Imperfect | est. 2015

45. Lost

    "Hey!" A custodian says, catching us through the window while he was washing the ones outside the classroom. Connor practically leaped out from where he was sitting after we'd finished chasing after each other—and the both of us just stared at each other, uneasily.

"Get out here, right now!" The custodian demanded. He was a rather elder-looking man with scruff on his chin and wrinkles under his eyes. He didn't come across as quite a big threat... but it was certainly terrifying to know that he could call the police on us.

"Shit," Connor muttered and grabbed my arm so he could lead me out of the classroom and duck down the other side of the hallway. I was ready to drag him out any nearby door and make a run for it, but he stopped me, "Skylar, no. We'd get in less trouble if we just go and talk to the janitor."

And I shook my head like he was insane, "If we make a run for it, he'll never know who we were."

"We can't just always run from things like this, we'll get caught." He looked at me, sternly and didn't let go of my arm.

Then I just sat there, kneeling towards the ground like the both of us were—then without a hesitation or a warning, I jumped to my feet and ran to the other end of the hall. I was fully aware that there were security cameras. I was completely aware that the staff of that damned high school already despised every bone in my body, simply because I was considered their "mischief student". I would be back to handle them senior year—but until then, I wasn't going to take any of their over dramatic barriers.

I tried to bust out the main doors, thinking they would be unlocked, but I was stupid enough to forget that only a few of the doors would actually be unlocked. I let my head fall back, for a split second, out of frustration and took another darting path to the other end of the hallway, then Connor knew that he couldn't persuade me at all—he just followed.

"Skylar Faith, you're going to get us arrested." He tells me, as if I didn't already know.

"Quit freaking out," I tell him, setting my hand over his mouth while I tried to pull open one of the heavier doors in the back, "it's not helping."

Then, once it was open, I knew the custodian would be able to see us running from our right. And my heart was practically in my throat. I was terrified. So, knowing that it was my only risky option—I took off running.

Holding my breath, I ignored how much he was already yelling at the both of us while we dashed across the concrete and into the grass where all that was left to pass was half an acre of the field then we'd be out of sight and into the closest neighborhood. I was already out of shape to the point where running that much could've made me pass out if I'd kept it going.

So I doubled over, once we were behind a fence and caught my breath. Connor was beside me, perfectly fine and trying to see if I was alright. He set a hand on my shoulder, while I had both of mine on the ground. And the way he laughed, made it sound like he was thrilled, "You're crazy." He laughs, trying to comfort me by setting his other hand on my shoulder.

I was still practically suffocating on how painfully out-of-breath I was, "Tell me something I don't know." I tried to talk as if I had an attitude—but it was hard to pull off when I was so exhausted.

I'd predicted that a custodian like that would've called the police if we weren't completely out of range in a matter of minutes, so, once I was back on my feet, I shoved him into the truck and we took off down the road to whatever place we chose to go to next.

-

The radio playing in the truck was calming enough while both of us were still breathless from all the sprinting, "Don't you think we should talk to Addison? I mean, don't you think she would be over something like this by now—she has to be really upset."
"She is really upset," I explained, trying not to swerve so much in the truck that we'd get pulled over, "you said it yourself, she'll get over it."