One Big Cliché

Chapter 12

Dustin

          I open my locker and drop my chemistry book inside. Apparently, I need to get help in that class, too, because the teacher thought it'd be a good idea to hold me after class, taking time out of my lunch to tell me so. Yeah, it dropped from a B to a C, but C isn't that bad. I'm a decent tester in that class. I just don't have a lot of time to do the homework. It's not that big of a deal. I figure I can just get it done after I finish up calc with Nicole. Maybe she's good at chem, too.

         Footsteps walk toward me and stop a few lockers down. That tall kid, John, starts spinning a dial, opening his locker. I bet he could be intimidating if he straightened up a bit; shoulders back, chin up. He could probably catch a lot of chicks if he just gained a little more confidence.

          Clearing my throat, I shut my locker and turn to him, "So, did Nicole pass out those presents yet?"

          He gives me a confused look and blushes a deep shade of red. Maybe I shouldn't have said anything. She could have been waiting for it to be a surprise. But then he swallows and says softly, "She wants us to meet her at her locker after school."

          I laugh, shaking my head, "It must have taken her two hours to finish shopping."

          His mouth opens to say something, but Donavin's voice comes out instead, and we both turn to see him sauntering down the hallway, grinning. I close my eyes and try to prepare myself for whatever he could possibly want right now. This school is big, but apparently not big enough.

          "Dustin, my man, there you are," he greets. His voice is tight, despite the enthusiasm he puts into his words. "Where'd you go for lunch?"

          John shuts his locker and hangs his head down low, trying to fold into himself as he walks past Donavin, who reaches out and grabs his arm, "Now hold on a minute, man. You're one of the freaks that hangs out with Nicole, right?"

          "Donavin don't do this," I plead quietly. "I thought you were over it?"

          He ignores me, shoving John into the lockers; not hard enough to hurt, but just enough to put him off balance. Donavin laughs, keeping his hand on John's chest. I watch as John clenches his jaw and fists, but otherwise stares off to the side with a forced kind of focus. Why? He's got height on Donavin; all he has to do is straighten up and stand his ground.

          Donavin smiles, like this is fun, "She called me a queer, why would I be over it? I can't stand the bitch."

          "What does that have to do with him? She's not even here," I remark, stepping closer. This guy looks like he's about to wet himself. Or cry. He looks down, his face a deep crimson

          Donavin just laughs, "Well, she should be here soon. I saw her leave and figured I'd catch up with her. Why do you care, anyway? Are you getting soft on me?"

          John tries to slip away, but Donavin pushes him back against the locker. John settles against the metal like he chose to be there, rather than risking aggravating Donavin further. I don't even know what to say as he stares at the nails on his right hand and starts flicking at them with his thumb.

          Then an itch makes its way from my chest to my arms, and I flex, my eyes narrowing. I don't even know why I'm reacting like this. Something he said echoing in my ear. "Why did you want to catch up to her?"

          There's an edge to my tone, and I know he picks up on it, his smile dropping and eyes glaring. He doesn't bother hiding the sneer in his voice, "I just wanted to mess around with her."