Deal With It By: Audrey B. Holley

Chapter 6

A bell rings, signaling the students to travel to next period. Gathering up my materials, I glimpse someone familiar from the corner of my eye. Turning fully toward the conversant man, I see the back of his spacious shoulders that lead down to his bunched thighs, and then his severely torn sneakers.

"Shy guy?" I say, but he isn't paying attention, and well considering the fact that isn't his name...

"Benjie." The teacher motions for someone to come forth to her clustered desk. At that, shy guy whirls around, unaware that I'm behind him, and then knocks everything from my arms.

"Sorry!" He almost seems frightened to have stumbled upon me.

We drop to our knees to pick up my books. With his edgy ways, he is speedy with his actions.

"So sorry Keelie. My mistake." He doesn't make any contact of the eyes, and when he fortuitously clashes his hand over mine while reaching for the same dropped item as me, he oddly holds it there. The delicate texture of his palm flurries my stomach as our skin touches.

He doesn't do anything, so I don't do anything. The teacher breaks the intriguing moment, unwinding the spell cast upon us.

"Coming," he says, rising to his feet, and I realize he's Benjie. He stretches out a hand, and so I grasp it. He draws me up with a simple tug.

* * * * *

It's lunch time, which sucks when you're a new girl.

Scanning the congested cafeteria, I spot Benjie at a table by his lonesome. I stride over, and sit across from him. His eyes are closed, and he bops his head to a song only he hears. I sit there a moment, viewing his features. From what I recall during the numerous times we've stumbled upon each other, I specify his form with the resemblance of a football player, but maybe a bit more heavier in some areas. There's a scar that crosses over his plummy lips, and a popping vein visible near his thin left brow. What I hadn't noticed before was his light brown birthmark on the right side of his jaw line. Had I thought it was dirt but never asked?

He then opens his eyes, and seems startled to see me just staring.

Taking the bud from his ear, he asks, "How long have you been there?" 

"Where'd you get that scar?" I ask, tossing a grape in my mouth.

He shrugs, but I'm sure he knows. He just doesn't want to talk about it.

I try something else. "Are you on the football team here?"

He nods.

"Does Franky not go to school?"

He sighs. "No, he dropped out."

"Why don't you?"

What's wrong with me?

What a dumb question to ask. I'm asking without thinking again, a bad habit of mine.

"Because I care."

I think for a moment. "If you're poor, then how'd you afford the motorcycle?"

Oh my gosh, I need to shut up.

"It's Franky's, not mine. He lets me ride it when I need to get away."

"Away from what?"

He laughs, and says, "You sure ask a lot of questions."

"What's your last name Benjie? And is Benjie short for Benjamin or something?"

"Harison, and no it isn't."

"I like Benjie. It's a good name. It suits your look."

An awkward silence takes charge, so to interrupt I ask, "May I have a listen?" He seems hesitant, but gives me an ear bud. 

After a moment of listening to the song, he shuts it off, and says, "It's gonna die." He winds the earphones around the musical device, and then shoves it into his pocket.

"Do you want me to buy you lunch?"

"No, I'm not hungry." He says with a shrug.

"Are you sure? We can just share my tray if you want."

"No, I'm good, but thanks for the offer," he says, and then studies me a minute. "I heard what you said about your friend in English. He committed suicide?"

There it is, that forming lump that always gets me choking up sobs. I only nod, afraid that if I talk, I'll crack.

Maria saunters over to us, and sits down next to me.

"I've come to apologize. I don't want you to think that I'm this girl who is a total...well you know what I mean," she inhales a deep breath as if preparing to say the most horrifying thing she's ever said. "I'm having a sleepover, my friends and I..." she points at two girls who are sitting, and giggling with Jimmy, and three other guys. "...we want you to come. You seem alright so just give me your number and I'll text you or something."

I reach in my book bag for a pen, and write on her palm in blue ink.

She smiles vibrantly, and says, "Thanks girlie."

Girlie?

She then stands, not even acknowledging Benjies existence or telling a simple hello. She prances over to her group, bouncing her booty in a way she hopes draws attention to her rather unappealing (in my opinion) rear end. When she greets her possy, she seems to giggle, and glance over her shoulder at me.

Is she laughing at me?

"It's all an act. She tends to gossip a lot, so if I were you, I wouldn't tell her anything. But I hear her parties are...fun, but I wouldn't know, I've never been invited."