I see him again staring at me.
He always looks at me, whether it's when we pass in the corridors or in the class room. I always pretend not to notice when his brown, dark eyes bore into mine but there's something about the way he is staring at me that bothers me. He looks at me differently – and I don't like it. Maybe look is not the right word…more like watch. He watches me, watches everything I do. And sometimes, I glance in his direction to check if he is watching me and almost all of the time he is. He knows I know he's looking at me. I don't think he cares that I know he watches me; he just wants to watch me. So I let him. Because he is Todd Hewitt, the boy everyone talks about when he exits the classroom, the boy everyone talks about when we hear screaming down the corridors, the boy everyone talks about.
There are always rumours about him. There is a rumour going around saying that he carries a knife in his bag. I'm not surprised if he does.
He is still staring at me.
I walk out of my locker room. He is standing at the doorway. I notice him following me, tracing my movements up the corridor to the form room where my class gets registered. As I walk into the form room, I gaze behind in a way that doesn't look suspicious to see if he is still there. He isn't.