The Words You Left Unspoken

F i v e

My friends are constantly talking about several break-ins and street fights in our neighborhood since Zachary went missing. Where is he and what is he doing? Is he involved in these crimes? If yes, then why? Out of boredom? Why isn't he coming to school? But, somehow, I can't bring myself to face him properly after what happened a few days ago. Was he still half-asleep when he suddenly approached me? Why wasn't I able to say anything? Why didn't I push him away? Most importantly: why was my heart beating so fast? The scent of the flowers surrounding us, took the atmosphere to a totally different level. Did I want him to close the space between us? Was I anticipating a kiss? A kiss with Zachary? But why would I? I only want to be friends with him. He has a bad personality. I've never thought about kissing someone who pisses me off this often. To be honest, I've never really thought about kissing anyone up to this point. I wanted to concentrate on my studies and satisfy their expectations of me. God, why am I so irritated?

Walking along the hallway and passing multiple classrooms, I notice a slim figure dressed in a dark-red oversized sweater resting on a table. He's never dressed in his school uniform. Breaking the rules on purpose and I know it was my duty as a student council member to report this, but he looks nice in his own clothes. His arms are crossed in front of him, lying on the table whereas his head rests on them. How can he sleep here?

Fresh cuts and bruises on his face and dark-purple colored eyelids are destroying his kitten-like aura. Why am I angry? What happened to him and why would he sleep here so defenselessly? His injuries look as if he suffered a lot. They must hurt. Why would he show such a vulnerable expression where someone could easily see him? It seems as if there is no one around, but why wouldn't he go to the roof? Did he fear to meet me there which is why he didn't want to go there? What if someone has already seen him asleep? I am angry, even frustrated which brings me to the verge of despair. Why am I being possessive? We're not even friends, to begin with.

"Are you done staring?", he suddenly asks, and a hiccup flees out of my lips. He's awake? Why doesn't he try to run away like he usually does?

"What happened to your face?" He opens his cloudy eyes slowly, meeting mine as heat immediately starts to gather in my cheeks, reminding me of what happened a few days ago. How can he be so calm while I feel like losing my mind? Is he used to situations like these? If yes, then with whom is he sharing them?

"None of your business", he replies with his usual coldness. A quiet sigh leaves my mouth before I desperately try to suppress my sudden laughter. Why am I racking my brain while he's this calm? It somehow seems ridiculous.

"Amber? What are you doing?", Orlando's voice causes my head to snap to my right, watching him coming closer. His usual, warm smile on his face until he reaches me. His eyes following the direction in which I was staring a few seconds ago and his smile completely disappeared from his face.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?", he asks ere I feel his hand grabbing my wrist before dragging me a few meters away from the door. His chestnut-brown eyes watching me with irritation written in them. Why is he looking at me with this expression on his face?

"Why on earth are you spending time with him? Haven't we told you that he causes nothing than trouble?", he asks, his voice quiet but filled with rage. What is he? My father? Why bother telling me that he is trouble even though I have told them repeatedly that I think that he seems different from what everyone expects him to be? He means well, and I know that but why is he meddling in my affairs? I've told him that I would be fine with him being my friend only if he doesn't interfere with my studies. Maybe I should also expand this to my private matters too.

"We're just talking", I shrug and notice the tightening grip of his hand around my wrist. He's angry and, honestly, I can't understand why. What is he thinking?

"You do know that he is responsible for Mr. Williams resignation, right? He doesn't care about anyone besides himself. Stop getting involved with him", he says, and I stare at him with wide eyes. These are news to me. Why didn't I know that Mr. Williams was fired even though I am a member of the student council?

"I want to ask him myself", I declare before pulling my hand back to myself and turning around, aiming for the room in which he's still resting in. Was Mr. Williams fired because of Zachary's threats? What were they all about anyway? I'm pissed, confused and frustrated.

"You can't!", Orlando hisses as he suddenly pulls me back before I'm able to enter the room. A pair of cloudy eyes is staring at us, watching us intensively. What exactly is his problem? Why can't I understand him at all?

"Let go, Orlando."

"He's a horrible influence, Amber! Think about your parents and the life ahead of yours", he mumbles, and it's not until now that I realize his mouth next to my ear. How close are we standing to each other? Why isn't my heart beating fast like it did when Zachary approached me?

"I think she told you to let her go", his deep voice suddenly says as I watch him standing up and taking a few steps into our direction. His steps filled with pride and a whiff of anger.

"None of your business. Take care of your own pitiful life before meddling in ours", Orlando replies ere I feel two cold hands reaching for my shoulders, pulling me away from him. It takes a second before I see Zachary's fist firmly colliding with Orlando's face and my mouth drops open. Why did he punch him? Why doesn't he stop? Can't he see that Orlando is already bleeding?

"Zachary, stop! Stop what are you doing?", I shout as I try to hold him back. Seeing him throwing another punch while Orlando lies on the ground, blood coming out of his nose as he tries to defend his face. He looks as if he's in pain and I don't understand what's going on. Why is he fighting with him? Why would he do that? I hate it! I hate this!

"Stop it! STOP!", I yell before I squeeze myself in between them, shielding Orlando who's lying on the floor, panting heavily. Zachary's hand stops mid-air when he sees me in front of him. His cold eyes glaring at me before taking a step aside, aiming for the door.

"What on earth is wrong with you? Why would you do this? How can you be this heartless? Are you doing this for fun? I can't believe that you're such a horrible person!", I complain while he stands in the door frame. His back facing me, but he doesn't say a single word. My eyes traveling to Orlando who is watching me with wide eyes ere I try to wipe the blood from his face, using the sleeves of my school uniform.

"That side of yours, I hate it!" His laughter fills the air ere I see him turning around. His cloudy eyes glaring at me with their usual coldness, but somehow, I feel like he distanced himself even more.

"I've never said that I would be a good person. I told you before to stay the fuck away from me, didn't I? You're such a stubborn, stupid and naive nuisance to think otherwise. It was never my intention to make you like me. Maybe you'll learn from this mistake", he hisses before he leaves the room without giving me another chance to say anything in return.

My blood is boiling with anger. Who does he call a stupid nuisance? Naive? I should run after him, giving him a piece of my stubborn mind, but I don't want to face this cold and heartless jerk. What is wrong with him? Why would he do this? There must be something terribly wrong with him when he decides to hit someone without having a reason for it. I'm so furious. In all my seventeen years of life, I've never been filled with such rage.

"Are you okay?", I ask when I realize that Orlando is still on the floor, his head resting on my lap. His nose is slightly swollen and there are already a few bruises forming on his cheeks. He got punched because I didn't listen to him. Was it for his pure amusement? Why does he have to piss me off so much? This time, I won't let him get away with this behavior that easily.

"I've told you that he's a bad influence", he coughs before a weak smile stretches over his pained face.

"I'm sorry", I mumble while striking over his head softly.