The first thing you have to get through your head about me is that I am, was, and always will be a writer. Something about jotting down ideas and random thoughts calm me when I'm angry, and always help take the pressure off. Even when I'm walking down the hallways filled with overstuffed backpacks and jam-packed locker rows, I could make a short story right on the spot. Basically, writing is what I do.
Today was the first day of school in Seattle and I unquestionably redefined the word anxious. I kept glancing around my shoulders for wandering eyes. I swished my hair back in annoyance. If there was one thing I hated more than gossiping girls was perverted guys. Especially ones that had their arm around another girl's shoulder. Gross.
I walked quickly to my next class, wishing the day was already over. What kind of parent would torture their kid this way? If I was there longer than the eight hours I would probably throw up. Although, lunch and moving to each class was the worst. When in class you can intently watch the teacher or peer down and doodle on the side of your notebook—in the hall, not so much. I was almost to the door, barely noticing anything but my destination, when a blonde guy with a creepy smile strolled up and leaned against the door frame. I paused in my tracks and looked up at him. What was he getting at?
"Um, this is my Science class. I need to get through." My voice cracked a bit at the end. Either from my lack of saliva from not talking all day or the fact that someone new—and slightly frightening—was staring at me like meat. He just smiled a grin that could chill my bones. "Can I get through?" I asked again, surprising myself.
He just smirked. I backed away a little bit; he noticed. "…Please?" Yeah, my voice was barely a whisper at this point. What was this guy's problem? He looked as if he scarcely ever took a shower and he had piercings and tattoos in every direction. Was he even aloud to be in this school? The others looked normal, other than the scene kids and emos. I was fine with them as long as they didn't go near me. This one, though. He was different. Not the good kind of different either. The way he stared was not the kind you want. Not the one where he can practically see through you; not the kind that are genuine and warm. This one was like a lion over a gazelle. Needless to say, I was terrified.
The "Eraser Room" that I heard about through a conversation from some slutty girls in the restroom, was near me. It was growing closer and closer, not noticing until I almost backed right into it. That's when my breathing started growing erratic.
I started reviewing my possibilities. I could one, kick him hard in the shin and try to run as far as possible until I reached a teacher. No, no, he was too tall and far too large to feel anything from me. Not as weak as I was. Two, I could scream. That wouldn't work either; my mouth was so dry…
He advanced toward me; almost in slow motion. Surely that was in my mind. His face was mounting nearer and the students were almost gone; some freaked girls fleeing from the disturbing guy before me. Not one of them seemed like the type to get an adult. I closed my eyes and did not open them—I could practically feel his warmth; the spine-chilling way his eyes bored into mine.
"Dude, what the hell?" I heard someone scream. I still didn't open my eyes. Whoever it was, I was eternally grateful for the distraction. I could feel the guy's eyes leave me, and I heard the other voice continue. "Did Principal Burnns actually let you back?" The voice's question, from the sound of it, seemed astonished and somewhat appalled. Go voice! I thought.
Whoever it was—it sounded like a guy—I would have to thank. I would owe this random person something. Anything I had if he could get the guy away. It was then, however, that the guy grabbed my arm to the point that I screamed. Half because I was taken by surprise and partially because it was rough and filled with unexpected pain. The twinge seeped through me and I started to tear up. All of my brewed emotions from previously today seemed to fill my much poignant soul. I could practically feel the fiery warmth bring color to my cheeks.
"STOP IT!" The voice howled—several on goers stared at the scene before them and almost ran to their sixth period class. Remind me to send thank you notes to them, I thought sarcastically, my arm and wrist growing numb. The pain suddenly took a turn for the worst and I almost collapsed to my knees. The guy was grabbing tighter, and I could feel my legs move without my permission. He was dragging me...
And that's when it stopped. Everything. The pain, the yelling, the unhelpful classmates that dashed from the scene. It was silent. I opened my eyes. The guy was on the ground, blood on his lip, glaring daggers at someone behind me. I still didn't look at my savior.
The blonde advanced, pushing me to the ground and attacking the boy who saved me. Helplessly I watched as I saw the blonde haired guy stand over the shorter rescuer who was closest to me. I couldn't see his face, but his stance seemed protective.
"What did you just do, Andrew?" I never heard the blonde guy talk; it was forceful and deep as to be expected. The wonderful voice answered mockingly, although practically six inches shorter than the strange guy. "Aw, little Jack-Jack's trying to rhyme!" So, obviously they knew each other. I somehow connected the dots into thinking they weren't very good friends.
I heard a snap and then an intake of breath. My liberator needed help, and I was the only one there to do so. No pressure, huh? Then and there, I wished I was anyone else in the world. I decided, although vulnerable, that I was determined to help him. It was the least I could do.
I decided to go with choice number one from earlier. Would it work? Could I get my almost-trembling body to move? I kicked as hard as I could in the guy's sensitive area, and he toppled over in pain. I cringed. That got to have hurt.
"Get out of here!" I yelled at my rescuer, eyes intent on the murderous looking guy in my sight. "Leave, I'll be fine!"
The guy snorted, rushing toward me. I never once gazed away from my insane attacker. "Are you serious?" He answered, somewhat frustrated and confused. "You're the one in trouble! Now," I felt warm hands grip my back and they tried to pull me up. I felt him recoil and then realized his hand was still hurt. Give or take, way more than mine. I helped him heave me up graciously, holding my injured arm to my side. "You get out of here. I'll deal with him."
I was about to protest, when, right on cue, the two vice principals and the one heavy weight coach sprinted down the hall and toward the guy on the ground. Did I have a mighty kick or what?
"What is going on here, Mr. De Torres?" The lady vice principal demanded, watching the coach and the other male vice grab "Jack" gruffly by his shirt collar.
"Nothing, Miss, it's just that this little lady right here has one mighty kick!" I snickered at the expression on the woman's face and closed my eyes in relief. Whoever saved me, this kind boy who I still hadn't seen, deserved something. I owed him big. I opened my eyes and let out a loud laugh, surprising my redeemer and gradually grew louder. After a few awkward seconds he joined in my hysteria.
That's when I really saw him. His gentle smile, that hefty laugh, his warm touch, the kind and sincere selfless act he portrayed nearly minutes ago…it all stood out when I looked into his eyes. His charming stare, his true gaze… that was the kind that went through your soul.