Bitter

fourteen - cal

   "And can anyone name all of the parts of the respiratory system?" Ms. Hunter asked the class, standing next to a life-size model of a human. A variety of colors and shapes covered the plastic model, representing the different parts of each system of the body.

   When no one raised their hand, she tried again. "Okay...can anyone name any parts of the respiratory system?" Her lips pursed and she crossed her arms, scanning the room. "Just one?" she asked, holding up her index finger. "Guys, I know you know this. Just someone answer this, please." Crickets.

   "Alright..." she trailed off. Eyes roving over her anatomy class, Ms. Hunter eventually focused on the corner at the back of the class. I was slouched in my seat, Jason in the desk next to mine, and we exchanged glances, knowing that Ms. Hunter was looking at one of us. "Mr. Warrick?" Her voice boomed as if I was sleeping in her class again. "Can you name a part of the respiratory system?"

   This was easy. In fact, a lot of the questions Ms. Hunter asked were easy. It was just most of the time she made any answer you gave seem stupid, whether it was right or wrong (which was partially the reason why no one even tried in her class apart from over-achiever, Riley Leland).

   "Uh...lungs," I said. She nodded and turned to write the word down on the board with her squeaky marker. I was surprised she hadn't made some useless comment on my response yet.

   "Can anyone else come up with an answer that's a little more...thoughtful? Not as obvious as Mr. Warrick's?" she then inquired. There we go, just what I was waiting for. That useless comment.

   Sitting up and leaning forward, I propped my head up with one arm. "Well, you asked for a part of the respiratory system and I gave you one," I reminded her. All she did was turn to me, glare, and got Riley Leland to name the rest of the parts.

   Jason kicked my shoe and whispered, "That lady definitely has some weird like, vendetta against you." I couldn't agree more.

I spent the next few minutes debating on mentally skipping class and sleeping, or texting Zach or Marco in whatever classes they were in. Whatever I chose, I wouldn't have to listen to Ms. Hunter's voice (it was like a blaring fire alarm to my ears) and that was fine by me.

   Peeking at my phone that I held under my desk, I started typing out a message to Marco but only got halfway through it. A knock sounded on the classroom door and it squeaked open, revealing a stern Principal Norris with none other than New Guy. "I'm sorry to interrupt your class Ms. Hunter, but I have a student who should be in here. I'm not sure what got mixed up," Norris explained, opening the door up more so Mr. Mysterious could walk through.

   "Alright, thank you," Ms. Hunter dismissed Norris with a wave. Norris slowly shut the door with a click and Ms. Hunter resumed class. "Okay, so we have a new student everyone. What's your name?" she asked Angry Eyes.

   The class stared at the front of the room, where the new guy stood, hands in his pockets, a thin line in place of his mouth. "West," he simply declared, voice low and raspy. Ms. Hunter tilted her head slightly.

   "Just West? What about your last name? I need to report that you're here and not absent," she stated with a tap of her pen on a sheet of paper.

   "Haley. My last name is Haley," West replied.

   Jason kicked my shoe again, more forcefully this time. I looked over at him and he leaned over his desk to whisper, "Dude, that's that kid that went to school with us. Moved away in second grade?"

   I peered at this West guy from the back of the classroom, waiting for myself to magically recognize him somehow, for a specific memory to piece itself together. And a memory sure did when his stare landed on me for the second time that day. I whispered back to Jason, "Oh he didn't move away. He was expelled from Landon."

It was like West could hear everything I was saying, even over the consistent chatting of my classmates. Seeing him again, how much he'd changed (and at the same time was exactly the same), transported me back to when I was seven.

West Haley had been in the same class as me. The same class Lydia Bosher had recently, randomly shown up in one day. Haley had already been held back twice, so he had to have been around nine at that time.

During recess, Haley was either found killing various kinds of bugs or pushing around the other kids. Literally pushing them around. He was older than the other kids in our class by two years, so he had an advantage over everyone. He got away with that for some time (probably because Stephen Haley got away with a lot too). Like father, like son.

A lot of the other kids didn't like Haley (no surprise there) and it seemed like everyone had some reason to stay away from him. I, for one, had hated what he said about my family. His dad was most likely feeding him lies again. He bragged about everything he had that I didn't. So we all just avoided him as best we could.

Believe it or not, talking back to teachers and physically hurting other kids repeatedly were not the reasons Haley was expelled from Landon Elementary. At least not the main reason. It was the instance with Lydia that got him sent away and brought her to fame.

She hadn't talked much for the first few weeks at Landon, but she definitely had been observing everything and everyone in that class, especially Haley. No one paid her any attention until that one day when Haley had targeted her and had pushed her from the monkey bars. From where I was, I could see she was gasping for air after the impact of hitting the ground. I'd never know where Mrs. Morelli was when all of that was happening.

Lydia had struggled to get to her feet and Haley was standing in front of her, taunting her. Just like Lydia would do to me just a few weeks in the future, she barreled into Haley and knocked him down, pinning his kicking and screaming body down. Lydia was only seven, Haley nine, and she had tackled him to the ground, something I'd wished I'd thought of doing.

Lydia had swiped something shiny that had been tucked under Haley's shirt, as if she had known it was there the entire time. I guess her constant watching from the back of the class paid off because with one punch of her fist in the air, her fingers uncurled and presented a small switchblade. The crowd of other kids that had been watching stood petrified and that was when Mrs. Morelli came running outside, over to Lydia to snatch the knife from her tiny grasp. Lydia was of course questioned about the blade, asked if it was hers since Mrs. Morelli hadn't seen her take it from Harvey. With Lydia being the angel she was, Mrs. Morelli inevitably believed her and that day was the last day we saw Haley.

With Haley gone, it was like a curse had been lifted from the class and in everyone's eyes, Lydia was a hero. That was also the same time everyone in my life had flocked to her, adored her, and when everything between Lydia and me started.

Seeing Haley again after all those years really made the food in my stomach churn. I wasn't sure who let him come back from the dead, but I knew life wasn't going to be the same now. Ms. Hunter's sharp voice cut through my thoughts. "West Haley, okay," she said, writing down his name so she wouldn't forget. She let out a little laugh. "Okay, so West, before you sit down, can you name one function of any of these parts of the respiratory system?" she asked him, gesturing to the board covered in orange marker.

Haley glanced over at the board and I wasn't quite sure, but I thought I saw him smirk. "The lungs," he began, "are responsible for taking in air," he looked directly at me, "and if the body can't get oxygen in three minutes, the body will die."

I shifted in my seat and tore my eyes away from him. It was like his words alone had left me without air. I suddenly wanted to run out of the room.

Ms. Hunter nodded, writing the answer up on the board for all to see. "Yes, you are correct, West. Interesting fact you gave there. Oxygen is very important and we will discuss all about it this lesson," she informed, completely oblivious to the way West was currently staring at me.

From the very beginning, even at Landon, people had ignored him, hadn't noticed the switchblade he'd been carrying. I hadn't even noticed it. If that's what he had been hiding at nine years old, I couldn't help but wonder what he was hiding now as he stood, hands in his pockets, at the front of my anatomy class.