Where These Hearts Collide

Chapter One

It was the story of the year; a tale to top all tales. After thirty seven years of teaching, Mrs. Calliway has finally retired. Her students cheered with glee and celebration as the news was broadcast over the intercom. Only one student seemed unable to bare the news, who was none other than Cameron Sherwood. Why shouldn't be have felt downhearted? She was the only teacher who ever tried to understand him, which meant something of the world to him. No one really ever tried to understand Cameron, other than a few students and family members, and of course, Mrs. Calliway. Even then, there was really only one person who fully and truly did understand him. Maybe it was because they had always had a connection between them; were able to see the world the same way. Or, maybe it was because there were in the same, but different, situation. 

The school bell rang, indicating another seven hours of hell done and over with. Of course, the torture didn't stop there for Cameron. As the halls flooded with a sea of students rushing to their lockers, a solitary Cameron emerges from an empty classroom, baring a bundle of books in his hands. His locker was right across the hall, literally, but perusal, he didn't quite make it that far. The next thing Cameron knew, he was falling face forward to the once hard ground now made soft by the shades of black, brown, and blue that he wore on a daily. The marks coated his skin like permanent ink, never quite able to be erased. Scars claimed him as their own.

The books he previously cradled sprawled out before him. He struggled to gather them all as the students continued to walk around him. It was no shock to see no look of surprise on the young boy's face as he recollected his belongings, picking himself up to proceed to his locker in caution. Reaching for the lock, a sigh of annoyance escaped him once again at the realization that someone had put his lock on backwards. Again, no look of surprise ever crossed his face once. Dropping his things carefully, Cameron sunk to the floor, back against the metal, and tried to undo his lock, having to look up at it and rely on his failing vision to get the numbers right. Within a few minutes, he broke his record, taking only three tries to unlock it. 

Collecting his jacket, Cameron tossed his books into his backpack, slinging it over his shoulder, and finally leaving the now seemingly empty school building. It was days like this where the boy was thankful that he walked to school. Though, that may have been an overstatement, considering his journeys from walking to school and home, and reverse, were never that pleasant. Stepping out into the cool atmosphere of the outside world, Cameron ran a hand through his golden blonde hair, stuffing the other hand into his front pants pocket. The sun was hidden behind a semi clouded sky, though he could still feel the warmth of its rays beaming down upon his skin. For once, the neighborhood seemed quiet. Maybe today was different. A few minutes time proved him wrong. 

A car pulled up slowly beside him. Out of experience, he tried to ignore it, knowing that it was best not to engage. Face forward, head down, he proceeded. The car followed him at his pace and soon, the window rolled down and revealed three or four boys a year his senior or so, smirking and laughing as they followed in their car. The front passenger seat occupant leaned out of the window, exposing his ugly jock exterior, which everyone mistook for sexy. Well, they didn't know the monsters behind the masks. 

"Hey Sherlock, where ya goin?" he questioned as his gang of jocks laughed. Cameron avoided him, which only made the elder teen angry. "Hey. I said, where ya goin, Sherlock?" he spoke again, in a much firmer tone. The football player told his buddy to stop the car, and the four huge boys exited the vehicle after pulling over. Still, Cameron kept walking. "Did you go deaf, walking out of the school, Cammy? Suddenly you think you're invisible, like I can't see you?" 

Even though Cameron swore he would avoid confrontation, the urge to intervene was building inside of him. "Well let me tell you something," he continued, following Cameron with his posse. "This ain't no Harry Potter fantasy land, alright? So I would suggest you cut the bullshit." Cameron's comeback was so soft spoken, that the jocks could just barely hear it.