'Till Death Do We Part

Lunchtime

Tick tock...
Tick tock...
Tick tock...
I'm mesmerized by the hands of the clock as they count the seconds, then minutes, but the more I stare, the slower time seems to go by. In every class, I tune out boring lecture after boring lecture and my teacher's attempts to get me to participate in class prove to be futile. I couldn't care less about anything they have to say; I'm only here so I don't go to court, they can force me to be present, but they can't force me to care, or to work. At each bell ring after the 45 minute period, I tiredly stumble out into the hallway, peeking over the multitude of heads flooding the building in every direction in a failed attempt to scope out Ron and my friends, and even Ryan. I don't know why, but I have this strong urge to be around him, however, I push any lingering thoughts of Ryan to the back of my mind when I lumber through the open double doors of the school cafeteria.

The aroma of mystery meat and French fries wafts through the room and punctures my nostrils, causing me to nearly double over and heave at the wretched scent, but I contain myself. I slump over in an empty seat at a long rectangular table, the farthest away from the other students, who chatter away in distinguishable groups.
Of course, I will not be chowing down on the lunch lady's dishes, nor a sandwich from a brown paper bag. Rather, I will be sitting and staring at the white wall while trying to tune out the sloshing of drinks and painfully loud crunching of chips.
Usually, I would be sound asleep at this time after taking a long puff of weed hours prior. I would be next to Ron, our chests rising and falling in unison until he would roughly grasp my shoulder and shake me awake and pull me up off of the dusty wooden floor of the hidden shack. He would sensually whisper in my ear and lift me in his arms, place me in the back seat of his car and me, weak and stoned, would say nothing as he climbs on top of me.

Yet here I am, all alone and left to space out. But, when I catch a glimpse of a figure directly next to me, I realize I am no longer alone. Slightly annoyed at the uninvited presence of another human being, I turn in my seat to see Ryan sitting there, drawing. I draw in a sharp breath and my cheeks turn a deep shade of rose. He was drawing something in his leather bound sketchbook, and closed it lightly when he noticed me staring at him.
"Hey, Emily." The words fell so casually out of his mouth.
"Hey, Ryan." I reply with a sheepish grin.
Ryan smiles back, his perfectly straight, white teeth glistening in the overhead light.
"Sorry," He chuckles, shaking his head. "I seem like a total creep sitting right next to you. I just thought you were really cool, and I don't have any friends here yet."

I laugh with him, "Don't worry, you're fine. I'm a complete loner right now too because the only few friends I have aren't allowed to even be around me."

Ryan raises his dark eyebrows while locking his eyes on me in a curious manner. "Why?"

I let his question linger in air for a moment, before I explain to him the story of getting caught smoking weed in the woods behind our school, going to the cops, and every detail in between. When I finish my story, Ryan's expression is one of both amusement and bewilderment.
"Damn. What makes you want to rebel so much?" He asks.
I shrug, before answering. "I don't really know, I just don't give a fuck about anything and I can get away with most things. I stopped caring a long time ago. But, the reason I stopped caring in the first place is a whole other story."

"Well, we have some time." Ryan urges me to explain even more, and with that charming smile, I just can't refuse.

"I was only 2 years old when my father was arrested for homicide. A 32 year old male was found dead in an alleyway in the poverty stricken part of town, a bullet straight in the forehead. The neighbors heard the gun shot and called 911 immediately, and he was arrested while attempting to flee the scene a few minutes later. The trial was short, he confessed right away and showed no remorse for his wrongful doings, and so he was sentenced to life in prison. I grew up without a father, and had no recollections of him ever being in my life because I was so young when he was around. My mother kept this information from me for years, until I turned 13. She showed me the scars she still has that he had given her throughout many fights. He would abuse her, physically and emotionally. Even though I didn't ever want to cross paths with my dad, it was still hard going through childhood without a father figure. It was when I was 14 when I really started to misbehave. We're poor, we've always been. We live in a cramped, dingy apartment and my mom works 3 jobs just to pay the bills and get food on the table for us. I was angry, and didn't want to feel anything so I turned numb and stopped trying at anything. I didn't see a point I guess. And now here I am, still numb and uncaring."

I sigh sadly, and flinch a little when I feel Ryan's hand gingerly placed over mine. I stare down at our hands, as he caresses my fingers and I remain frozen. We both look up, and our eyes meet for a second before the bell rings, signaling the end of the lunch period. I jump up and throw my backpack over my shoulder, and start to walk past Ryan before he grasps my arm. "What's your next class? Maybe we can walk together." He asks.

For the first time, an image of Ron flashes in my mind while Ryan touches me. And for the first time, I feel as though maybe I shouldn't be with Ron. In my heart, I truly know that I don't want him anymore, and I can't turn Ryan down because of someone I don't really love.
I smile. "Mrs. Lola."
"I've got Mrs. Kingsley next."
"She's just across the hall from Mrs. Lola. Let's go."

Ryan and I weave through the crowded hallway and before we go our separate ways to our respected classes, Ryan speaks up.
"Hey Emily, I was wondering if you wanted to hang out after school today." He looks up at me with those sparkling oceanic eyes and a genuinely kind smile of pearly whites.
"I would love to," I say, "I just can't today because an officer has to escort me directly home after the last bell rings."
"Well how about this weekend?Saturday afternoon?We can meet at the skate park." He offers.
I return his smile, and nod before answering, "Yeah, that sounds great."
For a second, our eyes meet and linger in contact. The familiar ringing of the bell interrupts us however, and I curse under my breath for being late as I wave goodbye to Ryan and head to my next period class.