Class Dictator

The Next To Go

We all sit around in the lounge awaiting Kyle to emerge from his office with his stack of papers and a plan. My arm is bandaged under a long sleeve shirt. Rachel sits beside me in one of the couches as Gwen, Derrick, and Joel share the one beside us. We hear a door open and see Kyle make his way upstairs.

"This one is gonna be quick because it's this weekend. This is Carol Jennics." He places a clear photo of her on a beach on to the coffee table. "She's noting more than a face. However, since Lincoln said they're the weakest, she has a small bone to pick with us."

Gwen leans in and observes the picture. "She's pretty. What do we need to do to her?"

"The school always host a award ceremony and a dinner to go along. They are giving Carol the 'model student citizen' prize. This girl is always at home getting herself ready or at school flaunting her charm."

"Then how'd she get the award?" Joel intrudes

"The panel had a bunch of guys she flirted with to get herself into it. Anyway, a friend of mine can get ID cards to work as waiting staff. We find where she's at and give her plate some emetics."

"What are those?" I ask because I've never heard of them.

"A substance that makes you puke. Would not recommend."

"What if it doesn't work?" Derrick scratches his chin.

"It will. I'm putting four doses in there. She's gonna go off like a damn sprinkler before she even knows. Any questions?" The room goes silent. We all turn to each other and Kyle decides we have all the information we need. He walks to his office. Derrick and Gwen watch a game on the television. Joel leaps to the computer. This only leaves Rachel and I at the pool table as we start a small game. She goes first as I start to talk.

"What do you think of the plan?" She gets to balls into the pockets.

"It's alright. But it's not the big thing on my mind." I lean across the table.

"Oh yeah?" I smirk as I pull my arm back. "What is on your mind then."

She grabs my left arm and causes me to screw up the shot. As I turn around, she pulls up the sleeve to the middle of my forearm. There's the scar wrapped in bandages. "Tell me where it's from. She whispers like she knows I want to hide it. "I won't tell."

Afraid that someone may look, I guide her below the lounge to the cars and between the black van and the crimson motorcycle. We sit facing each other. I pull up the sleeve and undo the bandages. There stood a large, thick scar in all of it's repulsive glory. She pulls it to her gently and gives me a look to have me explain.

"Marie wanted one last word. In the halls, she cut me as she walked by but I didn't notice the blood until I was too far away. I didn't want you to worry." I let my arm rest on my knee and look down in what somewhat feels like defeat, guilt, and shame rolled into a painful scar.

Silence over comes the two of us. I think she's disappointed in me. She hates me. I'm an idiot. Then, Rachel lunges forward and hugs me. It's like a sudden wave of peace and sanity are captured in her arms. I feel her began to talk from over my shoulder. "I don't worry about you, Wyatt. I'm just concerned. Don't be afraid to tell me anything. I'm on your side."

These words are seated into my head. Rachel is my closest friend. The day I hide from her is the day Kyle and Stephanie give each other a hug in the middle of the courtyard.