Locker 142

4

(Jake)

The person stopped right in front of my stall. I saw shoes. They were expensive-looking red suede shoes. They looked like they cost more than anything I could ever have.

I heard a knock, "JJ, I know you're in there..."

I didn't know how to respond to this. What did he want? What could I have that he could possibly want?

"Yes?" I answered.

He sighed and spoke again, "Are you okay?"

One thing that came to mind when he asks me that question is that whenever he asks me THAT specific question, I'm really not okay.

"I'm fine." I blurted out.

At that moment, I shouldn't have yelled because the door came crashing down and I was face-to-face with him. He had a hint of anger in his eyes.

He picked me up and pushed me against the wall and said, "I would really appreciate if you were honest with me for once..."

I couldn't look him directly in the eye. It was to awkward to bare. "Look at me when I'm talking to you!" he snapped.

He grabbed my chin and made me look straight into his soul. His grip tightened around my shoulders.

"You say you want to check on me," I mumble, "But are you actually making me feel better?"

He stood there silent for a few second with his tight grip still on me. I found it ironic how it was just us in the bathroom, alone. You can already imagine what could happen next.

I tried to move, but he shoved me up the wall, again. "Don't move." he said, looking down at me sternly.

"Are you going to hurt me or something?" I look up at him questioningly.

He scoffs, "No, of course not. Why would I do that?"

That was kind of a ridiculous question to ask when you have someone half your size pinned against the bathroom wall.

"Your grip is pretty tight on me.."

He releases his grip on me, "Sorry, I didn't notice I was, um..." he cuts off in embarassment.

"Why did you come looking for me?"

He shrugged his shoulders, "You were gone for quite some time, you could have been dead!"

I know he meant this as a joke, but I didn't feel like a joking vibe.

I muster up the courage to ask him, "How's your eye?"

It was still red from the blood rush. He smiles and said, "It doesn't hurt that much, Higgins has some weak punches."

Speaking of Presley, why did he seem afraid to talk to me? I wonder if Santiago had something to do with it.

"Did you have a word with him?" I ask.

Santiago's face turns back serious again and he responds, "Yeah, I told him not to come near you again."

If he told him not to come near me, I guess Presley broke the rules. I tell him, "He drove me to school this morning."

Santiago's eyes go wide. He was visibly upset. He was furious that Presley went past the boundary that he set.

"He apologized to me about pushing me."

Santiago's face relaxes and he closes his eyes. He must have been pondering for a good minute to think about what to say next, "He will never bother you again."

I wonder what he meant by that, but I really didn't want to push the conversation any further.

He gestures for me to allow me to walk out of the bathroom. I thought that it was crazy how he made me wait for his permission to leave the restroom.

"Oh, change of plans!" he says suddenly

His devilish smirk returns to his face, "You're gonna be sitting with me at lunch ."