Beneath The Surface

Chapter 1

Jamie

"Dr. Murray's discoveries of the cerebral cortex show us that-"

Mr. Jackson's voice rambles on and on, with another one of his lengthy, drawn out speils that not one of us could care less about.

He pauses.

Footsteps quickly approach my desk in the back left corner of the otherwise silent classroom.

A long object smacks against my palm, startling me awake.

My eyes snap open as I yell, "Shit!" at the top of my lungs.

Mr. Jackson stands before me, a yard stick in his left hand.

I cringe as I realize that I just fell asleep in class.

Again... ugh.

A small red welt appears on my palm as Mr. Jackson waves a pink detention slip in front of me and the class snickers and laughs to themselves.

"See me after class, Jameson," he says.

"It's, uh... yessir," I reply dumbfounded.

He walks back to his desk with the detention slip pressed between his fingers.

☾

After class, I stay at my desk, waiting for Mr. Jackson. As he finishes with other students he looks me up and down, as if sizing me up for a fight.

I squirm in my seat.

God, please don't let it be that bad.

The class soon empties and he motions me up to his desk at the front of the room. I take short strides up the aisle, trying desperately to control the anxiety pooling in my stomach, and sit in the chair before him.

"Jameson," he acknowledges me briefly, getting a bit more comfortable in his chair.

"Uhm, how are you doing?"

That's weird. I expected a lecture.

"I'm fine... how are you?" I ask awkwardly.

He sighs and loses his composure.

"Look, James, I'm not going to sugarcoat it. You've been falling asleep during class constantly this past week and, normally, I'd just fail you,"

Wow, no sugar there.

"But all of your teachers, I included, can't help but notice..." he shifts uncomfortably, "...the bruises."

I feel my heart drop at his unexpected words.

Oh, shit.

"Is there something you need to tell us?" He looks at me with concern draped across his face.

Lie.

"Mr. Jackson, I've told you all before. I'm just... really clumsy."

He sighs, unbelieving.

"Really, Sir. I'm fine. I tripped and fell down the stairs this morning, while getting ready for school."

Not so much a lie, but I think 'pushed' is a more accurate term.

He seems unconvinced but I stand anyway, desperate to get out of this classroom and, more so, this conversation.

"Thanks for your concern, Mr. Jackson, but I can assure you that I'm fine... So anyway, I uh... I'll see you in detention tomorrow."

I rush out of the classroom and half-run-half-jog home.

☾

A few hours after getting settled, I stare, bored, at the TV as Rose Quartz's curly, pink locks fill the screen while she leaves a sweet message for her only son.