Run

Part One | 5

Chapter 5

"I remember very vividly what it was like when I met Marie. She was the first girl in Middleborough I talked to. I don't know why, but I think I was nervous around her. She made me nervous. No girls ever made me feel that way. And she was so much like me. Just from the first time talking to her I knew that."

...

With every passing day, I began to notice that I brought attention to myself simply by existing. I wasn't stupid. I saw the eyes that lingered my way in every hall and through every passing period. I was a new face and everyone wondered what secrets I had. Middleborough High was a sucker for gossip.

It was only the first week of school, though, so I hadn't received a reputation just yet. No one but Jorden approached me and no teacher really cared to get to know me. It wasn't something that I was bothered by really. This was high school. Besides, after this school year, I'll graduate and disappear. But until then, Jorden's company wasn't all that bad. He was annoying as hell, but I missed having someone to talk to, and he was my only source of cigarettes. I had smoked my last one two days before school began.

It was Friday and we were at lunch, Jorden talking and me not listening. That was until my eyes caught a familiar face. I saw her only a few times during the week, each time she seemed irritated. She would always have dark circles under her eyes and her hair was always a little messy. For some reason, the look fit her.

I looked down at the half-eaten sandwich Gale made for me, trying to act as if I wasn't too interested. Most of me wasn't, but I was still slightly curious about her.

"That's Marie. You met her," Jorden said lowly.

I huffed. "Barely."

"Don't waste your time, Bryson," Jorden said lowly, scooping some mac and cheese into his mouth. "She's a bitch."

I raised an eyebrow lazily. "Aren't you friends with her?"

Jorden paused. "Friends?"

"She was with you guys at the gas station that one day."

He shook his head. "Nah. She just happened to be around."

I looked back in her direction and watched as she set her meal on a table and ate alone. She crossed her arms and ankles and quietly looked around, not uncomfortable or embarrassed. In fact, I didn't know what kind of expression she was wearing. I wondered if I should feel bad for her.

"Is she a senior?" I asked.

Jorden laughed. "Why don't you just ask her?"

I glared at him. "Why would I ask when you know the answer?" I looked at her again before reverting my gaze to the sandwich.

Jorden set his elbows on the table. "There's not much to her, Bryson. Trust me, not worth it."

...

When my advanced English class ended, signaling the end of the day, I lazily lifted my backpack from the floor and threw it over my shoulder. I was beat and I couldn't wait to get back and sleep. Unfortunately, just as I was about to leave the room the teacher called my name.

"Bryson?" he smiled gently, holding a piece of paper.

I slowly approached his desk and leaned against my left foot. Looking at the paper, I noticed the red inked A and the many singular complementary words sprawled line after line.

I looked back at him. "Yeah."

He let out a surprised chuckle, lifting the paper and playing with the corners. "You're... a really good writer."