The Sound of Silence (Previously I Know What You Did Last Summer)

Five|| In My Head

I never had much interest in Government and sitting in the classroom only added to the disliking, despite the subject not being to blame.

The last couple days hadn't been too bad; a great portion of which was spent going over class rules and the like. Even better, the seat beside me had remained vacant. The moment I heard the familiar sadistic laughter of Kevin Marshall, a sinking feeling weighed heavily in the pit of my stomach. Without scanning the room to check for another seat he may have more of a desire to take than the one to my left, I knew he'd be far too close for comfort in less than five minutes. Despite my mind processing this information, my emotions didn't grasp the matter of fact until he sat down.

"Is this seat taken?" he questioned, looking too comfortable to move if asked.

I could form the coherent answer in my head, but the second I opened my mouth, it suddenly died on my tongue, and I felt as if I'd spent the last two days trudging through the Sahara Desert. I quickly adverted my eyes, in fear that his would find mine.

"Dude, you're fine." a blond basketball player responded a few desks back. I recognized him but wasn't familiar enough with the jocks to know his name.

With Kevin close enough for his cold fingertips to brush my elbow, it wasn't exactly the first thought to come to mind.

My eyes fell on my desk, widening a fraction when I saw how much the trembling in my hands had worsened in the couple minutes since Kevin had lowered himself into the chair beside me. I tried to grab a hold of my notebook, but it slipped from my backpack and hit the tile between our desks. I reached for it, yanking my hand back when his shot into my line of sight. I clenched my shaking hands into fists on my lap, making a mental note to discard the contaminated notebook the moment his fingers touched the red cover.

He laughed and tossed the spiral notebook on my desk with a quiet "oops" and a crooked grin I'd once been so infatuated with I'd seen no flaws in it. I turned my back to him, touching my index and middle fingers to my lips to force the little I'd eaten back down.

Mr. Nicholson took the opportunity to stand and delve right into today's lesson. I tried to focus, but I could feel Kevin's eyes still burning holes into the side of my head. I sunk deep into my chair, hugging my arms around myself, eyes straight ahead on the middle aged, balding teacher. I could only guess he was feeling me out, trying to get a good reading on me. Or more importantly, whether I was going to speak up about what'd happened in May.

With him so close, my thoughts immediately shot to any way out of the room. The door to Mr. Nicholson's right had been shut, and if I ran out it, he'd be sure to contact the principal and guidance counselor. I had no desire to talk to either.

My heart started to hammer into my ribcage when I caught Kevin's eyes in my peripheral. He wasn't looking at me as if he were prompting me to say something, he was staring as if he had no clue who I was or what he'd done; it only made my hatred for the bastard beside me intensify.

"You did it to yourself." Mr. Nicholson said, and when I lifted my head up, I found he had stopped at my desk, one of his hands pressed against the corner of the hard wood, eyes on me.

"What'd you say?" I whispered, blinking in surprise.

He crouched so we were eye level, grasping the edge of the table with a worried expression. "Are you feeling alright, Miss Spencer? You're looking a little sick. Would you like to go see the nurse?"

If my anxiety wasn't in an even larger hurricane of emotions, I would have wanted to disappear with every pair of eyes in the room on me. But I was in such a desperate attempt to escape the presence of Kevin Marshall that I nodded.