As Told By Nerdy

Chapter 11 - The Little Blue Box

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Chapter 11 — The Little Blue Box

Three fifteen. The hands in my wristwatch ticked much louder and faster than normal, it seemed to echo through the now empty girl’s locker room.

My heart rammed against my rib cage simultaneously with the ticking, bringing about the sweat on my hands and the mist in my eyes. The note sat beside me, an omen of my impending demise.

I knew it was him. Matt Adams. I gritted my teeth until they started to hurt, clutching on the loose ends of my sweats in a desperate attempt to restrain my cold hands from trembling uncontrollably. I rocked back and forth as I sat alone mulling over thirteen possible ways he could pound me to a pulp. And I thought about stealing a stretcher from the school clinic, along with a cervical collar, a leg cast and maybe a coffin as well.

Taking a few lungfuls of breath, I said a haphazard prayer for any sign that would notify me to chicken out, go home and convince my mom to move to Antarctica or even Narnia; somewhere far, far away where there’s no Matt Adams waiting to claw on my throat. The sign never came, so in every way possible way, I braced myself to finally spew to his face that I would not be his personal gopher ever again, but more importantly, I needed to retrieve Winfred’s book, if it still existed.

Finally, I stood reinforcing my resolve. If the situation turned out for the worst, I could always use the pepper spray safely hidden in my pocket or probably the self-defense moves I managed to execute yesterday; though I doubted it would work this time.

The door creaked faintly when I pushed it with a shaking hand. Protruding my head through the narrow opening, I saw him — Matt Adams, standing on the free throw line of the basketball court, eyeing blankly on the blue rectangular box clenched in his arms. There was a grim overcast from his dark furrowed brows that made me shiver and gasp for breath. Before I could even step closer to my doom, he said something which I didn’t quite comprehend being several yards away.

He nodded as if someone was talking to him. Then he opened his mouth again and glowered at whoever it was he was conversing with. Hurriedly, I fished the glasses from my pocket and shoved it on my face as fast as my trembling fingers could manage.

I craned my neck, treaded softly, careful to keep my presence unknown to them.

Becky! She stood motionlessly in front of the towering Matt Adams, her light blond locks casting a dim gloom on her candid freckled face.

Didn’t I tell her to go home without me? She hadn’t found out about Matt’s note, had she? I mean, I tried my very best to act as normal as I could, so why did she come here? To bargain with Matt? As if he’d listen.

The questions whirred inside my brain; it felt like my thinking process would short circuit any minute.

Becky stepped closer to Matt so that they were just a foot away from each other. He continued to glare at Becky while she stared silently on the floor, her lips quivering as she spoke softly.  

“Please…” said she, her voice breaking, tremulous hands offering a tiny pink envelope to the ungrateful recipient who took it unappreciatively. “R-read it,” she stammered, misty-eyed, her cheeks flushed, then scuttled for the door.

Before she could reach the way out, I skidded back to the hallway as fast as my feet could carry me and swerved to an open utility room, my heart pounding, my train of thought lingering on Becky.

The room smelled pungent of detergent and was cramped with vacuum cleaners, mops and other tools that were not familiar to me. I could not make myself fit inside decently without toppling a few things. Spiders and insects began to sprawl from the gritty walls and I had to bite my lips to contain the shriek that had formed in my throat.