Summerford

The Personal Escort

Hannah

            I made my way down the corridor, examining my timetable; in half an hour I had my first photography lesson. Thank God I’d packed my camera. I exited the building - which I’d discovered was the English department - with the rest of my Form. I looked around, now having half an hour to kill. In front of me, across the pavement, was a picnic bench, so I stepped out to make my way over.    

            WHAM

            I felt all sense of gravity leave me as something solid, which was travelling at a speed, crashed into me. It started pulling me down, and I clung for something to grasp as the ground approached. I braced myself for the sharp impact the concrete would bring, but It never came. Instead I landed on something that cushioned my fall and I heard the breathe rush out of his lungs. I sharply rolled over onto the ground, bashing my elbow as I did, when I heard a sickening crunch.

            “Oh my God, are you okay?”

            My eyes fluttered open to meet a face that was less than a foot away from mine. His green eyes were surrounded by thick rimmed, black, square glasses; his brown hair falling in front of them.

            “Are you hurt?” he persisted, frantically waving a hand inches away from my eyes. I pushed myself back, sitting up in the process, so we had some reasonable distance between us.

            “I’m fine,” I spluttered, slightly out of breathe. I had broken my arm once before in my life – falling off a swing. The pain was very distinctive, and I’d know if any of my bones were broken again.

“But I heard a crack,” he continued, hysterically sweeping my body with his eyes as if he could see the bones beneath my skin.

“I...I thought that was you,” I faltered as the boys brow furrowed, he was shaking his head. It took a moment for realisation to hit me.

“No,” I breathed as I swung my bag around.

“What? I knew you must of broken something...” but his voice disappeared as I clawed my bag open. There, in the middle of the bag, lay a dead soldier – his body parts cracked and smashed. I pulled out the deceased Canon to inspect the damage further.

“Ahh man,” the boy’s voice finally returned to my ears.

The lens was completely smashed , and so was the flash. Various pieces of the cameras body had cracked, some even splitting off.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured as I stared at the remnants of my camera. “I’ll buy you a new one,” he continued. “It might take me a while, but I’ll... I’ll...”

“It’s fine,” I cut him off. I could afford another one in a heartbeat, It wasn’t the price that effected my emotions now.

“Have you got photography today?” he asked in a subdued tone, which I answered simply with a nod. I ran my fingers across the camera, soothing the cracks as if they would magically heal at my touch.

“Here, the boy suddenly shoved a camera into my arms, leaving me grasping a camera in each hand. “I’ll say mine smashed.” I looked at the tatty Nikon that belonged to him – my dad had owned one of these when I was younger. Only then did I realise we were still sat on the ground. I scrambled up, both cameras clutched to my chest.

“Look, I have others at home. Its fine,” I said firmly, extending the camera out to him. However he did not take it, instead, he grabbed his skateboard and bag as he clambered up.

“Just for today then,” he said  swiftly while he backed away from me.

I began to protest but he interrupted me, “I’ve got to go get my timetable,” and then he ran off into the English department, leaving me with my arm hanging limp.

I stood for a moment deliberating on what just happened. Only when a sharp pain burst up my left elbow did my thoughts return to the present. I shoved both cameras into my bag and made my way over to the picnic bench. Examining my elbow I discovered a large graze. It started at the point of the elbow, then continued up my arm, towards my hand, for about 10 cm. My left hand was also grazed and slightly cut, but other than that, the rest of me seemed fine. I dove into my bag once again to produce a packet of tissues, which I used to carefully clear some of the blood from my scrape.

After several moments of nursing my wounds, I distantly heard a voice. He was explaining that they had arrived at the English block. This was received to a gabble of laughter and shrieks. I didn’t lift my head to see who was causing the commotion, however.

“I left you under an hour ago, unharmed. Maybe a school environment isn’t for you,” my breath caught in my throat as the chuckle that was quickly becoming familiar to me met my ears. I snapped my eyes up to meet the same confident smile.

“What happened,” he asked, his brow raised in query.

“Err.. oh..skateboarders,” I managed to cough up.

“Skateboarders? I didn’t realise we had a problem with that.”

“He came out of nowhere,” I mumbled, keeping my eyes on my elbow.

“You hurt anywhere else?”

“Just my dignity,” I answered before I could stop myself, however he found it humorous, laughing louder than I had heard him.

“When’s your first lesson then?”

“Shit!” I cried as I jumped up, scrambling for my timetable and map.

“Waow, calm down,” he said, taking the papers from my hands. “You’ve still got 10 minutes. Come on, I’ll show you where it is. Don’t want any more skateboard incidents,” he joked while handing back the pieces of paper. “So, I should ask you your name before I start being your personal escort,” he teased.

“Err, it’s Hannah. And you don’t have to if you don’t want to,” I said whilst attempting to hide the blush that was almost certainly prominent.

“Nah, it’s fine. You’re much better than the air heads I had before. I’m Flynn by the way.” We came out onto the main field. “We’ve got to go to the other side of the campus, you see?” he pointed to the very west side of the campus where the art and design buildings stood on their own.

“Are you sure you wanna show me?”

“It’s fine, come on,” his pace increased as we started to cross the field. We encountered many other students – 6th formers and school kids - that were keen to interact with Flynn; saying hi, stopping to flirt or asking how his holidays were.

“Enjoying the baby sitting Flynn?” one broad guy taunted once he’d pounced on Flynn’s back. I hesitated for a moment, whilst Flynn struggled to throw the boy off, but decided to continue towards the group of buildings Flynn had pointed out. However to my surprise, he soon caught up with me.

“Sorry about that,” he puffed, while falling back into step with me.

“You know a lot of people,” I stated. Flynn didn’t verbally reply but I felt his casual shrug.

“You have many friends?” he asked.

“Oh yeah, me and all my other homeschooling buddies get together every weekend,” I said sarcastically before I could stop myself. The students were starting to thin as we got closer to the Design department.

“Don’t worry,” Flynn reassured lazily. “By next week you’ll know just as many people as I do.” It was my turn to laugh as we approached the buildings. “Photography’s around the back, lets walk round instead of going through,” he suggested as we veered to the right. I peered into the rooms as we strolled past. My eyes met different design rooms; a workshop, a room filled with sewing machines and a graphics room which was already full with some of the younger students still having to wear uniform.

“Here we are,” Flynn nodded towards a smaller, one story building that was slightly detached from the cluster of buildings. “This is you.”

“Thanks,” I replied awkwardly, “again.”

“See you around,” he said as he began to turn back, “Oh and stay away from any skateboarders.” He chuckled, and I joined in.

“Don’t worry, I intend to.”