Brooklyn Davis always had a problem with the things people say and with her attitude, she is always getting in fights which are earning her a reputation of being expelled from school. And it's been getting worse since her dad passed. Brooklyn finds...
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———————————————————— The rest of the day went by smoothly ignoring the fact that my head is still raging with a headache. I'm sitting in my last class of the day PE and I'm trying to figure out how I'm going to get home. I can't drive with this headache.
When the bell rings I wince at the pulsing pain. I'm so in my head I jump when I feel a hand gently rest on my shoulder. I turn around to find Eric and his two friends Liam and Carter standing back leaning against the wall with confusion written all over their faces. When I look up at Eric I can't read his face. It's hard and blank. His gray-blue eyes are dark and give nothing away.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," he says, taking his hand back and stuffing them into the pockets of his jeans. "It's okay. Can I help you?" I ask looking up at him squinting because of the lights. He seems to notice and sits at the desk next to me. I'm weirded out by the way he is acting. But he seems so casual and relaxed. Like it's normal.
"I was wondering the same thing," he said as he relaxed his posture without breaking eye contact. Does he want something from me? I don't have much to offer. I'm racking my brain for an answer and my expression seems to show that because he sighs and leans forward resting his arms on his knees. "You can't drive with that headache, darling. Let me take you home," he said with no change of expression. How is he so calm? Why the heck did he just call me darling?
"I appreciate the offer but I'm just fine," I say standing up and grabbing my things off the floor. "You can't even walk in a straight line, how do you expect to drive home safely?" He asked, following me out the door of the gym.
I ignored him and just kept walking. I got to the end of the hall pushing the door open, still hearing his footsteps behind me. He followed me to my car. "What do you want!" I snapped whipping around, losing my balance again and feeling nauseous. That's new. I caught myself on my car but felt hands hold my waist and my arm keeping me upright. My skin burns where he is holding me. It's almost like an adrenaline rush.
"I want you to be safe. Please let me take you home. I bet you're feeling nauseous as well," he said looking at me worried, the first real expression I have seen from him. I don't trust it.
"Why do you even care? You don't care about anything and then all of a sudden you do?" I said accusingly backing away from him still holding onto the car. He sighed looking down at the ground. "You could have a concussion and driving is not safe. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I just watched you drive off and put yourself at risk when I could have stepped in to try and help," he said stepping closer. I didn't back up because I wasn't afraid. "I don't know you, how am I supposed to trust you?" I asked, trying to keep my emotions in check and make sure my face gives away nothing.
"Why shouldn't you trust me?" He asked questioning my judgment! "Oh, I don't know, just that you're not acting like you do every day, for some reason care so much about my safety? That doesn't sound weird to you? And you are showing more emotion than I have seen from you in the last 20 minutes than the past 5 years that we have been going to the same school!" I say counting them off on my fingers.
