Crushing Gravity
Chapter 6
"Sam," a somewhat familiar voice says beside me, and I turn. It's Leah, smiling uncertainly.
"What?" I ask, pulling my book bag out of the locker.
"I was just wondering if you wanted to sit with us at lunch today? I can introduce you to everyone."
I look into her hopeful eyes and strangely can't find it in me to be suspicious. Her eyes flick up to my bruise, all blue and purple.
"You know you don't owe me, right? I get that it was an accident."
"Oh, no," her eyes widen. "I want you to sit with us. I want to get to know you."
I shut my locker. "Then no thanks."
She frowns when I start to walk away.
"Hey, wait-" he hand is hot, I can feel it through my hoodie, and I feel suddenly sick.
"Never touch me!" I snarl whirling on her and vaguely register her widening eyes, shocked.
Why is she so surprised when I already yelled at her just yesterday for this?
All friendliness is gone again as I glare at her, then I shove my way through the students, all of them touching, touching, touching me.
Being touched is not a fear. It's just very uncomfortable for me, and I'm not so desperately denying everything that I don't know that it's from my past. And I'm not a masochist, so I don't go searching out things that make me uncomfortable. Like people touching me.
Collin greets me as I take my seat, and I'm in a foul mood again so I ignore him. Again.
It still doesn't stop him from inviting me to have lunch with his group.
What is with everybody?
Like I had predicted, a lot more people come up to me today. I'm softer with the shy or sincere ones, gentle, but the ones that I can tell are asses, or bullies, I hold no tolerance for.
Over all, the first half of the day isn't so bad. It's at lunch that my real irritation starts.
"Hey," a cocky voice draws my attention away from my first bite of pizza. I had actually made it to an empty table just fine, but now I'm staring up at a hulking mass of muscle that immediately sets me on edge and my fists clenching.
He's as big as the other boys I've met so far and I recognize him as the one Leah was arguing with before she knocked me down.
"Hello," I say cautiously, scooting away. He's standing way to close and his shadow is literally cast over me. His smile isn't kind or sincere; it's full of malicious amusement and meanness.
"I'm Paul."
"Bye, Paul," I say in dismissal, wanting him to just leave me be.
He doesn't. He steps closer.
"So, since you're new and everything, I figured I could show you around the res, see all the local sights and hangouts."
"No," I say bluntly, no pretenses of niceties. I don't like him and I don't have patience for people I dislike.
A new voice enters the conversation, much sweeter but with just as much of a growl.
"Paul, back off." Leah is behind my chair now, fists clenched and shaking slightly.
He flashes her a smile before reaching out and touching my cheek with those hot meaty hands.
"Look, I think you're really-" wham!
Leah's jaw drops and Paul looks stunned, cradling his cheek a little.
Fuck! I mentally scream, ignoring Lyla's reprimanding voice.
That really hurt, it felt like I was punching a wall again! The scabs on my knuckles are completely ripped off, so I pull my hand back again to throw another punch at him, but he is shaken out of his shock.
He catches my first and it's tight, trembling slightly. My adrenaline spikes and I bring my knee up hard in his soft spot. Like I expected, he lets go.
Leah hurriedly gets between us and shoves him backward some more, farther away, which is just fine with me.
More giants surround us, and I feel trapped, until one of the boys wraps his arm over Paul's shoulders and speaks quietly in his ear.
Paul's shaking turns to just a quiver and everybody relaxes, causing me to relax as well for an unknown reason.
"So are we sitting here today?" A boy that looks about Brady and Collin's, so therefore, my, age asks too happily for the present mood.
"Yup," Jacob smiles and plops into the seat beside me.
Leah glares at him before she walks around the table and sits across from me. Thankfully, the wall is on my other side so I'm not completely surrounded.
The others flood the table, including my Foster-brother and his annoying friend. Well, the one our age; they're all annoying.
I sigh, recognizing a situation I'm not getting out of.
Leah starts the introductions. "You know Brady and Collin, and that's Seth, my little brother," she points to the happy boy now scarfing down half the cafeteria. "He's a sophomore. This is Jake, Quill, and Embry, they're juniors this year along with Kim, and Jared is her boyfriend." She points to the boy who calmed Paul down. "Him, Paul," she scowls at the name, "and I are seniors this year."
I nod to her introduction, feeling more awkward than ever. What am I supposed to do now? What am I supposed to say? It's not good to meet them; they invaded my table without asking. I don't want them here, but I know that's not the right thing to say.
So I don't say anything at all. I just bounce my leg, fidget, and eat my lunch.
When I'm uncomfortable, it gets even harder for me to sit still, so I throw the rest of my food away and head to the gym early to maybe run until the bell.
I can feel the sad eyes on my back as I walk away, and I turn to catch Leah's gaze.
She smiles a little, and lifts her hand in a farewell. I turn back around without acknowledging her.
After school and my run, Brady walks me home again, but this time, Collin is tagging along.
"So," Brady says, walking backwards the way that he does. "Later tonight we are having a bonfire of sorts of the beach. You want to come? I know Leah was planning on asking you, but she couldn't find you after you ran off during lunch."
It seems odd that he mentioned Leah, there was no purpose to that information, but I shrug it off.
"No thanks," I say, and it surprises me that it comes out a little polite. My subconscious must like him at least a little. Which is fine as long as I don't get attached.
Collin follows us all the way into the house. Apparently he's visiting today.
It doesn't matter any to me as I lock myself in my room, muffling their rowdy voices.
...
The first time I ever got in a fight, I was six, and the kid I was fighting was ten.
I don't remember much of it, but I do remember the kid, a boy, shoving my friend down the slide. I don't remember what her name was, or even the color of her eyes, but I know she had blond hair, and I know that she cried when she hit the ground, and I remember shoving him onto his butt.
The boy had leapt to his feet faster than I thought possible and shoved me back. But I didn't fall in my butt; I fell through one of the openings on the jungle gym, hit my head on the spiral ladder, and landed on my side.
I remember the boy's eyes, a light brown, widening as I fell, and the fear I felt, and then crying harder than I ever have before.
The boy was suspended and I got seven stitches on my forehead.
I remember my sister holding my hand as the doctor stood above me, eighteen years old and holding three jobs just to support us. She dropped out of college when mom was killed, just so she could take care of me.
Mom's death was still so recent and I remember her holding me as I cried in that doctor's office getting stitches, and listening to my side of the story.
Her words are what I remember so clearly.
She took me by the shoulders, our matching green eyes locked, and she said, "Sammy, it's okay. You did good kiddo. Never stop doing good."
And I had smiled so big, forgetting all about my hurting head and said, "I won't, Lyla, I promise!"
...
I stand up from the ground, glaring so hard that the kid in front of me takes a half step back before he can stop himself.
"Go," I snap to the younger boy against the lockers, and he hurriedly gathers his fallen books and disappears into the gathering crowd.
The older boy doesn't pay any attention to him anymore and shoves me to the ground again.
I really hate being touched.
I shoot to my feet again; my fist flying out and connecting with his jaw and making him stagger.
Then he's coming at me, inexperienced, and fists flying randomly. Which is just fine since quite a few of them hit, but I'm returning it just as well until I knee him in the soft spot and he falls, groaning, to a heap on the floor.
"Samantha! Jeremy! What on earth is going on here?!" Mr. Bummer decides to show up, red faced and flabbergasted.
I wipe some blood from my lip, still glaring but feeling so much better in the two weeks I've been here. A deserved fight is just what I needed.
"He started it," I answer truthfully.
The boy, Jeremy, groans still cradling his man parts.
A/N: Please review!
~Silver~