Homeroom

3: Not You Again

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I don't know exactly where to go, and I really don't feel like locking myself in a bathroom stall, so instead, I decide to walk around the halls to clear my head. No principals or administration workers ever check for hall passes, so I don't think I'll face any issues wandering around for the next 45 minutes.

To be honest, I hate Luke so much. I can't stand that stupid little grin he always wears and that disgusting lip ring! Does he think that he's punk now because he has that stupid piercing, rides a skateboard, and sings in a band?

I'm pretty sure it's just a rumor that he's in a band, but it makes all the girls in school crazy about him. Even Shay likes him a bit, too, even though she won't admit it. I can see it in the overly fake smile that spreads across her face whenever he says something to her, even when it's an insult.

I roll my eyes at the thought of the messed-up situation. The whole thing giving me a headache. I round another corner and literally run right into the chest of a really tall guy wearing an AC/DC t-shirt. His hands fall onto my shoulders at the sudden impact.

"Hey! Watch where you're going," I angrily yell at the wavy-haired guy. Of course, I managed to run directly into Aaron of all people.

I shake him off me and shoulder him as I march down the hallway.

I hear footsteps following me, and suddenly, Aaron is walking beside me. I groan; his presence is annoyingly restricting.

I whip my head to face him, glaring into his hazel eyes. "What do you want?" I angrily spit.

"It's Luke, isn't it?" he guesses, shaking his head. "Look, I'm really sorry about him—"

"Sorry? Why are you sorry?" I ask him in disbelief. "This has nothing to do with you."

"Yeah, I guess," he half-confirms, biting his bottom lip nervously. "I just want to help, that's all."

I sigh. Well, luckily he's the only person who doesn't know anything about my life or my mom. Maybe he just thinks that Luke bullies me, and that's what's bothering me.

I look back at him, debating whether I can put my trust into him. "You can start by leaving me alone."

"What? Why?" he fumbles. "Was it something I did?"

I roll my eyes. Why does he keep taking all the blame for stuff he didn't do? "No, you didn't do anything. I just don't want to talk about it ," I admit. 

In all honesty, I don't really have a reason to be mad at him. I just don't understand why this stranger is acting so clingy towards me. I just want to be left alone.

There's an awkward silence between us, and we both are staring at each other. "Will you at least show me where the bathrooms are? I think I got a little lost."

His cheeks become pink in embarrassment, and as much as I'd hate to admit it, he is sort of cute when he's not talking. But as soon as that thought enters the sane side of my brain, it fizzles into nothing.

"Okay, well, just follow me."

I walk with Aaron down the white hallways that are lined with wooden classroom doors. Some of the art students painted over the walls to give our school color, but they didn't reach the math wing yet. I guess that's gonna be their project this year or something.

We reach the bathrooms fairly quickly. After all, they're only at the end of the hall. "Thanks," Ashton says, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

"Yeah, no problem."

More silence. Why isn't this kid going to go pee? How can he hold it for this long, anyway?

"You don't know your way back to class, do you?" I realize.

He awkwardly chuckles, "Nope."

"I'll wait for you, just go," I reply, sitting in the middle of the empty hallway.

"Okay, well, I'll be back." He points to the men's room and shuffles away from me awkwardly.

It didn't take long for me to become bored. Instead of staring at a blank wall, I pull out my phone and check Twitter to check and see if Harry Styles followed me yet. As you probably already guessed, that didn't happen. So instead, I watch videos of him prancing around the stage. I hunch over my phone and laugh at a cute gif of Harry eating a banana. Gosh, can that man be any more perfect?

"Is that Harry Styles?"

I jump out of my skin, almost peeing in my own pants. My phone falls out of my hands and clatters to the ground right in front of me. Aaron towers over me, cocking his head to get a better look at my phone. I quickly snatch it away from his gaze and shove it in my back pocket.

"That was Harry Styles," he confirms to himself, chuckling a bit.

"No," I blurt, "that was a picture of biscuits baking in the oven."

Aaron laughs in response, much harder than I thought he would.

I try my best to keep my cheeks from reddening as I stand back up. Man, I really hope he keeps this between me and him. If not, then I'm in trouble. It seems that karma just had to kick in, and now I just got caught by the one kid who might just run to Luke with this valuable information.

Now seems like the perfect time to change the subject. "So what class did you come from again? We should probably go back—"

He ignores my question, "I would have never guess that you, of all people, would have a crush on Harry Styles."

"I do not have a crush on him," I lie, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Riiiiight," he drags out, still chuckling to himself.

I really want to slap the stupid smirk off of his face, but I force myself to calm down. Violence isn't going to help this situation much. So instead, I roll my eyes at him. "Are you ready to go or what?"

"Yes, ma'am. Lead the way, Mrs. Styles," he salutes me.

I punch him in the arm as hard as I can, and he lets out a surprised "ow."

"Alright, alright. No more jokes," he sighs in defeat, rubbing his arm. "I should start calling you Iron Fist."

"Please do, I triple-dog-dare you," I reply. "Now, what class were you just in?"

"History."

I silently lead him down the hallway, up the stairs, and down a couple more halls before reaching the history wing. The only audible sounds are Aaron's clunky footsteps behind me.

"Okay, do you know where you are now?" I ask.

"Yeah. Thank you," he earnestly replies, his murky brown eyes twinkling under the florescent lights.

"Um, sure."

More silence.

"Okay, see you around, I guess," I say, hoping to end this weird run-in once and for all.

"I'm Aaron by the way," he quips, smiling a bit.

"Okay, bye Aaron," I say, confused. He already introduced himself during homeroom, so I'm not sure why he feels the need to remind me of his name.

"Wait! You're supposed to tell me your name too!" he yells, calling me back.

I stop walking and turn back around, now a good distance away from him. I smirk evilly, "The name is Iron Fist, remember?"

I turn back around and push my backpack strap up farther on my shoulder, strutting away from him.

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