The Rarest One

What Just Happened Part 2

(Crystal)

When the shadow froze over my small frame, I peeked up.  A relieved sigh expelled from my lungs, my long fingers covered my face, and I slowly straightened as my hands slid to my side.  A deer.  The chocolate-brown, long-legged doe stared at me through unblinking, milky-brown, soulful eyes.  "You almost gave me a panic attack,"  I said to the peaceful animal, a hand over my heart, "I swear, my heart stopped beating."  The doe snorted, and stomped one hoof.  The evening light cast an orange hue over the deer and my exotic  tan skin.  "You and I, we are kinda similar, both hunted, just you have a season while I will be hunted for the rest of my life," I grimly point out the truth, running my hands through my short hair.  The deer bolted, white tail flagging, and I smiled.  I walk into the living room, and plop down onto my army cot, which had a fuzzy red, green, and white Christmas blanket, draped over it.  I reached underneath into my duffel bag, and dug out my family album.  I flipped though the pictures of myself, my parents, and my little brother, Ethan.  I had an older brother, but he was kidnapped when I was two, and they never found him.  They never stopped looking for him.  Ten years later, when I was twelve, my mom was killed and I spent the next four years taking care of my little brother who was just four and my dad before he passed away from a mental illness. After my dad passed away, my little brother and I were taken, but I escaped, and that is my mission to free my brother.   If I could only find the guy named Puck. Like seriously, how was I going to find a guy by his first name only, but at least it was an unusual name.  I read the time on my Apple phone and started getting ready for bed.  I pulled on my wonder woman pj's, lay down and nod off into sweet abyss.

I munched on a bagel with plain cream cheese, as I walked down Main Street to reach the high school, which I was attending mainly because I got a tip that a Puck used to live here.  I finished my bagel and brushed my hands off on my faded blue jeans. As I approached the main door, a dark figure  leaned against the wall.  I caught a whiff of his scent, Scott McCall.  I made a face, veered to the side entrance, and sneaked in that way.  I navigated the halls to my locker and spun my combination.  I began pulling out my advanced collage level books out. A tan hand snaked out and snatched my trig book.  I started to snap at him, but stopped when I saw who it was. 

"So that is why I never see you in my classes," Scott teased, "You're a smart kid."

"Maybe," I mumbled, trying to take it back. 

He lifted out of my reach, which was easy since he was like 6'5, reading the cover out loud, "Advanced trig college level." He whistled, as handed the book back to my outstretched hand.  "You can keep that," he made that face you get when you want nothing to do with it. 

I chuckled, "What, the athlete doesn't like math?"

He coughed, "I pass it enough to stay on the boxing team."

"Well, I have to go," I fled his presence, before he could say another word.

(Scott)

Adrian and I gaped at her retreating figure, as I wondered what I said. 

"What just happened?" Adrian shook his head of black hair in confusion.  I shrugged, and we walked to our first class.  

I strolled down the paved road that my ranch style house sat on, when a yelp echoed out of the woods near our house. I pause, another yelp, and I traipsed through the woods.  I finally came across the culprits. The football team, with their commander, the star quarterback, Bryan, leading them in knocking around the girl on the ground, who was curled in a tight ball.  Bryan moved in for another kick to her rib cage.  My eyes heated as I lunged forward, hitting him squarely in the chest, and he flew straight into a large oak with a crack.  I drew myself up as I stood over the girl protectively.  He stood up and brushed himself off.  He moved in, his cronies followed.  "You really think you can take me?" I snickered, they froze at the cold edge in my voice.  Bryan's eyes followed the length of my arms to my fists, which were hard with so many fights, as they curled into fists. "A National World Champion boxer and mixed martial arts."