Initials

Initials {23}

                “What happened?!” she cried and came over to me. I shrugged. “I got jumped,” I lied smoothly. I glanced at the bathroom. So close. I just had to get in there and clean up my face.

                “Are you alright?” she asked, concern clear in her voice. I pulled my hood up and nodded. “Yea. I’m fine,” I said with a shrug.

                Sam looked like she didn’t believe me. I wasn’t really sure how much blood I had lost and I felt really dizzy. I didn’t want to stop talking to Sam, but I knew I had to clean myself up.

                “I have to go wash my face Sam. I’ll sit with you at lunch, alright?” I said with a smirk. “Yea,” she said shyly before watching we hurry into the bathroom. Davey followed me and caught me as I began to stagger. He helped me stand before grabbing some paper towels while I checked out my reflection.

                Blood had dried all down my face. There were cuts on my head. None were dangerously deep though. I took one of the paper towels Davey had given me and wet it. I wiped the blood off my face and checked out my hair.

                There was blood caked in my hair. I sighed and began to wash it out. I winced as the water touched my cuts. Davey leaned against the wall and watched me calmly.

                “Any deep?” he asked. I shook my head. “Nah. I’ll be fine.” “You seem like you lost a lot of blood.” I shrugged. “I’m just really hungry. You got any food?” He dug around in his bag and pulled out a breakfast bar. He tossed it to me and I hungrily ate it.

                Once I had wiped the blood out of my hair and off my face, Davey and I headed to class. When lunch came around, I ditched Davey and found Sam sitting with Quinn. “Hey there,” I said and sat down with them grinning.

                Quinn glared. “Go away Eli,” she said, crossing her arms. I shook my head. “No thanks,” I said pleasantly. “Just let him stay today,” Sam said, letting her hair hide her face.

                Quinn opened her mouth to protest, but her eyes flicked to me and widened. “Oh my god!” she cried. Sam looked at me and gasped. “What?” I asked, cocking my head to the side.

                Blood dripped to the table.

                “Shit,” I grumbled and touched my wounds. They were bleeding again. I sighed and grabbed a napkin from Quinn. I held it to my head and turned back to the girls. “Eli, who did that to you?” Sam asked. “Someone who hates me,” I said and mentally cursed at the bitterness in my voice. They gave me sympathetic looks and I glared in disgust.

                “Don’t look at me like that,” I snapped. I hated sympathy. “Sorry,” they said at the same time and began to eat their food.

                “Where’s your lunch Eli?” Sam asked with a frown. “Don’t have any,” I said and shrugged casually. “Are you hungry?” I shook my head and rolled my eyes as my stupid stomach growled violently.

                Sam handed me half of her slice of school pizza. “No, you eat it,” I said. “I’m not going to eat it,” she said stubbornly. I sighed and took it. “Thank you.” I ate it and allowed myself to burp. “Ew,” Quinn said in disgust. I laughed and leaned back.

                Quinn got up. “I’ll be right back. I have to go to the bathroom.” “Thanks for sharing,” I said sarcastically. She rolled her eyes and left the lunchroom. Sam began to fidget.

                She sighed. “Um…Eli?” “Eli Mason O’Dell. That’s my name,” I said, raising an eyebrow. She nervously twirled a piece of hair around her finger. “I didn’t kiss Brad. He kissed me.”

                “And?” “And…I just thought I would tell you that. Because you kissed me the night before and…” she trailed off and looked down. I laughed and she looked up in confusion. I shook my head with a smile on my face. “Sam, I’m used to girls kissing me and then going off to another guy. It happens all the time and it doesn’t bother me.”

                Well, when she does it, then, yea, it bothers me.

                But I saw no reason to admit that.

                “But Eli, I didn’t kiss him back!” She almost sounded desperate. “Well, who do you like more?” I asked her casually. My heart slammed wildly in my chest. What if she liked Brad more? What if she didn’t even like me at all? Why did I even feel so strongly for this girl?

                “You.”

                I nodded, my heart still wildly slamming. “Good. Because I like you.” I leaned over the table and kissed her gently. I pulled away to see her blushing like crazy. I brushed her hair behind her ear before she let it hide her face.

                The bell rang and we got up. “I’ll see you later Sam,” I said with a wink. She blushed even more, her face a brilliant shade of red. “A-Alright Eli,” she whispered and walked away.

                After school, I decided to go to Davey’s. We had to take care of this whole Michael problem before he ruined things between Sam and I.

                I knocked on the door and his mom let me in. “Hello Eli! Are you looking for Davey?” I nodded as we entered the kitchen. “He’s up in his room,” she said as she opened the refrigerator. “Oh fuck! I know I bought lemon juice yesterday,” she said with a frown.

                Ah. So that’s what Davey was doing.

                I made my way up to Davey’s room and knocked on the door. I knew it would be locked. “It’s me,” I called. A minute later, Davey unlocked the door and let me in. I walked over and sat down on his bed, watching him as he put a cap on the lemon juice and hid it.

                Davey didn’t want his mom to find out he cut himself, so he used lemon juice to help the scars heal. He would put a little on a napkin and rub it on his scars. It actually worked. I would do it too if it weren’t for the fact that I didn’t want my scars to disappear.

                They were a symbol of my pain. They showed me how weak I was. They showed me that I had to push through life and endure everything if I wanted to be stronger than this. They were the reason I could face my dad.

                “What do you want?” he demanded, making sure his sleeve covered his arm. “I want to make Michael Taylor suffer,” I said simply. “You’re such a fag,” he said, shaking his head. I shrugged. “It happens. You in?” He nodded and sat next to me. We began to talk.

                About an hour later, I smirked triumphantly.

                We had a plan to take care of Michael. We would get rid of the backstabbing cunt once and for all.