoke, like he's trying to figure something out, “A broken nose, severe concussion and not to mention he had to be put on a ventilation to support his breathing because of the hit he received to his throat,” he kept staring at me intensely.
Before I could help it though my lips twitched up into a smile.
“I'm happy this amuses you,” he said hardly, “but since you refuse to defend your reason as to why you'd put someone in the hospital,” he paused, waiting for me to say something but I didn't and that caused his jaw to clench tightly, “A weeks suspension. I'll see next week Monday, Miss Alesi. Let's hope we start off better the next time.”
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