Protected

Apology

I was half expecting the teachers to throw the work back at me and fail me and make me repeat senior year, but they didn't. They took it and said thank you. A few asked me how my head felt. Oh, yeah, I was supposed to have a concussion. I told them my head felt fine, and class went as it always did. Lucas kissed me goodbye after history, and we went down separate hallways.

Luckily, all Smackle did when she saw Lucas and I was glare at us. I could feel her eyes on me in Language Arts... and History... and Art. And Science. It was like they were burning a hole in my skull. But, I mean, was it really my fault? It wasn't my fault Lucas Morphed to me, and he said he was going to end it anyway. Still, I felt bad. I knew I would be just as pissed off and hurt if that happened to me.

After science class, I ran after Smackle, who had bolted out of the door. 

"Smackle!" I cried, "Smackle!"

She turned heel on me, "What do you want?" she snarled.

"Look, Smackle, I'm really sorry. I know you must be really upset right now-"

"You don't know anything," she said, glaring at me. 

If looks could kill.

"I do know that if I was in your situation, I would be really pissed off at the girl that did what I did to you. I've considered hating you as a viable option, but I really can't. I totally deserved that you called me a slut. I really did. And I don't expect you to forgive me, but at least accept my apology, because I'm giving it to you. On a fancy silver platter. With one of those stupid lacey napkin things," I said.

She still glared at me, like she was trying to decide something.

"Apology accepted. But I'm not forgiving you. Ever," she growled. And with that, she stormed off down the hallway. I was too exhausted to think anything but I love her boots, as she stormed away from me. 

I slid down the wall with my back pressed against the lockers and put my head in my hands. 

Just then, I felt someone take my hand and pull me gently up. Lucas.

"What's wrong?" he asked, hugging me to his chest.

I shook my head, "I really hurt someone, and I tried to make it right, but they still hate me. Absolute failure," I said.

He kissed me on the cheek, 'Whoever it is, I'm sure they'll come around."

I nodded halfheartedly, but I was sure they wouldn't.

He held my hand and we walked down the hallway towards the lunch room.

"How was art?" he asked.

"Good. We had to pain still lives, and the teacher put mine on the board as an example," I said, feeling more cheerful at the memory. At least I had one thing I was good at.

"Of course they did. Your art is amazing," Lucas said, "By the way, what's your favorite color?" 

I looked up at him, "Blue. Why?" I asked.

"No reason," he said. I rolled my eyes and leaned my head against his shoulder. I saw Smackle glaring at us from down the hallway, and I jerked my head up again.

Great.

I have a conscience.