Flames And Blades

Chapter Five: Bye Bye Bye

The blindness had subsided now, and all I was in was severe pain along my back and head. The laughter, of course, turned into mere pointing and chuckling and then nothing at all, just like it used to be. I was able to stay rather well contained when it came to wanting to lash out and just ditch school entirely. Until the end of last period. When everything went to a new form of shit to me.

I was in English, of course, the only class in which I excel at. And as I was about to pack up, having no partner as no one here actually acknowledges me. I actually happen to be totally fine with this, being that my independent work is usually my best. When that inky purple cloud appears again. This time, its clouds are light and wispy; like a fog that just barely nipped at your ankles. Nonetheless, it startles me more than enough to drop my pen, along with half the stuff in my bag.

I busy myself with taking the time to pick it all up, attempting a very slim shot at the elegance that I'll most likely never get the hang of. Wich turns into me shoving it all in my bag and pretending to busy myself for the last five minutes when I am left to thank the nineties rom-com Gods for their sudden interception of my life.

The bell rings, letting us teen animals all free of the prison we were tied to. So I get up, overstuffed bag and all, and then, oh-so klutzily trip over air and fall. Being used to this, I'm already brushing myself off when I hit the ground, but I'm too embarrassed to acknowledge the fact that my stupid pen slides across the floor and towards the captain of the football team. Mr. Totem Pole Topper then proceeds to pick it up, and actually look at me. An action no other student at this school other than Trevor and a handful of those who knew me in pre-k has ever bothered to do on a normal day. This small, little fluke of an event turns my stomach cold. He stands up and heads toward me, pen and flirtatious smirk at the ready. If any of his clique find me and him actually socializing in the same vicinity together, his girlfriends (all seven of them, discluding one-night stands, yeah, I actually do listen to people when I'm being quiet, crazy phenomenon, isn't it?) are going to make a ninth pit in Hell just for me. More space for me to rule, but unnecessary to my daily living all in all. Mccocky makes his approach, the smirk alone making even my teacher, Mr. Levine, roll his eyes.

"Hey, Indi, can't leave you without a way for you to give me your number, now can I?"

Class. The only thing that comes to mind with this line, amongst other, more strongly worded sentences. Annoyed with the overly cocky attempt at a pick-up line and wondering how to handle him. Half thinking to yell 'I have a boyfriend' and sprint like almighty hell, the only thing stopping me is how much that has become a stereotype and how rude it would come off. So I search to see if Trevor is walking down this hall for a shortcut to my car, or an actual exit I can escape through until he finds his right mind back. Neither of which actually appear. Just a really boringly cramped portable. Did the constructors of these things ever think that people besides Bruce Wayne need sleek escape options too?

"Thanks for the pen, Jason, I do have to get outta here, for the sake of getting my car to the shop on time. See ya later man." I attempt to sidestep him to get through the door, cheering myself quite nicely for the quick excuse, one that would work quite well, given that the only thing I know about cars is how to drive them when he matches my stance and starts flirting with me a little bit more shamelessly. Smouldering glance, arm touch, the whole deal. I really need to leave, I am way too socially awkward for any attempt at handling this with grace. I start to try to make a break for it when we both freeze at the fake cough going on right behind Jason. My knight in mud covered armour is late, horseless, and kinda peeved form his glance at the doorway. Not at me, though. That is one thing I have learned about him. He has aggression, yes, but he takes that out on the field, strategically enough to earn him captain of the hockey team. When he gets mad at anyone, his jawline clenches and you can feel the anger emerging around his general area. When he's mad at me, his only problem is being able to hold my gaze.