The Perfect Storm

I hadn’t been to Spanish class in three days. Every day Anthony and I would go out to lunch and stay for the next period. I had felt bad about making Anthony cut class with me until he had told me he cut every other day anyway because he thought his Science teacher was stupid.

We sat in his car in silence. He was texting someone incessantly while I just leaned my elbow on the armrest and put my chin in my hand to stare out the window absent-mindedly.

“It’s almost one thirty, you wanna head back?” Anthony asked me suddenly.

“Sure,” I said with a shrug.

Anthony shoved his phone in his pocket and started his car again. The car was silent all the way back to the school. When we arrived I opened the door and got out to go to my English class. Anthony, however, didn’t make a move to get out.

I paused in closing my door. “You coming?” I asked.

Anthony pulled out his phone again. “Nah,” he said with a grin. “I’m good right where I am.”

I smiled and rolled my eyes. “And you wonder why all your teachers hate you.” I said before closing my door and walking into the school.

Nobody tried to stop me. For all they knew I was coming back from my lunch period. The hallways were empty, I guessed that ninth period had already started. That was fine with me, I hated English nearly as much as I hated Spanish. My English teacher gave us about two hours of homework every night, if not more. There was only one reason why English was better than Spanish, and that was that Kasey Adams wasn’t in it.

I was about twenty feet away from my English classroom when suddenly I was pulled into a janitor’s closet. I tried to scream but a large hand was clamped down on my hand. I struggled for a few moments uselessly, trying to pull the arms of whomever it was that held me off of me. After a few moments of futile struggling I bit the hand that covered my mouth in desperation.

“Ow!” a familiar voice cried. “Fuck, Towers, that hurt.”

I recognized that voice, and froze.

Suddenly the light clicked on and I could see Kasey clearly. I glared at him before turning to open the door and leave.

“Wait,” he said.

Kasey grabbed my wrist and pulled me back. I tried to yank it out of his grip but he was too strong. I glared at him coldly.

“Don’t touch me.” I snarled. “Let go of me-what are you doing?”

Kasey was pulling me towards him and then around to the other side of the closet, so now he stood between me and the door. Instead of glaring at him now I was staring at him in fear. He smirked slightly at the look on my face.

“Relax,” he said. “I just need to talk to you.”

“So you pull me into a secluded closet?” I demanded, still trying to free my wrist from his iron grasp. “I don’t think that’s normal.”

He rolled his eyes.

“Well I would’ve talked to you in class three days ago but you’ve been avoiding me.” he said.

I didn’t have a response to that.

Kasey smirked again.

“Well spit it out and let go of me.” I snarled, shaking my wrist in anger but he wouldn’t let go.

“Is there a please?” he asked, enjoying this.

I glared at him. “Let go of me or I’ll scream.” I hissed.

Kasey’s eyes narrowed and he released my wrist. I shoved my now free hand into my pocket and continued to glare at him.

“Wait for me after school today by the main lobby. I’ll drive you home and we can work on the project.” he said.

I just stared at him vacantly. Had he really just said that? Did he really expect me to get into a car with him? He was a juvenile delinquent, there was no way in hell I’d ever get in that car. Kasey smirked as he read the reaction on my face.

“I’ll wait for you then.” he said just before he left the closet.