For the first time in a very long time, I am completely unable to focus in class. Rather than taking notes, I've been fidgeting uncomfortably in my wobbly desk for the past half hour, somehow drowning out the shrill squeak of chalk against the bored.
I can't help it, but every time Mr. Galloway opens his mouth to talk about Beowulf, my mind drifts back to the "incident", as I have taken to calling it. My sides still ache in protest to each movement, serving as a constant reminder that I'm not safe anymore.
I drag fingers through my hair, uncrossing and re-crossing my legs for what must be the fifth time. Beatrice is sitting across from me, shooting annoyed looks in my direction. I give her an apologetic smile and try to still the ball of nervous energy I've become.
Since that night Gary's made himself sparse. I've been wracking my brain for what wicked schemes he could be off formulating... but I've got nothing. He was only in the room for a handful of minutes over the weekend. Though my heart almost stopped dead when he came waltzing in, he simply grabbed a few things off of his unkempt bed and left. No talking. No acknowledgment. No "Hey, sorry for beating you up Friday. It was a total dick move and I'll never do it again". No nothing.
And strangely enough, everyone else seems to be ignoring me too. In fact, things have been so quiet that I am close to admitting that I may or may not be terrified. Just a little.
It's not like I miss being constantly berated by every other clique on campus, But right now there's just... nothing. It's beginning to feel unnerving. Beatrice has to be the first person to look me in the eye all morning.
I swear, it's like I'm physically repelling the rest of the student body.
Regardless of what Gary's been up to, within the space of a weekend Peter Kawalski has simply stopped existing.
It must be some part of his grand plan, to lull me into a sense of false security. Wait until the water is calm to strike. I wish he would just get it over with already. Without him tormenting me, It's starting to get a little lonely.
"Mr. Kowalski?"
I snap my focus back to the board, and to Mr. Galloway's haggard, and ever-so-slightly annoyed, face. "I asked you a question. Were you not listening?"
I'm turning an embarrassing shade of red while I struggle to answer him. He closes the distance of the classroom to loom over my desk, looking disappointed. I smell the whiskey on his breath as he asks, "Can you tell the class what Hrothgar's mead-hall was called?"
...Fucking Beowulf.
I wrack my brain for an answer I simply don't know.
My attention's drawn just to the left of Mr. Galloway, where Algie is flailing wildly for my attention, mouthing the answer in the most over exaggerated way possible.
"H-… Heorot, Sir?" I offer.
He squints for a moment, considering not letting me off so easy. Luckily for me, he's just on the right side of tipsy this morning.
My locker did nothing to deserve the violent way in which I was shoving my books into it, but I was frustrated, a little scared, and the scratched up metal is an easy target.
I can't believe I'm letting Gary get to me this easily. Was this his plan? Turn me into a nervous wreck before noon?
It might work.
"Wow, Pete. Uh, you need to blow of some steam or something?"
The ginger boy is leaning against the wall, looking ridiculously cool. I don't think I've ever been so happy to see Jimmy, but here he is in all his stocky glory.
Finally, someone noticing my existence that doesn't want to yell at me.
"Hey Jimmy. Yeah," I close my locker in a more apologetic way. "Sorry. It's been a rough day."
He gives a neutral shrug, and nods in the general direction of the cafeteria. "Feel like getting some food? I hear it's even edible today."
It's the first time I've managed a genuine smile today. "Sure thing."
I don't think I always realize how grateful I am for Jimmy's friendship. It's one of those constants that, in the months that he's been at Bullworth, became as normal as "normal" can get here. There's no pressure. Whether we've talked the day before or weeks have passed, it's always just as easy between us.
Taking our seats in the far corner of the cafeteria, I feel at ease. Half an hour ago I thought I'd be ripping my hair out by now.
Jimmy's going on about his latest antics in town in lieu of actually eating the slop on his tray. I nod him on here and there to let him know that I'm still listening, but for the most part I keep quiet, content to let him direct the conversation.
"And he's got the nerve to tell me that I'm trespassing!Can you believe that shit?" Jimmy asked incredulously, chuckling along with me. "I mean, the nerve of some people."
"Trashing his car might have been a bit heavy handed." I laugh, picking through my food for the so called "edible" parts.
He looks up at me, smiling. "Yeah, well hindsight is 20-20."
Silence falls over us for a few minutes while we eat. I try to focus on this moment, on how good it feels to not be walking on eggshells for once.
I can tell he wants to ask about the bruises on my knuckles from the week before, or the scar on my lip from the one before that. But he won't.
This is how it goes with us. The unspoken compromise we've settled on. He'll never hear me say what Gary does to me, but he knows.
Jimmy doesn't push for answers. Instead he waits for the moments when Gary leaves me broken, and helps me put the pieces back together again.
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
I'm leaving the details of the relationship between Pete and Jimmy ambiguous. It's not important to the plot if they're platonic or have had relations in the past, so feel free to interpret it as you will. Just generally, Pete's mental stability has been very dependent on the kindness Jimmy's shown him.