Telekinetic Fugitive

~Chapter Two~

It'd been a few days since the "incident" and everyone was whispering and pointing at me. Anger and disgust took on their expressions, sneering and scowling as if I was nothing but a pest. I kept playing it off as my imaginative and tired mind playing tricks on me, so nothing to worry about, but it was just odd and it made me uneasy. There were some glared that I received from some people, puzzling me to no end for it wasn't something I would've been greeted to.

Upon meeting up with my friends, their conversation came to a halt and they either glared or gave me looks of discomfort. It seemed that my mere presence made them sick. Frowning, I questioned, "What's wrong?"

"Michael broke his leg in three places," answered Geneva Hathaway. Her parents named her after the city in Switzerland where she was born. That's a little fun fact about one of my friends if one wanted to know since it is quite an odd name for one to have. Wait, he broke his leg? "He won't be able to play in the county tournament thanks to you."

  Thanks to me? What? Why would she say that? To say I was confused was an understatement. How was it my fault that Michael broke his leg? The idiot wasn't watching where he was going and, guess what, I didn't give a damn about our school winning the basketball tournament anyways. "What the hell are you talking about? How is it my fault that he fell?"

Cody Jenkins scoffed and rolled his blue eyes, stabbing my chest with his finger. His anger was worse than anyone that I know, seeing as he was never the type to get angry easily. "Because people saw you push him." Why are you acting like this? Why would you say this?

I let out a bitter laugh and shook my head. I had a smile and it was the one that I have when I'm tired of people's bullshit. "Wow, you really think that? Well, at least I know what types of friends you all are. I never laid a hand on him and I hope this school loses that stupid tournament because frankly, I don't give a damn about it."

With a blink and a shake of my head, I push my reminiscing to the back of my mind. Why am I remembering that? It's a dumb and troublesome memory that should forever be buried in my subconscious and never see the light of day again. I don't see him until I face plant the floor. Rodney Maguire. Rodney is a tall, lanky senior with oily red hair and a hooked nose that was crooked from an old fight set on his pale skin. He may be pale but he has nothing on my type of paleness. Ugh, what does he want? He had stuck his foot out causing me to trip and spill all my stuff onto the floor. I sigh and just brush it off, not giving it another thought as I glare at the boy who steps in front of me as to block my path. A smug smile on that stupid face of his. "Well, if it isn't the freak?"

"Well, if it isn't the ignoramus?" I mock, signing my death warrant—oh wait, I already did that long time ago. Ah, the memories of basically that day. Fun times, fun times. No, I'm pretty sure there's something wrong with me. I mean, sometimes it feels like there's a demon in me who tries to get me in situations like these.

He glares daggers at me, but I can clearly see the gears in his head turning as he seems to be processing my words. Idiot. I smirk at him in a smug victory that I know isn't going to last long and quickly pick up my books. I walk off, but he grabs my shoulder, shoving me against the lockers. He tightly grips locks of my hair, pushing my head back and forcing me to look at him. Wow, so he's uglier up close too. Like, I'm trash, I know, but damn. "Listen, freak, you don't insult me."

I just grin like the cheeky little bastard that I am. I know, I know I'm an idiot for fanning the flames of his anger, but hey, it's fun. It's not like he's going to kill me. There isn't any worry. "Kind of hard not to especially when you give me the perfect opportunity. And really, it's dumb for you to say something like that because I can say whatever I feel like."