Started with a Whisper

Whisper - 10

"Hey listen up, I'm assigning homework tonight," Mrs. Bailey says over the chattering and buzzing class, erasing the board that had just been covered in notes on mortgages, IRAs and the pros and cons of owning property as well as renting. It's really enthralling, which is why an hour and a half later, I find that I don't know anything more than I did when I first walked through the door, and the definition of IRA on my paper is currently a snowman doodle.

I tap my pencil on the desk, it makes a thudding sound that causes a few people to shoot me dirty looks every now and then. I ignore them, grinding my teeth as I keep remembering how close I had come to kissing...him.

I was so stupid. Kissing Levi is like betraying myself. Honestly, I mean, if I let him any closer than he is, he could take everything. My spot as valedictorian, my award. The real question is, was I really willing to risk all of that, for someone like him?

Mrs. Bailey, stoops down and picks up a stack of papers on her desk. I find my eyes rolling to the clock above the door, focusing on the second hand, and then the slower than ever minute-hand. Five minutes. She distributes papers down the rows of desks, counting them out to fit the number of students, licking her finger every now and then to separate a few sticky pages.

"This is a review for your test tomorrow," she says, her voice cracking on the last word, "I'll be checking to see that you have it done at the beginning of tomorrow's class. You will find the answers in your notes." A few people mutter, stuffing the packet carelessly in their bags, or just sliding it into their binders.

Great, not only did I have to do this packet, with notes I didn't take, I had to test on information about the notes I didn't take.

Get a grip.

Five minutes are up, and everyone flocks to the door at the sound of the bell, squeezing past each other to escape. It's like Mrs. Bailey was never there, the way they push past her. I take my time, knowing fully well somewhere in those halls, a demon is lurking. Waiting for me, perhaps.

Giggles drift from the hall, voices mix together and each sentence or conversation runs into the next. From inside Mrs. Bailey's classroom, it feels like a whole new world out there, one with a language I couldn't speak. One where I am not accepted.

"Darcy?" I blink and look up at Mrs. Bailey who  is eyeing me over top of her glasses, which had slid to the bottom of her nose. "Did you need something?"

Notes, I think to myself. "No," I clear my throat, gingerly slinging my bag over my shoulder, "I'm just waiting out the stampede." She nods, understanding my rational explanation. As soon as the final bell rings, the teachers become doors, and the rules become nonexistent. I carefully move one foot, and then the other, making my pace slow, but not too deliberate. "See you tomorrow Mrs. Bailey."

In reply, I get a murmured 'Mhm'.

I step into the hallway, and notice to my relief this stretch is mostly empty, save for a few stoners huddled near some lockers at the far end. I stare at the ground and walk forward, making my way to where the buses are. 

I push through double doors, into the stairwell, and make my way to the first floor. I slide my hand down the rail as I go, which only makes me think about how many germs are on it, and then remove my hand quickly; wiping it on my pants for no reason. I pass a vending machine when I turn the corner heading for the main entrance, which was located near the main offices, it hums loudly. I notice another noise, a clattering sound, searching the length of the hallway, I see a janitor unscrewing the hinges of a locker door, with another door perched at his feet. 

That must be Chelsea's locker, and oddly enough, I always knew it was in the math wing, but I still couldn't tell you which one it is.

"Did you really vandalize that girl's locker?"