One More Suicide

//Chapter Eight//

Hattie ignored everyone on her way to school and in school. Her chest felt heavy with pain as she walked to the place that brought more. Malik stood with Arabella by the entrance of the school and his eyes were on her as Arabella chatted away with the brunette next to her. His gaze wasn't a glare or close to being cruel, he just simply stared at her. Hattie stopped and stared back at him, her lips pursing. She hadn't seen him since she had found her shredded clothes leading to her fight with both Arabella and Ms. Torres.

She stared at him and yet his gaze did not move. She shook her head and started to walk to the entrance--Malik's gaze still on her. Could it have been that, now, after she had gotten what many people thought she deserved, he finally felt guilty? In Hattie's mind that was impossible.

Yet as she went through her classes, and passed by him, her eyes would meet his.

The teachers around her seemed to not care about the lack of participation and social life. Not like they ever did. Though today, when she entered her fourth period class, she didn't even have the chance to sit down. As soon as she came into the class, her calculus teacher called her up.

"Ms. Torres ordered me to send you to her office," he announced. He handed her the pass, but as soon as she started walking towards the door he brought her back. "Don't you dare go somewhere else instead of her office."

Hattie rolled her eyes at him, turning to walk out when she crashed into the confusing boy that was Malik Chandler. She mumbled an apology followed with an insult too low for anyone to hear. Malik quickly let go of the arm he had grabbed to keep her from falling and moved to his desk, keeping his gaze away from her.

She shrugged to herself and made her way out the door, wondering in how much trouble she would be in if she hid in the bathroom, again.

Hattie stood in front of Ms. Torres' closed office door, glaring at the wooden barrier in hopes it'd disappear. A vain attempt, that is, because Ms. Torres pulled open the door and leaned against the frame.

"Are you coming in at some point or are you just going to stand there?" The teasing tone in her voice set off Hattie's anger and the girl walked forward, almost pushing her principal out of the way. "So, um, I talked to your mother yesterday on the phone and she told me th--"

"I know what she told you," Hattie interrupted her. "She told you how she finally apologized to her empty and awful-looking daughter, and that I forgave her and I told her that I was pretending." She sat down in one of the chairs. "Now you want to talk to me because you feel guilty about what you've done and said."

"Well, you covered most of it," Ms. Torres murmured. "Why would you pretend, Hattie?"

"Oh," Hattie said in mock shock. "No, Ms. Torres you got it all wrong." Hattie shook her head. "I'm not pretending."

"Then why did your mother say--"

"That's what I made her believe." Hattie threw a look at the woman. "It was a test that she failed. Miserably, may I add."

"Test?" Ms. Torres looked at Hattie questioningly. "What are you talking about?"

Hattie gave a humorless laugh. "You should have seen the look of pure joy on her face! Not only that, but she cooked me breakfast after months of ignoring me. I had to tell her that I was lying and that I really liked girls."

The older woman stared at Hattie. She slowly shook her head. "I don't believe you."

Hattie stood up. "Why not?"

"I know you're not this way. I know that--"

"Now you're just talking like my mother!" Hattie blurted out. "Stop talking like it's impossible for me to be like this!"