Flawless

Flawless [11]

11.

It was surreal. I melted into it and I found myself blocking everything else out. I had never been kissed like this before it was like one of those Hollywood movie type kisses you see in romantic tragedies. The kind of kiss that lingers and tingles on your lips long afterwards. His lips were perfect, soft and  warm as they touched mine and his hands moved slowly up and down on my cheek.

I found the world slipping away and with that all coherent thought. I wanted to stay like this forever. Never in my life had I ever felt more secure and safe with someone else than I did at this moment. It was fleeting but I wanted to savour this feeling for as long as I could.

Laughter erupted towards the entrance of the hall, a few late comers like myself I suspected. Archer must have heard them too, because as soon as the moment had come, it was gone.

We broke apart suddenly, I stepped back stumbling slightly regaining my balance. The blood rushed to my head, everything was dizzy and my heart pounded against my rib cage as it would rip through my chest.

I stole a quick glance at his face only to see his expression reflecting mine own. We both didn’t want it to end as sudden as it did. It was like it wasn’t over. It was still hanging in the air waiting to be finished.

Rounding the corner Charmaine and Reagan entered the hallway along with Aimee and another girl on the squad who followed a couple of steps behind. The four of them were laughing like a group of psychotic hyenas who had just taken down a helpless gazelle. It took them a few seconds to notice us, but when they did the laughing quickly died down.

“Late for class, I see?” Aimee said in a low voice.

“Hey Archer, is it true you beat up Ryan? And broke his shoulder?” Reagan asked, as she continued to walk forward her long thin legs sprouted out from underneath her skirt and made the trip for her quick. She was within a few meters of me within a few steps.

A crease formed in Archers forehead, clear with distaste to the bad rumour “Nothing of that nature happen. We simply had a discussion.” He said straightening out the creases in his white shirt.

“I heard you broke three fingers in his right hand.” Charmaine said standing just behind Reagan. She kept her eyes on Archer, I could tell that they refused to look at me. She knew what she did and I could see that she was feeling the full weight for that decision right now.

“None of that is true,” I said, jumping, “Do you honestly believe that he could do something like that?”

No one answered, the girl standing next to Aimee nodded. Reagan flicked her hair over her shoulder. “Whatever, we’re going to the weights room.”

She said walking between Archer and I the three girls in her trails. “Oh and don’t forget to check YouTube tonight, about five sophomores filmed this so-called ‘discussion’”

I glanced quickly at Archer, the colour had drained from his face and he didn’t seem to be blinking.

“See ya!” Regan said in her high-pitched voice, as she flung the double doors open.

The last thing I heard before the disappeared was Aimee asking, “Do you reckon they were kissing?”

“So…” I said, my voice isolated in the air, the silence crushing it. “I guess word gets around quicker than I thought.”

It took Archer a while but he eventually spoke “Do you really think it will be on YouTube?”

“No,” I shook my head straightaway trying to calm him. He was obviously freaking out, he was trying to hide it but I could tell, “Reagan’s all talk, they probably heard of a fight and are just making assumptions.”  He nodded slowly, “don’t worry about it.” I added.

“I…uh…I should go.” Archer said, his personality has shifted, he had become more ridged and he eyes darted around the corridor and refused to settle on me.

“Okay…” I said quietly, the moment had come quick and swiftly, and bittersweet it left, as he did.

Archer didn’t say anything else, he simply turned and left, moving up the corridor with a graceful swiftness then disappeared up the steps.

Feeling slightly discouraged now with the events of the last 20 minutes I went to PE with a sour taste in my mouth. This affected my performance in Volleyball, my mind was more occupied with unanswered questions that were begging to arise that I let the ball slip past my defence on several occasions.  

Elody asked if something was bothering me after class but I waved her offer, saying I was fine, nothing else. We stumbled into the locker room, the blood on my knee that had been from when I dived for the ball was now dry and the cut had healed over into a scar. I didn’t care though. I didn’t care about anything, what made it all worse was  that Poet wasn’t here for me. I kept my head low as I walked through the steamy locker room. A few girls had made a break for the showers, but I didn’t feel like one.

Carelessly my fingers moved over the combination lock. 24 right, back to 1 then finally 17 right.  I heard the familiar little click, then pulled open  the lock. Manoeuvring it the lock I removed it then pulled open my locker.

I put the lock on the top shelf like I always did then when I noticed something falling through the air. It had come from my locker, and now rested lightly on the ground.

As I bent down to pick it up, I realised that it was a photograph; it was a polaroid from one of those instant cameras.

The photo paper was crisp and cold when I picked it up, the edges sharp. Straightening my back, and brining the photo into better light I noticed what it was.

It was Poet. Her eyes shut as if she was in a peaceful sleep, her face calm and serene. I recognised this picture with such a clear familiarity. Poet hair mangled around her, he was on the cold wet ground. Concrete.  She was wearing a black jacket that my mum had bought me on a shopping trip last spring.

This picture had been taken yesterday.

By him.

My hand shaking, I clutched the picture between my fingers the edges of the photo paper digging into the tips of my fingers. My breath had started to become shallow, I was panting. This had caused my heart rate to increase more than volleyball had.

Very slowly, almost hesitant I turned the photo over. Hoping for the best, but expecting the worst. The worst was what I good.

Gasping and whimpering at the same time, I read the handwritten note on the back of the photo.

YOU CAN’T HIDE FROM ME