Okay, I'm going to try this again very carefully.
Six, now pass ten once, and finally thirty-five. I grip the locker handle to pull it open, but it doesn't budge. "Dammit!" I hit it angrily.
"Try headbutting it!" I hear a voice call out. I turn to see who it was and am met with a thick-spectacled eighth grader. He stands with three other boys, one who hits him on the shoulder and reprimands him and another I recognize as Bill from Friday.
"You wanna give it a shot?" I question the boy who shouted at me. He walks up confidently. I cross my arms. Obviously, this Hawaiian shirt wearing kid didn't honestly think he could get my locker open. With a swipe of a plastic bookmark and two pounds on the top of the door, the metal cabinet swings open.
I stand corrected.
"Thanks!" I say, genuinely grateful. "Don't thank him yet," The boy who hit him on the shoulder remarks. "Idiot tried that with my locker and left a dent and a bill for my parents." I laugh and retrieve my books. The curly haired middle schooler, clearly still filled with resentment, glares at the spectacled boy.
"Guys, t-this is Lorraine," Bill, who had been quiet until now, introduces me. "The o-one I told you a-about."
"You didn't tell us she was an upperclassman," The boy who opened my locker whispers. "Richie Tozier, at your service." I arch an eyebrow but shake his hand with a laugh. "I'm Stan," The curly haired boy says, shaking my hand. "That's Eddie. He won't shake your hand unless you've Purelled." Eddie gives me a face of greeting, before turning to his left in alert.
"You guys, Bowers' at nine o'clock," He says quickly. Richie turns to me and gives me the bookmark. "See ya, Lorraine." With that, they shuffle in the opposite direction of Henry and his friends. I inspect the bookmark. It's a holographic design of a crashing wave.
With a small smile, I slide it in my bag and walk to my first period.
-
I sit in my regular spot in Mr. Meriwether's class, but Belch doesn't. Instead, he sits next to me, and we ramble about whatever comes to mind.
"I prefer my sandwiches with Miracle Whip, but mayonnaise is good too."
"Is there a difference?"
"Are you kidding?"
"Mister Huggins and Miss Finley," Mr. Meriwether's voice booms over our conversation. "Would you like to share with the class what is so important?"
Belch faces forward. "Sir, would you say mayonnaise and Miracle Whip are the same thing?" I love how much it unsettled him. "No sir it's not, 'cause Miracle Whip has fewer calories," I state to Meriwether. Scattered laughs fill the room.
"So it's just diet mayonnaise?"
"Belch, that's not a thing."
"Both of you get out of my classroom, and don't come back until you are ready to focus on To Kill A Mockingbird." Mr. Meriwether declares, pointing to the door. I sheepishly gather my things and follow Belch out of the classroom. We lean against the wall outside the classroom door. "I never thanked you for driving me around Friday. I know it was probably the last thing you wanted to do at that hour. So, thanks." I say, letting my backpack fall to the floor.
He smiles and crosses his arms. "No big deal, it was important to Henry," Belch adjusted the back of his hat. "Plus, if I didn't, he would've just taken Amy." This catches my attention.
Amy? I didn't know any Amy. Did Henry? Who was she?
"Who's Amy?" I ask Belch, ready to hear she's some ex or maybe even a girlfriend.
"Amy's my car." He replies, realizing he didn't clear it up. I sigh gently, nodding. "Right, of course." My God. Did I really almost lose it over that?
Jesus, Lorraine, get it together.
-
"So the teacher calls on me and it's just dead silent, like, I don't know the answer," Greta's back to completely ignoring me and it's like Friday never happened.
I can't lie, honestly, I didn't expect anything else.
So I eat and drown her out like I always did, working on my homework for Ms. Allen's class. "Hold on, I'll be right back," Charlie says before walking off. I feel a gaze on me and turn to Greta. "What?"
Greta sneers and does her best to stay hushed. "Don't 'what' me. You wanna tell me why Henry Bowers has been eyeing you for at least ten minutes now?" Yeah right. "Oh please," I mutter, not looking up from my work. "He doesn't even eat in here."
"Exactly, so what the hell makes you so special that he came back?" I look at her, confused. "What the hell-" She points to my right. I see the oh so familiar glare that I've never seen him without. When he sees me staring back, he makes no move to look away. Only staring back, looking right into my eyes.
I look away first, cursing myself. Charlie comes back around, a soda in her hand. She sees Henry staring and says as she passes him, "Take a picture freak, it'll last longer." Then Patrick stretches one of his skinny legs out, at Henry's command, causing my sister to trip and spill her soda all over our table. The cafeteria is silent.
I yelp, quickly moving my stuff before the fizzy brown drink can touch it. "Watch where you're going." Henry mutters. Greta's shock turns to anger when he says this. I look at Charlie, who is livid. She turns to Henry, who's giving a dangerous smirk, daring her to come at him.
I jump from my seat as she runs at him. I put my self in front of her, but not before she takes a swing, knocking him right in the face. I push her back, holding her shoulders as makes wild grabs for Henry.
"COME HERE YOU STUPID FUCKING HICK!" She screams as he shouts obscenities right back, dying to get a hit of his own in. She pushes me, but I held her tight, enduring the merciless grip she has on my hair. A million different scenarios flash in my mind as a teacher runs up, pulling Charlie back by her elbows. My heart pounds as he drags her out kicking and screaming. I turn to Henry, who despite calming to just above heated, is still being held back by Belch who gives me an apologetic look.
Henry pushes the boy's hands off before stomping up to me and getting so close to my face, I can smell the Juicy Fruit on his breath. "You better keep that stupid bitch away from me, y'hear?!" I stare into his rage-filled eyes, inspecting the cut on his cheekbone from my sister's large pink Lucite ring. He grabs my arms, shaking me. "I said do you fucking understand?!"
I quickly nod. "Yeah, yeah, I get it," I say. He lets me go and storms out with the boys in tow, pushing me so I have to grab the table to keep from toppling over. Greta gives me quick glance before grabbing her backpack and walking out in a hurry. I do the same, ignoring the still shocked looks of my peers.
-
"Fighting, Charlotte? What the hell were you thinking?" My dad demands, white-knuckling the steering wheel. Though Charlie wasn't in too much trouble, she was asked to leave for the rest of the day.
No one could prove Henry was responsible for Patrick tripping her, but they could prove she swung first.
Everyone saw what happened, but no one in their right mind would testify against Henry. Though I did, they assumed I was taking her side because I was her sister and ruled me out as a reliable source. Greta refused to talk at all, not wanting to sell out her idol but also not wanting to be terrorized by Henry.
But Henry did end up with a day of detention because at the end of the day, who would they believe? The school's resident hell raiser or the new girl no one would suspect of something like this?
"It was that stupid Bowers kid. His asshole friends and he thought it would be hilarious to trip me!"
My father on the other hand, who knows exactly what Charlie's capable of, refuses to believe the son of his new best friend, "quite the character", is to blame.
"I was just defending Lorraine, he was staring at her like a total creep!" But we both know that when she told Henry off, it was to be vile, not to defend me.
"Oh, Lorraine," My dad drops the topic of Charlie and turns to me with a teasing smirk. "Is there a new man in your life?" I roll my eyes.
"I don't even know right now."
