How to fix the Broken Girl

Step thirteen: Stand Up For Her

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Chapter thirteen
[STATUS: NOT EDITED]
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Sitting at lunch, I stare off to space. Joe isn't here and I don't know why, but she didn't tell me. I saw her this morning when I dropped her off at school, so I know she is here. She said she feels a lot better. I didn't leave her house until midnight. I made sure she didn't move a muscle and sipped at the soda I bought her.

"Dude," Carter sits down beside me, his tray full of food. I snatch an apple off of his tray and nod at him. "You know that girl you saw at football practice? Brown hair and hazel eyes?"

I nod, biting at my apple. "What about her? Her name is Joelle."

I don't want anyone else calling her Joe, that's my thing, but Carter is my best friend. Even if he did call her Joe, I wouldn't care. He wouldn't try anything with her knowing that I like her. Of course, I didn't tell him I like her my Carter can read me like a book.

"She is sitting on the curb outside, by the office. She has a bunch of books around her ,but she has her head hidden in her knees, like tucked in a ball. I think something is wrong with her, you should go talk to her." Carter grabs a slice of pizza off of his tray and folds it, managing to shove half of it into his mouth.

"Thanks, Carter." I stand up and pat his shoulder, then make my way to the office and throw the core of my apple into the nearest garbage can.

I emerge the hallway and walk into the office and out the office door. I get a few stares from the secretary, but she smiles at me when she sees me walking towards Joe.

Joe sits with her legs hiding her face, her hair falling around her shoulders and her arms folded in front of her forehead. I look around her, two Spanish books and three more different books. She went to the library, she must have taken an out-lunch at school today.

A small sniffle comes from inside of the little ball she made, she is crying. Her shoulders shake gently as she tries to cry silently.

"Joe." I sit beside her instantly and wrap my arm around her waist. She pulls away from my grip and looks up at me. Her eyes are glistening from her tears and I immediately feel my heart swell.

"Joe," I brush my hand across her cheek, "What's wrong?"

I go to tilt her head towards me but she pulls away and covers the right side of her face. I furrow my brow and try to pull her hand away.

"Joe," I argue, "I'm not going to tell anyone. Let me see."

She shakes her head, "Not here."

Her voice is fragile and it makes me break inside. I nod my head and pick up all of her books, I carry them and help her stand up. Her hand still covers her cheek.

"Just wait here." I give her a weak smile and walk over to the office, to tell the secretary that Joe and I will be taking an out-lunch.

When I walk back to Joe, her hand still covers her right cheek and she keeps her head low so her dark hair covers her face. I grab her forearm lightly, but she flinches and pulls away.

"Don't touch me, please." It's almost as if she is pleaing, but she motions with we head for me to keep walking. So, I walk to my car and watch as she climbs willingly into my car.
•••••

We sit in outside, of a small restaurant, alone, besides a older man eating lunch in the corner with his wife.

Joe has been keeping her head down, covering her cheek with her hair, her hand or shoving her jawbone into her shoulder.

"Are you going to tell me what happened or what?" I ask her, shoveling my pasta into my mouth. She pushes the food around on her plate, her hardly touched Alfredo.

"I got hit." She says quietly.

"By what?" I furrow my brow and stop eating.

"Not by what- by who." She whispers. I watch as she uncovers her face, moving her hair to the side. A large bruise is beginning to form on her jawbone, by her lips.

"Who the hell is it?" I push my plate away. "I'll kill them." I feel fire running through my veins.

"No, Justin, please. Calm down." She pushes her eyebrows up, worried.

"No, I will not calm down. What is her name?" I ask, stand up, my thighs bump the short table.

"It's- it isn't a her." She whispers.

"What is his name!" I curl my hands into fists by my sides.

What kind of man hits a women? I can tell you one thing- he won't do it again. Not will any other man. I will protect her, if she likes it or not. No man will touch her, but me.

"Samuel." She puts her head down, "Don't do anything stupid."

"I won't. Punching him in the face isn't stupid- where is he?" I ask, snapping my fingers at a waitress to bring us food boxes.

"He was at the library." She stands up and puts her hand on my forearm. "Please don't, just take me home."

"I will." The waitress puts out food in boxes and I grab them, pay and the walk to the car. "After I punch him."

I start driving so she can't get out, she shoots me a glare. "That was evil. Like that should be illegal what you just did."

I smirk, "Wait in the car."

I get out of the car and walk into the library. This is going to be a scene- a fist fight at the library, bet the librarian hasn't ever had this happen.

I stand at the front of the library, then lean down to the elderly librarian.

"Excuse me, miss. Do you know who Samuel is?" I whisper and she nods, pointing her slightly wrinkled finger at a boy, in the back.

I walk back to him immediately. He has long black hair, to his blue eyes. He isn't lean or built, but he isn't fat either- just skin and bone. He wears a black and grey beanie, sagging off of the back of his head. Looks like a wannabe- This should be fun.

"Hey Sam!" I force a large, very fake smile.

His glances up from his small book, ignores me and then looks back down at his book. "What."

Well, isn't he a bundle of joy? He just hit a women, maybe he is just a little crabby at himself.

A small laugh escapes my lips.

"Think something is funny?" He raises an eye brow up at me.

"Yeah, actually." I drop the fake smile, "Stand up."

"Why?" He asks, closing his book in his lap.

"Because I'm not one to give an unfair fight- now stand the fuck up before I make you." I growl, fists clenched. Just the thought of I'm hitting Joe-

"Justin, please." I turn to see Joe's small figure standing behind me.

"Baby girl, back up. I don't want you to get hurt." I slightly guide her backwards by the shoulders.

"Oh, so now Joe is playing you to?" He stands. Ah, look at the good boy. "Just wait. She'll leave you when it's serious- when you think that everything is going great. She'll leave you for another guy."

"I didn't leave you for another guy!" She yells, "You ignored me, you didn't talk to me for days while you were out getting high! You were talking to another girl, on my fucking birthday!"

Sam takes a step forward, fists clenched and his knuckles turning white. He pumps his chest out as if he has any kind of tough in him.

"Touch her and I'll kill you." I growl. Tears prick at my eyes- when I'm pissed I cry. It's a habit I hate, men always make fun of it, until I show them what's up.

He let's out a laugh, which is my cue.

I grab him by the throat and slam him into the book shelve behind him. Good thing it's attached to the wall. He grasps for air, his eyes wide and I smirk. He swats and holds at my forearms, but football practice does good work on my arms. I feel small hands touch my back.

"Justin, don't. You'll get in trouble..." Joe says, behind me.

"I keep my promises, Joe." I say, before arching my arm back and nailing him in the face.