Perfection (Red Wrists 1 REWRITTEN EDITION)

Part Nine

We stopped in front of a lower-grade classroom that I haven't been in for a few years, the desks here pushed together into groups of squares, two students side by side as they faced another pair of two students. The teacher looked less than thrilled to see so many older students in her class, but she greeted me with a smile nonetheless.

I smiled back, giving her a shy wave as I went to find an empty seat in the classroom. The desks, thank the heavens, had pull-away chairs that weren't attached to the desks themselves. There was one seat left that wasn't taken and that didn't have someone else's books or bags at them. Without a second thought, I went over and sat in the seat, looking to the person at my right and quickly greeting them. I went clockwise around the table, ending with the person right in front of me. It was Tim. He had his arms crossed on his desk, staring down at them, refusing to look at me. He still seemed pissed off from earlier. I skipped him, resting my hands on the desk's edge and looking up at the teacher.

Days went by, and Tim didn't say a word to me.

One week.

Two week.

Three weeks.

Almost a month, and still Tim refused to say anything to me. Even after we got the old classroom back, a new teacher ready to go, the wounds on my neck and hand fully healed with nothing but dull scars remaining, he still said nothing. It was beginning to get on my nerves. Someone heard that he liked me, and other kids knew about it. Harper and Pax didn't share their sources, in the few conversations I had with them.

And Tim was being as stubborn as a mule, going out of his way to avoid looking at or being near me. He switched his seat to one as far away from me as he could. And over the more recent few days, he seemed to be getting impatient with something. He kept checking his phone, keeping his eyes peeled on other students, getting more and more annoyed with each passing day.

And today, I was done with being ignored by him. I tailed him for a while, awaiting the end of the school day before stomping up to him. I got to a yard or two away from him when he looked up at me. In the first few milliseconds, he looked glad to see me. It didn't take long for him to suppress that look of joy, however. I growled under my breath, stomping my foot on the ground as I shouted, "Tim!"

"Emma-May?" came a reply from behind me. I turned around to see a guy behind me, dark brown hair and stunning oak brown eyes. "Emma-May is that you?"

I looked this man up and down, a sudden panic rising in my chest. The guy saw this, and began to explain, "It's me, don't you remember me?"

When he realized I did not in fact remembered him, he continued, "It's me, Timothy. From kindergarten?" A smile grew on his face. He seemed ecstatic to see me, laughing out loud as he swooped me into a tight hug. "Oh, Emma!" he exclaimed. "It's been absolutely forever! How have you been? "

After how it felt when I thought Tim was the Timothy I was looking for, the feeling I felt when this man confessed to being Timothy failed in comparison. I struggled out of his grip, giving him a shy smile as he finally put me down on the ground. I felt the eyes of everyone around me burning into the back of my skull. It made my cheeks turn red. "Oh goodness," Timothy laughed, "we really need to do some catching up!" Before I could reply, he grabbed me by the hand and dragged me away from the crowd.

My eyes caught Tim's as I was dragged away, and his face looked absolutely pissed off as he watched me get driven off by Timothy. I let the dragging go on for a while before yanking my hand away. At that point, we were far enough away from other people. "I'm so sorry," Timothy said, grabbing both of my hands and holding them close to his chest. "Emma, you're in danger."

This caught me off guard. "I'm sorry, what?" I asked him, clearly confused.

"You're in danger," he repeated. "My team and I are under suspicion that you are being stalked by a violent gang in the area." My mind refused to wrap around what I was hearing. Team? "I am sorry for playing with your emotions like this. We've been on you for a few months now. We didn't consider you in any danger until-"

"Team? Wait, you're not Timothy are you?" I felt my eyes brim with tears.

The man seemed out of it for a while, holding a finger to his ear as he said, "Now? Sir, I can't. It's broad daylight, and-... Yes I know sir, but-... Are you sure?" I watched closely, hugging myself tightly. The weather was a bit warmer today, but the chill that went down my spine made everything feel cold. "I can't," he continued, beginning to look scared. "Sir you can't be serious! Sir, I-... Sir? Sir!"

Looking defeated, the man sunk down to the ground, coming to a rest on his knees as he sat on his feet. "Miss Emma-May, I am so sorry."

I looked him up and down, a tight feeling of fear forming in my throat. "Who are you," I asked, "and how do you know my name? Why were you pretending to be Tim?"

The man stood again, his hands shaking more than when he fell. "I have to do this," he whispered. "I don't want to-...." He reached behind his back, bringing his hand back in front of him to reveal a knife. "Emma please understand."

He took a step closer to me, looking me dead in the eyes as he whispered, "This is Mercy, Emma-May. We're nicer than them, we'll make it fast. We don't want to hurt you."

I gasped and backed away, my hands shaking. Two attacks with people trying to kill me. And the man, he didn't hesitate as he tackled me to the ground, pinning the knife against the center of my forehead. "If we don't kill you," the man said, his tears falling onto my shirt with each shaking breath, "they will. And they won't be so quick about it."