“I don’t like him,” I complained to Nate.
“Why do you keep saying that?” he questioned, agitatedly, “it was just an accident.”
“I just think he’s…” I couldn’t finish.
I had been complaining to Nate about this guy, while Nora went to get a piece of pizza or something, I was still babbling on while she had left. I didn’t know anything about him, but I knew I didn’t like him, even though he didn’t really do anything as Nora stated after my “wordy” description of what had happened that very morning.
I closed my eyes and leaned back in my chair and ran through in my mind, what had happened this morning.
It was study hall. I sat there staring at the ceiling. I took a deep long breathe and yawned, stretching my hands out in front of me and flexing my fingers. It was still pretty early in the morning for me. I leaned back in my chair and looked over at the clock hanging on the far wall of the room, next to the door.
My calculus book sat open in front of me. I let myself groan in agony before turning back to torturous limits. I picked up my pencil and tapped it impatiently against the table top, as I laid my head down on the page.
I closed my eyes and dropped my hands into my lap. A I did I heard the door open, but I didn’t bother to look up. No body of interest ever came in during study hall. I raised my head and stared down at the page of my book. Out of habit, I suppose, I raised my eyes to glance for hardly a second at who had come in the door. All I noticed was the back of a students head, then I lowered my eyes back to my book.
Suddenly I noticed the room had silenced itself. And it had remained silent for perhaps a second too long.
I instantly did a double-take. My first thought, I don’t think I had a first thought.
He stood motionlessly next to Mrs. Roberts desk. His hands were shoved into his jean pockets. A checkered messenger bag hung sadly off of his small shoulders. The sleeves of his gray sweatshirt were rolled up around his elbows.
He took a hand out of his pocket and swept the long black bangs away from his eyes.
His pale, clear skin stood out in stunning contrast against his jet-black hair. His features were sharp and angular. His eyes darted across the room for a few seconds, and then he turned back to Mrs. Roberts who was handing him several pieces of paper.
I tore my eyes away from him, and forced myself to look back down at my calculus book. I heard some of the guys talking again, but I noticed that most of the girls in the room had failed to find earth again. Me, I was stronger than them. Concentrating was something I was good at, very good in fact, if I concentrate on it, that is. At this point I was concentrating very hard.
“Back to work you!” I shouted at myself in my head
“But, but I…”I tried to argue
“Muscle through it you big baby”
It may not be the best saying, but that was the motto I lived by, for most of my teenage life. And so far, it seemed to work.
“Well,” I heard the teacher, Mrs. Roberts, began, “you can take and empty seat and work on whatever your teachers gave you, or the work I gave you.”
I looked up slightly, while I scribbled unintelligibly on the piece of paper in front of me. I saw he was slowly scanning the room, looking briefly at the empty chairs, possibly trying to find a way to escape the possible torture that would be inflicted upon his arrival next to the drooling girls and hefty, and irritated football players.
I was sitting at the empty table farthest from the door, the one used by people who actually had to study. This was study hall, mostly used for catching up on texting and such. But the people who really had something to do sat here. I was alone at the table, except for one nameless, baby-faced boy, and the now approaching stranger.
Every eye inconspicuously watched him go past as they pretended to be busy with they’re own conversations, perhaps too intimidated to say anything to him. His tired looking eyes were cast somewhat to the ground, I couldn’t actually tell where he was looking.
I made a fist and put it to my face, keeping my eyes down, though excruciating as it was, while he slung his bag over the back of the chair, and set himself down, gently, in one motion. He sat two seats away from me, and took out a book from his gray bag. He seemed to ignore everything around him as his dim expression looked down at the page. Something about him was sort of irritating, I could not figure out what it was, but it really made me uncomfortable.
He ignored everyone around him. I tried not to look at him, for fear I might not be able to stop, and I did have to study for quite an important test.
Throughout the whole class I hardly ever heard him move. I hadn’t even realized how tense I had become. So ten- SNAP. The two shards of my pencil sat sadly before me on the table.
I slowly got up to go sharpen my pencil. I raised my eyes for a second. In that second, I saw that he was glaring at me. His chin tilted an angle to the floor, his face slightly downwards, and his eyes burning into my face. “Geez, if looks could kill,” I thought to myself. It was a long second while I was frozen with surprise.
My face was burning, my eyes were uncontrollably locked on him. His eyes flashed to the ground and his body relaxed, and I was able to turn away quickly, before he raised his eyes again.
After stumbling over to the pencil sharpener, I hesitated there as long as possible. I turned slowly, still keeping my eyes down and stepped back over to my seat, and set myself down, carefully. I sat there for a while, trying to calm myself down, I took a deep breath and tried to casually look up to casually “look about the room”.
On my eye’s leisurely stroll about the room, I saw his face for a split second. In that moment I saw a look of utter disgust playing across his face, as if I had just flipped him off or something.
I again put my head down and kept it down for the rest of the class. I checked my watch, the bell was just about to ring. A few seconds, I tired to get all my stuff into one arm, ready to bolt at the sound of the bell, that is if my very poor balancing act held out long enough for me to get out the door.
A deafening screech rang through the room. Everyone around me shot up out of their chairs.
I turned towards the door, when my foot caught onto something, sending me falling to the ground. My books flew out of my arms and thudded loudly to the ground.
I looked up and he stood there. I looked back down, I had tripped over his chair as he had pulled it out in front of me. My foot was still twisted around the leg of the chair.
He looked at me briefly with an accusing expression, like it was my fault. He mumbled something inaudible, and stalked of angrily. Leaving me on the floor.
I shot up off of the ground, “Oh I’m terribly sorry for being in your way,” I shouted after him.
“Watch where you’re going,” he huffed, not taking my sarcasm.
I overflowed. Blood rushed to my face. My nails dug into my palms. I watched him walk off then gathered my books and left, turning the corner in the opposite direction of him.
