Homeroom

8: Take A Chill Pill

I walk into school the next day, predicting that Luke will be blocking my locker again. Once I turn down the corner and head down the hall, I realize that my suspicions were correct.

I weave a path to my locker, bypassing a slow-moving pack of freshman boys. I stop right in front of Luke once I reach my destination, crossing my arms over my chest. "Can you please move?"

He leans his back against the cool, metal surface, his arms crossing along his chest and a hard glare forming on his face. His menacing blue eyes lock with mine. "No."

"Seriously? Do you really want me to push you because I—"

"Lukey!" an annoying high-pitched voice interrupts as I get shoved out of the way.

I stumble to my left, ramming right into the back of a tall boy with freaky green hair. "Oh, sorry," I apologize once he turns around.

"It's fine," he coolly replies as he goes back to talking to a redhead girl who's glaring at me.

Geez, the girls around here are more territorial than ever. Seems like everyone forgot to take their chill pill today. I look away from the weird dude with the weird hair and focus on the situation playing out right in front of me. It didn't take long for Luke and his girl to lose themselves in a hot and heavy make-out session.

Luckily, they shifted slightly away from my locker, leaving me just enough room to grab a few things for class. I fumble with the combination lock and quickly empty out my backpack, tossing some heavy textbooks onto the shelf before pulling out some notebooks and my calculator. Right as I reach in to grab a pencil from my magnetic cup holder, the blonde girl shoves Luke right into my locker door, smashing my right hand in the process as she continues to kiss him.

I yelp in pain, but the both of them refuse to move. They continue to nail my hand between the gritty pieces of metal, and my eyes start watering. 

"Ow!" I yell, shoving both of them out of the way.

I yank my hand out from my locker and slide to the ground, gasping in pain. My vision becomes blurry with tears. My hand hurts so badly that it feels like someone sawed it off and sewed it on backwards.

The late bell rings, and students scatter, including the two idiots who smooshed my hand. I force myself to shake it off while trying to suppress another sob. I bite down on my lip to distract myself from the pain, but that doesn't help at all. I look down at my hand to see my thumb bent in an unnatural position, and I almost puke; the sight is completely revolting.

"Callie, hey!" a voice belonging to Aaron yells.

I grit my teeth together and keep my head down, leaving my books scattered on the ground as I struggle to march to the nurse's office without confrontation. I hear loud footsteps run after me, and Aaron stands in front of my to block my path. 

"Move," I whisper, my voice faltering at the end. I don't dare to look up at him because I know I look like a mess right now, and I really don't need him to point it out.

"What's wrong? I though that— Oh my gosh, what happened to your hand?" he asks, picking up my right hand and examining it.

I ignore the spark that jetted throughout my body resulting from his warm touch, and instead, I flinch when he pokes at my thumb. "Ow!"

"Oh, sorry," he rushes, carefully letting my arm drop to my side, "Let's just go to the nurse's office. That looks disgusting. How in the world did you manage to do that, Iron Fist?"

I don't reply because the intense flashes of pain are starting to give me a giant headache, and I feel like I'm about to actually throw up this time.

I lamely shake my head and march on. Our arms brush a couple of time, sending that familiar, electrical spark pulsing through my body. Right now, I'm pretty sure that's the least of my worries.

* * * * *

"Yeah, you're not going to be able to do anything with your hand for a while," the school nurse confirms as she wraps my thumb and pointer finger with bandages and medical tape.

"But what about volleyball? Or even writing in school?" I ask, washing a tablet of Advil down with a swig of water.

"Like I said before, your hand needs to heal before performing any rigorous activity. That includes sports and writing."

I groan and remind myself not to blow up on the nurse. She has nothing to do with this, but I know very well who's responsible for my pain. I just can't believe that I have to pay the price for something that wasn't my fault. For goodness sake, I can't even finish out my last year of volleyball because Luke just had to damage my hand!

"Alright, go back to class and take that boy with you. His pacing is starting to get on my nerves," the older woman remarks.

I nod, looking behind my shoulder. Aaron paces on the glossy, tiled floor. The nurse gives me a bright, orange pass, and I snatch it from her pale hand. I mutter a thanks before leaving the room. Aaron's clunky footsteps trail behind my light ones as we walk down the empty halls.

"I guess it would be pointless for me to show up to your games if you can't even play," he sighs.

"Please don't remind me," I retort. I'm not ready to fully face the consequences of Luke's actions.

He nods and pushes a wisp of his hair out of his eyes. I rub my nose, trying to look busy as I scan the hallway and read the posters about Homecoming and other stuff on the walls as we walk down the hall.

Once I reach my locker again, I collect my books from the ground and toss them in my bag. I turn to Aaron, who's lazily leaning up against the rows of lockers with some of my textbooks in his hands. "I'm just about done with today. You wanna skip?" I ask him. 

"We probably shouldn't," he answers. "And if we did," he adds, "the cameras would catch us."

"You really think these cameras work? Do you see any red lights blinking?" I reply. "They haven't functioned for the past couple years now."

"How do you know that?" he asks, skeptical.

I grin. "I have my ways."

His hazel-green eyes search mine as if trying to figure out if I'm being honest or not. He squeezes his bottom lip between his pointer finger and thumb, deciding whether or not he wants to be a little adventurous today. "Alright, fine," he reluctantly agrees, "but I'm driving."

"...which is great for me because I only have a quarter tank of gas," I reply.

A goofy smile washes over his face as he shakes his head at my quirkiness. "I think your hands deserve a break for the rest of the day, anyways."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

[A/N] Sorry for the 6 day delay, but I had so much homework and it's only the second week of school!