Sadie.

2 Interview with a Bully

2

My first classes of the day pass slowly with no sign what so ever of this 'Sam Peters'. His name was called during third period, but no response followed the teacher’s dull drone of his name. Maybe he was there and didn't say anything or maybe he skipped. Maybe he's actually a figment of my imagination and I'm just going insane.

The bell for lunch finally tolls its sounds of freedom and I lurch from my desk. Economics isn't fun as it is, let alone when you have a completely bat shit teacher. She compared an apple to the downfall of the country. And we'd been talking about classroom rules.

I let myself be taken up in the steady flow of bodies migrating towards the cafeteria. Trying to decipher excited chatter filling the hallways, I listen for any mention of his name.

A thought suddenly crosses my mind and I freeze. What if it's a girl? Sam can be a girl name, right? What if she won't do it because she thinks I'm a lesbian or something? What if she's a lesbian? What if it isn't a girl and he thinks I'm coming onto him?

With a defeated sigh I start moving again, ignoring the angry pokes and remarks from my peers behind me. This is stressing me out too much. Where's a Twix when you need one?

The cafeteria is pretty ordinary looking, round tables dotting the expanse with an impatient line of pizza eaters at one end, and doors at the other.

I scan the area for Penny, hoping that she could point out the he or she I'm searching for, but I can't spot her blonde tangles in the sea of unfamiliarity. Rubbing my nose in the typical stressed out fashion I have, I move forward into the hungry bodies.

A few heads turn when I walk by, obviously trying to remember me from somewhere. I duck my head and pull at my obnoxiously curly hair. I hate when people stare. Almost as much as I hate dolls. And trust me, that’s a lot.

After standing in the center of the lunchroom for a few minutes, I heave defeated sigh and shuffle up off towards an empty table. About half way there, though, I spot Penny. She's alone, of course, sketching furiously a few tables away. I approach her slowly, not stupid enough to guarantee myself the same kindness she showed before.

"Penny?" She looks up at my voice and blinks in surprise. "I don't know if you remember me, I-"

"Sadie, why wouldn't I remember you? We talked like three hours ago." She says with a tone that politely tells me I'm a moron. I clamp my mouth shut and look down. "You can sit," She says before I hear the swish, swish, swish of her sketching start up again.

I slowly lower myself into the seat across from her, pulling my bag into my lap and glancing around with wide eyes. This is the first time anyone has invited me to sit with him or her, how are you suppose to react?

"Lovely weather," I croak.

"What?" Glancing up in bewilderment, Penny stops her sketching again.

"Weather. It's lovely..." I trail off. Penny stares at me for a minute, pushing her glasses up with a forefinger.

"Yeah," She murmurs, going back to her drawing. "That's California for you." I fill my cheeks with air and blow it out, watching my bangs float up in the air as I do. "So are you going to tell me why you're really here or just sit there blowing like a hump back?"

My eyes widen and that stupid mouth of mine falls agape. I'm not sure why I'm so astonished. Maybe because no one really talks to me, let alone tells what I'm thinking.

"Who is Sam Peters?" I finally manage to get out. Penny sighs a little and pulls out a different pencil, doing smaller circular motions across the page.

"He's sitting behind us, to the right- my right." She finally says, gesturing with her head lightly. I crane my neck and peer behind her at the many tables. I spot one in the very back, a lone figure hunched over in their seat.

"The loner?" I ask. Penny nods in confirmation and I stand up. "Thanks," 

"Good luck!" She calls as I scuttle around a few scattered people. I'm still receiving the questioning looks. People are starting to realize I'm different. I need to work fast.

As I approach the table I slow down. The person, a guy I'm imagining if the width of his shoulders are anything to go by, has their head down, resting on frightening looking fist. He's wearing a dark brown leather jacket over a black hoodie and, as I approach, glances up to reveal shaggy black hair falling into a pair of cold eyes.

He's perfect! A small celebration goes off in my mind, brain cells shaking each other’s hands and throwing confetti. No one will mess with me if I follow him around! I practically pee my pants just looking at him. From fear, not from excitement, I mean.

His gray stare follows me until I'm right across from him, my fingers drumming lightly on the tabletop. I clear my throat.

"Hi," I say quietly, flashing him my best smile, all the while trying to keep my lips from going too far back. I have a tendency to look like a shark sometimes. Not an intimidating one, just a ridiculous one.

He just stares at me, a silver eyebrow ring glistening in the florescent light. I rub my nose and pull out a chair.

"My names Sadie," I say as I ease myself down, practically holding a hand out for him to sniff so he doesn't maul me. He remains silent, a knot forming between his brows.

We have a stare off for a few moments, mostly consisting of him glaring and me rubbing my nose. He's actually pretty attractive. I hope he's actually intimidating to people and not just me. I try to predict the angle of his nose that’s slightly up turned at the tip and count the spattering of freckles he has over his cheeks.

"What do you want?" He finally asks. I nearly fall out of the chair.

"I have a proposition for you," I start, drawing a loopy design on the table top with my pinkie. "Kind of an odd one."

"I'm not going to go out with you." He grumbles and puts his head back down. I blush scarlet and start shaking my head vigorously.

"No, no, no!" I say a little more loudly than what’s socially acceptable. A few kids glance our way. After a moment I continue. "I'm kind of a loner,"

"No, really?" He asks, looking pointedly at my outfit of yoga pants and a sweatshirt. I cross my arms and huff.

"I need someone to protect me." I finally say, spitting it out in the usual ungraceful manner that I have. He furrows his brow and runs a hand through his hair. I watch a feather, most likely from a down pillow, fluff out of his ebony locks and drift to the floor.

"And what exactly do you need protection from?" His tone is condescending and I struggle to hold myself together.

Rubbing the tip of my nose, I gesture widely to the people around us. "Your average high school student." I say.

"Hmm."

That’s all? Hmm?! I tap my foot on the floor impatiently and stare at him with buggy eyes. He has to have more in there than 'Hmm.'!

After another moment of silence, he speaks. "And tell me," He begins, crossing his arms on the table and leaning forward. "Why would I want to help out a flat chested, obnoxious little girl like you? Why would I, when I could get any girl in this room?" I assume this question is rhetorical and stay silent. "Do you know the answer? Hmm? I do. I wouldn't." And then he stands up, slamming a book shut that I hadn't noticed under his arm and walks away.

Well. That went better than expected.

 A/N: I wont take as long updating next chap, I promise!

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