Chapter Six:

The silence in study was surprisingly deafening. During some studies, people would laugh and talk loudly. Other times, it was deathly silent. This was one of those times.

I was up as soon as the bell rang, tearing down the hall. "Calzone day!"

"Wait!" Emma and Tara yelled at the same time. I ignored them and kept running, pushing my way through the excruciatingly slow-moving crowd.

"What the fuck is your problem?" somebody hissed in my ear. I turned to see Johnny struggling to keep up with me as I leapt down the stairs.

"Nny, it's calzone day! I need to get a pepperoni calzone! When I don't, I get amazingly pissed off and that pisses everyone else off!"

I threw my books into my locket and slammed the door. Barreling through anybody who stood in my way, I ran to the cafeteria. I burst in – and saw the calzone line.

"Dammit..." I dropped my head.

"If getting a fucking calzone will keep you from bitching for the rest of the day, I'll be happy to get one for you." Johnny walked up to the front of the line, to the lunch lady.

"Hey, lady...gimme a pepperoni calzone. Now."

She looked at him disapprovingly. "You cut the line. Do you even work here?"

"I have a four-foot blade on the inside of my jacket. Do you really want to bug me?"

Wide eyed, the lady shook her head, and dropped a pepperoni calzone onto a plate. Johnny took it without a thank you and handed it to me.

"Thank you..." I said, looking at him with exaggerated adoration.

"Just show me where you sit before I projectile vomit all over your calzone."

I led him over to the table my friends and I had been sitting at for longer than I could remember. There was a vacant seat. I sat down next to Emma.

"Is Brianna sick again?"

My friend Laura answered. "Yeah. She's always sick." She glanced at Johnny. "Who's that guy?"

"This is Nny," Emma said proudly. "He's our protector." Johnny took this opportunity to sit down. I stayed silent, picking through my food. In back of me, where Lizzy would have normally been, there was an empty seat.

"Do you know where Lizzy is?"

I opened my mouth to speak.

"DEAD BODY! DEAD BODY!"

The cafeteria fell silent as Bridget rushed into the cafeteria.

"Bridget, what the hell are you yelling about?" Kathy hissed. "You're embarrassing yourself!"

Bridget ignored Kathy and shrieked, "Guys! I just found Lizzy in the hallway! She's dead!"

"What?" one of her friends said, obviously not believing her. "Why are you saying this?"

"BECAUSE IT'S TRUE, GODDAMMIT!"

One side of the cafeteria erupted into screams. I calmly stood up and approached Bridget.

"Bridget, really, I don't see why you're acting so upset. You never even liked her."

"What are you talking about? Of course I liked Lizzy!"

"NO YOU DIDN'T, YOU FUCKING LIAR!" I slammed my fist down on a nearby cafeteria table. "I heard you, you imbecile! Your locker is three fucking feet away from mine! I hear things!"

"W-well you're wrong!" Bridget said nervously. "I was only joking around when I talked about her!"

"Yeah, well, before she died, she found out about some of the things you've said about her. She wasn't very happy. In other words, you killed her." That was a complete lie.

"No I didn't!"

The other half of the cafeteria was no longer silent. People were whispering to each other, and Bridget looked almost hysterical.

"There are penalties for murder, Bridget. But don't worry...I'm going to make it all better. I'm going to make it so you won't get in trouble." Emma saw me reach inside my jacket and sprung into action.

"Wait! Let me help!" Grabbing the thing nearest to her, and to Bridget's surprise and horror, Emma began to stab the girl repeatedly with a plastic fork.

"Ow! Why the fuck are you doing this!" Tears sprang into Bridget's eyes. Some of the pinholes in her skin leaked tiny droplets of blood.

"Bridget, Bridget, Bridget," I said condescendingly. "Which would you rather have? Years in a dark, cold, dank cell with no makeup, or death?"

Before she could answer, I slammed my knife harshly through her back. A quick look of shock came over her face as she stared at the blade for that split-second before she died. I yanked it out, and she crumpled to the floor.

"BRIDGET!"

Her friends burst into tears, rushing to her body. I calmly stepped onto a bench and held up my hand in an attempt to silence them.

"Hold it, hold it! It's all okay!" Nobody quieted down. "Hey...SHUT THE HELL UP!"

That got their attention.

"Everyone, you don't have to be so worried, I – "

At that moment, I was interrupted by the sounds of sickness as Bridget's friends got a good look at her mangled body, and began to throw up loudly.

"Sam, look!" Emma pointed to Kathy. I watched in horror as she heaved up her internal organs. Her eyes rolled back into her head, and she crumpled to the floor next to Bridget.

"Ehem...everyone! STOP BARFING! Bridget wasn't anyone to blow chips over! See, I was ordered to destroy her. She was actually an android sent by aliens bent on world destruction!"

Things calmed down a bit after that. Emma and I didn't get into any trouble, surprisingly. Instead, we were congratulated by the principal for "our courage in a time of crisis, and for ridding our school of the vile space creature".

But everything was absolutely fine in my book. I got a calzone.

And I was safe in the knowledge that my next class would be exceptionally fun...

Math.

Once again we traveled back to the middle-school building for our class with Mr. Fletcher. I was in high spirits until I heard the piercing laugh that echoed through the tunnel. I whirled around. An eleventh grader behind me was snickering about something to her friends.

"What's your problem?"

The girl's eyes narrowed. "Excuse me, you must not know who I am. I'm Anisa, and no one talks to me like that."

My eyes narrowed also. Of course I knew who she was. We went to summer camp together, after all. She acted just as haughty, if not more there.

Anisa snobbishly marched past us...or rather, attempted to, as Emma stuck out her foot and tripped her.

"Ow!" Anisa cried, stumbling forward. "You bitch!" she hissed.

"What were you laughing at?" I demanded to know.

"I was just laughing at your friend here," she said loftily. "I mean, look at him! Who wouldn't laugh at him? He's so freaky and wacky looking."

My heart almost stopped right then. Emma gasped. Johnny turned to Anisa, his eyes half-closed and menacing.

"What did you just call me, you ignorant bitch?"

Anisa took a daring step forward as her friends ran ahead, wanting to avoid conflict.

"I called you freakish and wacky. Now leave me the hell alone. I have to get to class."

"I don't GIVE A SHIT!" Johnny screamed. "You used that word! FUCK! I hate that word!"

Emma rushed to Johnny's side. "Nny! Calm down!"

"Can't I just saw off one of her fingers? Just to teach her a lesson...it wouldn't hurt as much as anything else!"

"Come on, Johnny. Let's just go. I don't know her that well. I just know she's a bitch."

"I don't know who she is!" Emma chimed.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Anisa raged.

"Absolutely...nothing." Johnny moved back, trying so hard to restrain himself. "Just...go. Now."

Anisa turned on her heel and stalked away. I sighed. I should have expected an intervention by the "w-word" at some point.

"Come on, we're ten minutes late."

Emma skipped away singing a song by Thursday to herself. Johnny sighed angrily.

"Nny, stop being so miserable! Emma and me are really enjoying this. And really, Johnny, you should smile more often! Emotional constipation is not a fun thing!"

And with that, I took off down the hall.

Emma was already seated by the time I arrived. I took a seat next to her. When I heard the sound of heavy boots stomping down the hell, I knew Johnny had finally caught up.

He walked into the classroom, eyes cast down to the floor, and leaned against the wall next to Emma's desk. Mr. Fletcher glanced at him from over a stack of papers,

"Are you sure you can wear that sort of clothing here?"

"I have nothing to do with this school. And I thought this was a 'dress-down day'."

"Well, yes, but...there are still things you can't wear. And your boots could likely be classified as a weapon."

"Fuck that."

A few people gasped. "Oh my god! Did you hear what he just said!"

Mr. Fletcher seemed taken aback, but he quickly composed himself. He cleared his throat and shifted a stack of late assignment sheets from his left hand to his right.

"Homework on your desks."

Students exchanged confused glances.

"Mr. Fletcher," someone whined, "I thought you said this homework was due next week."

"No, I distinctly said that it was due today. Now who doesn't have it?"

Everyone raised their hands, looking panicked. Mr. Fletcher began his rounds through the classroom.

"Um, Mr. Fletcher," somebody else called out, "I don't think this is fair. I mean, you say you told us to have it today, but we all heard you say next week. I don't think you should give us late assignment sheets, you know? I mean, you obviously did something wrong last class."

Mr. Fletcher turned to her, his eyes burning with fury. "How dare you question my teaching methods! You have detention, Miss – "

He stopped. And listened. Somebody was singing quietly.

"I never said I'd lie and wait forever...If I died, we'd be together...I can't always just forget her...But she could try..."

"Who...is that?"

Nobody answered, but the singing continued.

"At the end of the world...Or the last thing I see...You are...Never coming home...Never coming home..."

I promptly jabbed Emma in the ribs with my elbow. Emma immediately stopped singing and began to gasp for the air I had knocked out of her. Now Mr. Fletcher knew it had been her. Within seconds he was hovering over our desks, dangling a detention slip in her face.

"Emma, I believe this will keep you from disrupting my class again."

"What is it with you people and detention?"

Johnny cleared his throat. "Emma needs to be out of school immediately so I can get them to the, um, hideout place. You can't give her detention."

Johnny received a harsh glare from Mr. Fletcher. It seemed he was about to be told off, but then a small gray squirrel jumped into the classroom from an open window. It scurried over to Emma and crawled onto her shoulder, chattering in her ear.

"Emma," I began quietly, "what the fuck is up with that squirrel?"

Emma giggled as the squirrel made its way to the top of her head. "I told you I saved a squirrel from some nasty pig-boy, didn't I? This is him. He's been following my around a lot." She gripped the squirrel by the tail and held him up for the entire class to see. "Hey everybody, say hello to my friend, Mr. Acorns!"

The class held up their hands and waved in one slow motion. Emma giggled and placed the squirrel back on her head.

"You can't take pets to school," Mr. Fletcher said quietly.

"He's not a pet, Mr. Fletcher," Emma said darkly, her mood swinging. "He just likes to follow me around. I saved his life!"

Mr. Fletcher crossed his arms. "Well then, I'll just have to call pest control."

If looks could kill, Emma would have maimed the man with her eyes. But thankfully, we had better methods.

"Listen, Mr. Fletcher, why don't we talk about this in the hall?"

Mr. Fletcher stubbornly stayed put. "Any special reason?"

"Listen, you fucking prick," Johnny said, "if she wants to talk about it in the hall, you're going to talk about it in the fucking hall."

Mr. Fletcher nodded hesitantly and followed Johnny, Emma, and me out into the hallway.

"Now what is it that's so important you have to talk to me out here? I'm calling pest control, and that's that."

"Listen, you sorry excuse for a human being," Emma began loftily, "today, Sammi and I have had our fun going on a killing spree and joyfully annihilating all the people who have seriously gotten on our nerves. I think you know how badly you get on all of our nerves. So it should be evident...that you're next."

"W-wait a minute," Mr. Fletcher stammered. He held up a hand, as if to shield himself, but knew well enough not to run away. "It doesn't all have to end this way. We could talk with your guidance counselor...if the way I treat you kids can drive you do to things like this, I can change. Really! I didn't realize what I was doing!"

"Why must you people constantly repeat yourselves?" I sighed. "That story is tired, Mr. Fletcher, so tired." I motioned to Johnny to hold him so he couldn't escape if he dared to try. Johnny gripped him by the shoulders as I told Emma my idea.

Mr. Fletcher was forced over to the nearest water fountain, and his head was thrust down. Emma pinched his nose shut. After granting a few seconds of agonizing confusion, I started the water flow. He tried to wrestle away, but Johnny refused to let up. Mr. Fletcher sputtered, trying to force the water out of his mouth so he could take a breath.

"Stop fighting it and just inhale. You can't hold out forever."

I was absolutely calm, with my finger pressed down on the fountain's button, watching my teacher struggle. I felt more alive than I ever had been before, watching the life being drained from someone else.

After a little while, Mr. Fletcher stopped struggling. I studied him, not noticing any movements. There was no rising and falling of his chest. Emma must have also noticed this, because she stepped back, letting go of his nose.

He attacked us the second we let our guard down.

"You won't get away with this!"

He had faked death, holding his breath to make us believe we had killed him.

"You're going to the principal's," he slurred, gasping from the water he had inhaled. I was amazed that he was still alive.

"Oh my god," I marveled. "How the hell can you...do that?"

"I don't care!" Emma yelled. "I've been waiting too long for this, and we are not fucking getting busted!" In an insane rage, she tore Mr. Fletcher's glasses off of his face, snapped them in half, grabbed his head with both hands, much like a basketball, and slammed it into the wall.

There was a loud, sickening crack. After my teacher collapsed on the floor, I surveyed the damage his head had inflicted on the wall. There was a large dent. I knew at once that there was no way Mr. Fletcher could be faking death now. Johnny even looked impressed. He took hold of Mr. Fletcher's arms and dragged him down the hallway, leaving him just inside the bathroom.