Disclaimer: I still don't own this.



It must really blow to be you: I should feel...

*****

It's Tuesday. I'm nervous. I don't know what I think about meeting with Delilah today. A part of me *really* wants to go to her, while another part (a more sensible part) wants to blow her off. I've somehow reasoned to myself that I'm only going to hear her out. I bet she wants something. Why else would she want to see me? It's not like she likes me. I'm not going to delude myself anymore.

The bus hits a bump and I clutch my new camera protectively to keep it from falling. I look it over to make sure it's ok. Still not a scratch on it and I smile. My dad got it for me, his way of a present for joining the track team. I should feel guilty that I didn't tell him I was forced to join the team. I don't. He didn't even notice my injuries yesterday so for now I just enjoy the feel of a camera in my hands, my fingers lingering over the shutter.

When we reach the school, I get off the bus and I'm halfway to the front door of the school when I feel something strange. I an't describe it really. It's just this very twillight zone-ish feeling of something being not right. I can't quite put my finger on it until I reach my locker. Then it hits me....

Everyone's left me alone.

Not *one* person has hit me or even insulted me all day. I should feel happy. Right? Since first grade that's all I've ever wanted. Now, that it's happened, though, I feel strange, paranoid even. This is so much worse. Now I have to wait for it. I know they'll come eventually. This peace won't last. Are Josh and Trevor planning something? I dismiss it. Not that it isn't a very likely possibility but too much introspection isn't good.

I stow my camera in my locker (hidden in my bagged lunch buried under my gym clothes) and head towards the art room. I tell the art teacher that I'm available to work on the paper if I'm still needed. She seems happy at that. She also tells me that she thinks I should put together a portfolio of my best pictures. If the department heads approve my portfolio, I'll be placed in the advanced photography class. I walk out of her room stunned.

Then I bump into Stokely...literally. The books fall out of my arms. I start to say something to her but Stokely just gives me a dirty look and pushes past me without a word. She's still pissed and apparently not talking to me either. Shit. I have to straighten things out with her. I quickly gather my fallen books and by the time I stand again, she's gone....SHIT.

Yes, this day is getting more complicated by the minute. The part of me that says meeting with Delilah is a bad idea gets a little louder. I'm not looking forward to seeing my shrink today, I think as I slump into my chair for homeroom. Therapist, I really shouldn't say shrink. I think I like the word therapist better, though. It sounds so very pretencious. It makes it sound more like I'm going to some spa or something. Ok, now I'm just mentally rambling.

I look down at my notebook, which I don't remember opening. Staring back at me is a page full of doodles and one named scrawled over and over. Delilah Proffitt. I'm obessesing, aren't I? Why can't I just forget about her? I know we won't end up together, not in a million years.

I hate myself sometimes.

My morning passes with the same creepy freedom. No taunting, no injuries, my heart is pounding and my palms feel sweaty. Why am I so scared? Maybe because I know it's comming eventually. I don't know when or how but it'll be bad. The bell rings. I shake my head. Trying, for the moment at least, to rid myself of these thoughts and gather my books. Time to meet Delilah.

There's hardly anyone in the library when I enter. I head towards the back of the library, knowing Delilah would never meet me where people could see us together. There's still no sign of her. Suddenly someone grabs my arm and yanks me into one of the rows. My startled (and very unmanly) yelp is muffled by a hand over my mouth.

I quickly turn around. Delilah pulls her hand away from my mouth and places a perfectly manicured finger over her lips in a gesture that clearly says 'shhhh'. "Geez, Del!" I whisper "You could have just called my name, you know."

"I didn't want to draw attention." She says, looking around suspiciously.

"I almost had a heart attack." I try to get my heartrate under control.

"Well, if you're so fragile maybe you shouldn't be joining the track team."

"So you heard?"

She merely nods.

"Is that what this is about? You don't think I can be on the track team, do you?" I have a hard time keeping the bitterness out of my voice.

"Of course, I don't." She smiles, smirks really "I mean, just look at you. You're short. You're skinny. Let's face it, you're not that strong. And you can't be all that fast considering that you take all those beatings instead of running away from them and-"

"Enough!" I cut her off. She looks startled. "Look, if you just came here for a nostalgic game of bash Casey then I'm leaving." I turn but before I can take a step, I feel her hand on my arm. God, her skin is so soft.

"Wait." I face her again. She has this adorable little pout on her face...I am so weak. She continues as soon as she has my attention, "Look, that's not what I came here for. ok? This is much more serious."

I lean back against the bookshelf. "Let's get right down to it, Delilah. What do you want?"

"I heard Gabe and some guys talking. They have something really bad planned for you."

My heart jumps. I knew it but why is she warning me... "What is it?"

"I don't know. I didn't catch enough of their conversation." She still has that pout. I notice that her hand is still on my arm, gently moving back and forth across one area of my forearm. I try to ignore the tightening in my groin and look at her eyes. I don't like what I see there. It's like she knows some joke that I don't get.

...

She's playing with me.

I scoff. She's trying to pull me into some kind of game but I'm not playing. "Right. Thanks Delilah. Bye." I leave my voice flat and turn away from her once more.

"Dammit, Case. Would you just listen to me! As a friend?"

I feel my anger rise at that. And I whirl on her, stalking forward to close he space between us. "As a Friend? When have we ever been friends Delilah? When have you ever come down off your oh-so-pristene white horse to consider me a friend?" I hiss at her.

She looks worried, maybe I'm scaring her. She still hasn't answered me. I keep moving forward and she backs up until she bumps into the bookshelf. I put my hands on the bookshelf on either side of her head so that she's boxed in. Maybe now she's taking me seriously. "I know the answer." I whisper. I'm close enough to smell her. She smells good. Another wave of self-loathing washes over me as I'm caught between loving and hating this girl in front of me. "Because you told me what you really think of me." And I bring to my mind all the words that have been haunting me for over two weeks. "Class wuss, eternal little loser who comes to school every day knowing that this is it. You've been labeled pathetic since first grade and you're afraid it's going to bleed over for the rest of your life."

I look into her eyes. She looks upset...or pissed. I can't really tell because I've never seen her upset. She shakes her head. "They were right when they said you lost it." She pushes my arm away and storms away from me, calling back, "You're going to get it, Casey. It's gonna come hard and fast and it'll bury you."

I feel empty...

TBC

Sorry this one was late. Oh so much angst! hehe More to come!