Day three of Keeper Week! Just barely made it because I had a lot of homework today, but for the amount of time I had to work on it, I'd say it's not so horrible and I'm just proud of myself for at least getting it to 2,000 words!
Charlene's P.O.V
There was more to that little sparkle in his eye than just the curiosity of my being. He didn't care much about my personality. If we were in Geography right now, he would be studying physical features. My skin crawled at imagining what might have been playing through his head at that moment. Disgusting. Absolutely disgusting.
"Why do you just beat it?" I had asked Zeph, in a growl more than anything.
"Come on, just think about it." He winked at me, so I shot him a sarcastic half-smile and kindly invited him to shove it. It became quite evident as the conversation continued this way that he wasn't getting the message, or at least was too stubborn to give in.
No one day, no two, but three days he persisted at this, in such a manner that I knew it was some kind of pride matter between him and his buddies. I couldn't say I hadn't been hit on before, but it was occasionally in an actual flattering style and never to such a revolting extent as this.
Who would have ever imagined that the real problem wasn't him? My triple-day follower had suddenly been discovered by his girlfriend, fellow cheerleader Martha Stanward, who was not in the slightest pleased that he was so hung over on me. She, being ranked below me, already had motive to hate the life out of me, and with this as a pile-on, it must have driven her too far.
Somewhere along the way, he had managed to convince her it was the other way around. She's in love with me. I can't get rid of her, I mean she just keeps stalking me everywhere. And I didn't want to hurt her feelings, you're both on the squad together and I didn't want to ruin that.
Ha! What a joke that was! But Martha wasn't laughing. In fact, she bought it with a simple smack of their lips and a promise that he would never do anything to hurt her. Excuse me while I try to pick my jaw up from the floor.
"You've got some nerve." She startled me when she charged down the path in the girls' locker room. Ten minutes after practice ended, I showered, rid myself of the layer of sweat that made my ponytail stick to my back, and was just beginning to change.
"What?" I stared at her incredulously, as the other members of the squad turned to watch the encounter.
"Trying to steal my boyfriend! Okay, you might like getting around the entire male population of our school but steer clear from Zeph, got it?" The bitter snap in Martha's tone both bemusing and irritating.
"Excuse me, but I happen to have a boyfriend of my own."
"I don't need to know that you like to cheat." With that, I was so far past the edge, I had just created a new level of fury.
"You'd better bite your tongue before speaking about someone's affairs like that. I've never cheated nor will I ever on Donnie. And even less likely so with your piece of work for a boyfriend." I retorted, never missing a beat. With a heart rate monitor, I could have probably seen the number 150 flash on the screen because I was absolutely pumping mad.
"Take that back, slut!" She shrieked, shoving me by the shoulders so that I stumbled back onto the lockers. My shoulder blade slammed harshly into a combination lock, and it throbbed painfully but I stood and glared at her with all the power in me.
"I'm beyond this." I responded simply, and she shivered visibly at the receiving end of my narrowed glare. "If only you could say the same." As I started towards the doors, I stopped momentarily to mutter back to her. "By the way, try to keep that bf of yours on a leash. Poor thing has been trailing around after me for the past few days like a love-sick puppy."
Only a few steps before I felt someone shove me forward in a single swift movement. My head collided with the floor and my thoughts clouded with a surge of pain. I felt the skin on my left shoulder and knee tear at the touch of rough gravel and knew I must have been bleeding. Both out of pain and ire, I groaned.
Steadily, I tried to rise up onto my feet but I was pushed down again and rolled over onto my back. A minuscule mob of girls leapt up from their positions on the bench, some with expressions of concern and others with that of resentment, likely friends of Martha's.
Of all the things that I would have ever pictured happening to me, the last might have been a group of colleague cheerleaders attacking me over a boy. Far down on the list, below being killed by the Overtakers and below having Elvis Presley sing me to sleep as a honey bear dances in a tutu.
Fists pounded against my back as I was pushed and pulled around, completely out of sorts. They tossed me around violently, either against the ground or the wall. Every time, I would involuntarily let out a small whimper in plea. My skull felt scraped and bruised from being pounded an innumerable amount of times.
I heard some girls shout in protest, yelling out for them to stop. They were the older ones, seniors and juniors many. While the ones atop me were mostly freshman, yet in such a big group I had trouble fending them off.
It wasn't until I felt something sharp slice the delicate skin of my ankle that I full-on screamed. The other assailants held me down as it continued to burn, holding my head so I couldn't look down even had I wanted to.
But I guess my war had been won for me, because not a minute later, the room was dead silent and I didn't feel the weight of the other girls on me anymore. I couldn't cry, I wouldn't.
Then a chorus of questions was fired at me as the older girls tried to check me over and see what damage had been done. My head hurt too much to focus on what they were saying, and the pain blurred my vision, virtually blinding me from my surroundings. Subconsciously, I heard some of them chatter about how those girls would be punished for this, but I didn't care about that. I just wanted the pain to go away.
Everything had been mostly a haze after that, aside from one clear sentence as the one I thought I recognized as the captain said quietly, "You're going to be fine."
Amanda's P.O.V
Given that I typically didn't communicate much with Charlene aside from our video-chat Keeper meetings or when we got together with the girls, and even when I did it was ordinarily through text, I was more or less surprised to see that she had called me. And even more surprised when it wasn't her voice that I heard over the phone.
As I drove home from school, cautiously crossing the streets back to Ms. Nash's, I answered. "Hello?" I asked, wondering if they could hear me over the loud ruckus in the background.
"Um…hi, is this Amanda?" The girl over questioned, sounding worried.
"Yeah," I replied shortly. Barely, I heard the girl talking to other people in the background and began to contemplate what was going on. "Hello?"
"Sorry, um, is Charlene Turner a friend of yours?"
My heart sped up a little because something in her voice told me that the situation was wrong, so very wrong. "Yeah. Why? Did something happen?"
"She's in some trouble and we didn't know who to contact. We just called the first person in her contact list. It's kinda hard to explain, but she really needs you to come over to our school right now, in the gym. Do you know where it is?"
"Mhm." I muttered into the phone quietly, and stuttered out, "I'll be right there."
All in all, I drove hastily over to the school, probably just by a whisker in any kind of legal fashion . But at the moment, I was severely nervous about Charlene and really didn't care about any of that.
The school, being basically a foreign place to me, was one big maze in the eyes of a stranger. I could have sworn I had passed through the same hallway three times but each time the doors had different numbers on them. Walking, running, searching frantically, I continued to search like that for a good amount of time having no idea where I was before I finally stumbled upon the large metal doors with a label that read Gymnasium.
Basically throwing the doors open, I hurried in but came to face an entirely empty sports hall. "Hello?" I called out, hoping that it wasn't just a prank because I really didn't feel like putting up with something like that. At the same time, though, I was also anxious that I had arrived too late and Charlene was in a far worse predicament than before.
"In here!" I hear a shout from the left and turned to see what appeared to be a locker room. Rushing in, I was met with a gruesome sight that made my heart sting with anguish.
"Charlie." I choked out, observing the damaged girl in front of me. Cradled carefully in the arms of an older teen girl, she was bleeding profusely from her hands and knees. All along her arms, legs, and face ran a chain of black and blue that made me sick with sorrow.
I could tell she was scarcely conscious of what was going on by the dazed face she bore and the confused eyes that glanced around the room. She was so lost. She was so helpless. She was so not Charlene.
"What happened?" I asked, almost inaudibly, too shocked to allow myself to speak. This, and I was afraid of startling her.
"Some of the freshman girls pounced on her. It was scary. Took a real beating." One of them explained, a tall brunette with a frown across her face. "I didn't think they could ever be so horrid."
"She's pretty banged up so we didn't want to just leave her, but none of us knew how to get her home." The one who held Charlene by the shoulder stated, tucking a lock of sandy blonde hair behind her ear.
"I'll take her." I muttered. "Here…"
Gently, I moved forward and put her arm around my shoulders to give her support. The others helped her stand as well. In an effort divided into the five of us, we managed to get her out to my car in the parking lot. On the short voyage, the girls took turns trying to describe to me the occurrence. Certain details were slightly grisly, and I had goose bumps just envisioning it.
I thanked them for their help and for staying with Charlene for so long, but they all replied immediately that it was no problem and that they wished her well, hoping strongly that she was okay.
"Come on, let's get you home, buddy." I mumbled, helping her into the passenger seat. She groaned deeply as she sank into the seat, no doubt suffering from the agony of the contact between the tough material and her opened skin.
About five minutes into the drive, she turned to me and mumbled a hushed, "Mandy?"
"Yeah, hun?" My heart stopped abruptly at the sound of her voice so wounded. How could some girls do that to her? And slicing her ankle with a razon was beyond horrendous!
"Thanks for coming to pick me up." She muttered, leaning her head again the back of the seat and grumbling some under her breath about her head hurting. Before I had a chance to say anything in response, she said, "Sorry if I'm getting your car bloody."
I shook my head, giggling because only she would be focused on that when she was hurt so badly. "Don't worry about it." I told her, and added, laughing. "It's Finn's car anyways."
I know that Amanda was just barley in it, but I think I'm going to write a little continuation of it later on to elaborate for my poorly structured mess, haha. Well I hope you enjoyed! Please Read, Review, and Request!