Jimmy
Class went by quietly. At the end of the lesson, the teacher had allowed students to get ready for lunch. Jimmy put his belongings away after writing down the night's homework.
Stevie slung her satchel over her shoulder and headed for the door. She seemed she was in a hurry to go somewhere, so Jimmy hurried to catch her.
"Hey Stevie," he called, "where are you off too in such a hurry?"
She paused and turned to look at him but didn't say a word, she only stared blankly at him.
"You're not gonna tell me are you?" his voice held defeat.
She tilted her head, signaling for him to follow.
Walking down the corridor, she took a sharp left and made the second right into the library.
"What are we doing in here?" Jimmy whispered. "The cafeteria's the other way."
She turned to him and put her finger to her lips in a shushing motion.
She walked to the very back and took a seat, patting to the one next to her. He sat and wondered why she didn't want to be seen anywhere else.
She pulled a brown paper bag out and began to munch on the food she brought. He thought her every move was majestic, angelic, hell even Queenly.
"Where are you from?" he asked.
She srugged.
"You don't know where you come from?"
She nodded.
"How does someone NOT know where they came from?"
She srugged again.
"Where do you live?"
She took a deep breath through her nose.
"A ways away from the school." her voice seemed artificial, almost robotic. Could she be an andriod spy? Hes heard about America having some of them. Conspiracy theories on the internet mostly.
"What school did you come from?"
"This is my first year in public school."
"So you were homeschooled?"
She shrugged.
His head begun to spin. She was frustrating yet intriguing to him. Who was she? Where does she come from And...
"Why do u cover your face up?"
She simply looked at him unamused.
"Do u have some sort of cultist tattoo that your parents dedicated you too when you were younger or something?"
She shook her head.
"Right. No cult tattoos. Got it." he paused. "Are there scars that you're ashamed of or something?"
No answer.
"Geez... Im sure they aren't that bad. I mean... Look at The Hound from game of Thrones. He had scars on his face and wasn't a completely bad person."
She slid the sleeve out from under her glove to reveal gray silicone. "I think im much worse to look at than Sandor Clegane."
"So what?"
YOU ARE READING
The New Girl
Teen FictionShe loves to explore abandoned buildings. Will his need to know her better cause him to get into trouble, well, more trouble than he already has a habit of doing?
