Stitched

Homeroom

   Kitten,
   How was your summer? Mine was alright, just the same as it always is. I see you tried to cover up the bruises under your eye again. I just don't understand why you keep putting up with it. Kitten when will you learn that he's not good for you? Why were you limping earlier? You looked like you were in pain. Beautiful but in pain. I like what you did with your hair today by the way. Leaving it down instead of in your usual messy bun. You should do it more often. I gotta go, but talk tomorrow. I missed you.        
- Yours Truly

   Finding the note in my locker after third period has already lightened my mood. Grabbing my notebook and heading to the library I write down my phone number. Tearing it off, I insert it between the pages of the dictionary I use to write him back. After not being able to write him back after the first few letters he wrote me I eventually gave up until he told me where I could leave him messages. Turns out it's an old dictionary that's still covered in dust in the back of the library. If he wants to chat more then he will text me, no more of this back and forth pen pal handwritten messages.

After pushing the book back in it's place I see someone browsing the other books no one ever looks at anymore. Weird. The guy has his headphones on and his hood pulled up covering most of his face. He's tall, I'm 5'6 so I'm pretty average but this guy is over 6' tall. Black jeans and combat boots with a dark grey hoodie that covers most of his face. Not creepy at all. But who am I to judge?

My long black curly hair falls down my back to my butt with straighten my bangs. My wrists are covered in bracelets, mostly yarn ones that I made myself, and I'm wearing a nirvana t-shirt, black shorts with black fishnet leggings and my feet are tucked into my signature white doc martens. Compared to me, he looks like your average guy.

Yeah.., your average guy. So why am I getting a vibe from him that I know him? I can't see his eyes but I know they are looking at me. The intensity is raising the hairs on the back of my neck.

Clearing my throat, "Can I help you?" God I sound like a teenage boy with my voice cracking like that.

He looks up slightly and I can see his dark hair peaking out from the top of his hood, and I can also see his eyes. They look like pools of vibrant blue that remind me of the pools you see in tv or maybe the Pacific Ocean. He looks behind him as if there is someone else besides the two of us in this section of the library.

"Yes you! Your staring at me." I couldn't hide the amusement in my voice if I wanted to. The look on his face can only be described as shock when he looks back realizing that I'm talking to him again.

Shaking his head at me he grabs a random book and leaves. He doesn't even look back. He was hot. Like really hot. Why didn't he speak to me? I wasn't mean to him was I? Did he think I was poking fun at him? Oh well, I don't time for him right now. I have to find this stalker guy. He's not a stalker, I don't feel any violent vibes from him. I called him stalker one day after passing messages back and forth just joking around with him and the name stuck.

Leaving the library, I look both ways making sure I don't see Marcus and make my way to my class. It's really a blessing and a curse being here at school. At least here at school I'm practically invisible to Marcus. He's always to preoccupied by what flavor of the day is on his arm or the other jocks that surround him.

There are a couple people that recognize me, and they lift their chin in acknowledgment, giving me a silent hello but other than that no one really bothers me. Not until Marcus gets high or drunk decides that he needs to pay me a visit at home.

Sliding into my seat in home room I see that guy in the hoodie again. He has his headphones on and is bobbing his head to music. As if he can feel me looking at him he lifts his head and immediately looks at me, catching me staring at him. How have I never noticed this guy before?

Feeling the beach seat shift with a weight change I look over to see a guy sitting next to me. One of Marcus' friends, Garret. He was always a nice guy, a flirt but harmless. Didn't treat me any different when Marcus publicly broke things off with me as if it was his idea.

"Hey Kay" he said smiling at me. "Looking extra edible today." Grabbing his calculus textbook out of his backpack and flipping to his marked page he looked back at me and smiled. He was cute don't get me wrong but I've already been stung by one jock, didn't need another one. He was also Marcus personal defensive lineman. Has never let someone from the opposing team touch Marcus, unfortunately. But here's hoping one day. Fingers crossed ladies and gentlemen.

"Hey Garret. Looking extra jock-ish today," i replied smirking. Looking at him wearing his letterman jacket representing our school colors of yellow and black. Home of the Hilsdale Hornets.

"And what, pray tell, do you mean by 'jock-ish', Kay? Handsome? Incredibly irresistible?" He said smiling at me with clear amusement in his eyes.

"Oh you know, scholarly inadequate, maybe football obsessed because your wearing your jacket like if you take it off you'll be lost without it." I replied with a straight face and innocent smile.

"You wound me Kay-Kay" he replied with placing a hand over his heart. "I'll have you know Im a straight B student."

"How many teachers did you have to fuck to accomplish that?" I said while picking at my thumb nail. I'd polished them last night and my right thumb always gives me issues.

"Maybe a couple" he was smiling and looking away when I turned and looked him shocked. Hearing a very soft scoff I turn around only to see hoodie guy shaking his head smiling. How had I never noticed this guy before?

  Right then when he looked up and met my eyes the door busted open and in walked our history teach Mr. Lance. "Alright class settle down" he said setting his old worn briefcase down. I guess he had a lot in common with that briefcase by the way his hair was grey and the dark bags under his eyes.

   "Here's a packet I need you to have filled out by the end of the semester if you want to go on the senior field trip." The monotone of his voice could put anything to sleep. "This year it looks like we are going to the great city of New York." You could hear the students in the home room getting excited and getting louder already making plans on what they were going to do. "Yes, yes, very exciting but may I remind everyone that won't happen unless you have an average grade of a C or higher."

Bzzzz. Bzzzz. Bzzzz. Feeling my phone go off, I look up at the teacher and he has his back turned so I sneak a quick peek at my phone in my pocket and see I have a text from an unknown number. Mystery guy maybe? Quickly sliding my backpack up onto the desk in front of me and slide my phone in to hide myself texting. I open to message.

Unknown: so we're taking our relationship to the next level kitten?

It is my mystery guy!!! Ok calm down, deep breaths. After quickly changing his name in my phone I type out my reply and hit send.

Me: well I got tired of the waiting periods, so you going to tell me your name?

Stalker: if I told you then I'd have to kill you.

Stalker: I'm joking but why do you wanna know so bad?

Me: funny. Bc I feel like you know me. You know who I am, my name, my secrets. I know very little about you.

Stalker: you know me better than you think you do.

Me: what should I call you other than stalker?

Stalker: whatever you want

Me: lol that doesn't help. If I guess or ask you questions will you answer truthfully?

Stalker: depends

Me: on?

Stalker: if you can handle the truth or not.

Well that isn't ominous at all.