Tales From Another Broken Home

I was nervous to go the school the next day.

If you haven’t been able to tell already, I’m not exactly the most “assertive” person out there. Actually, I’m quite the opposite. Somehow, in the course of about five hours, I’d have to muster up the courage to tell the most confident, standoffish person I had ever met that I don’t really want to talk to him anymore. It was kind of terrifying, especially since I figured that Jimmy wouldn’t wanna stop talking to his little pet; and Jimmy was selfish and arrogant enough to stand up for what he wanted. Because he always gets it.

By the time I got to Chemistry, I was about to have an aneurism. As I expected, (and maybe kind of hoped,) Jimmy wasn’t in PE that day. This was good, or at least for a moment, because I got to avoid my inevitable confrontation for just a little longer, but also kind of terrible because now it was about to be shoved in my face. The clock ticked time away as I waited for class to start, and that dark-haired rebel boy to walk in. The bell chimed.

Of course he wasn’t here.

Five minutes, ten minutes, fifteen passed as my teacher started to lecture, and he still wasn’t here. I started to really worry at this point; I kinda just wanted to get this over with; one snip and I’d be done.

The chair beside me squeaked on the waxed floor as someone yanked it out, and I heard the thump of a backpack hitting the floor accompanied by the shuffle of someone plopping down into the chair. I glanced over out of the corner of my eye, and there, in all his bedheaded glory, was none other than the boy I had been wanting, and dreading to see all day.

“Hey,” he said, greeting me, but not really greeting me, and I replied nervously back. My eyes shifted between him and the whiteboard of notes as I waited for him to say something else, but that was it.

That was all he said.

I waited the entire class period for him to say something, not really even paying attention to the lecture, I was so anxious, but not a word came out of his mouth. He just sat there with the same bored, nonchalant expression that he always had, staring off into the distance like usual.

The bell rang, and he immediately stood up, grabbed his bag, and walked out of the room.

I didn’t know what to do. How do you talk to someone who doesn’t engage you in conversation in the first place? I sat there, stunned, scared to move, scared to make a decision. Scared to do anything for myself.

I sighed, grabbing my things, and slowly walked out of the room, intending on catching the bus to go straight home.

As I tried to navigate my way through the crowded hallway, I was suddenly pushed to the side, up against the wall of lockers. I squeaked out of surprise and pain, and looked up to meet my maker, and, not to my surprise, stared inches away into that pale face I now knew all too well.

“So,” he started off, a glint in his eye. He looked at me in a way as if he was trying to hand off the conversation to me, but I didn’t know what to say.

“So?” I breathed timidly, feeling myself trying to morph into the lockers behind me.

“So, maybe I wanted to talk to you, and hear what you have to say about some things,” Jimmy prompted, smirking. I think he wanted praise.

“I dunno,” I said slowly, avoiding eye contact. “I…”

I knew he was looking at me with that condescending look; the one that made me freeze up. I still felt frozen up; like I couldn’t get the words out that I desperately wanted to say.

“I…” Jimmy said, a bit impatient. I gulped, closing my eyes, and just decided to say it.

“I don’t think I should be able to see you any more.”

I kept my head down with those words, scared of what he would say to me, and scared of that look he would give me, and scared that I might back down because of those eyes.

He scoffed, turning his head away from me to let out a little chuckle. He leaned in closer to me, tilting his head down to make eye contact with me, searching for my face, but I held steadfast. I just couldn’t look at him.

“Abbey,” he said firmly. “Look at me.”

I bit my tongue inbetween my teeth, and stared at the same spot on the ground. I would win this fight.

“Abbey.”

I glanced up at him, just for one second, one second, and was mesmerized by his eyes. I felt my chin tilt up, and his face came closer. He had this semi serious expression on his face, and I couldn’t figure out why, but then he spoke again.

“Did you enjoy it?”

I just stared.

“Wh-what?” was the most intelligent thing that I could muster.

“Did. You. Enjoy it?” he repeated, emphasis placed a lot more this time. I’m sure my eyes resembled that of a doe or something, trapped by the blinding stare of someone’s bright headlights on the road.

“Well, you took advantage of me, and you knew I shouldn’t be doing that, and its just, I don’t know,” I stuttered, but of course, he interrupted me.

“Did you enjoy it?!” he asked one final time, his voice straining from resisting the urge not to yell. “I don’t care about anything you felt after, I wanna know if you enjoyed it then.”

He stared me down, steadfast. The hallway was pretty much emptied by now, as people scurried out in the last remaining minutes to make it to the buses. I could feel how close his body was to mine; it was just like the other night. The weirdest thing was that whole I wanted him to pull away desperately, at the same time, I didn’t want him to leave.

“I,” my timid lips whispered, not able to look away, or think, or breathe. “I…maybe might have.”

“See?” he said in a low voice. “I knew it.”

He chuckled, bringing his lips up to my ear.

“I think we should do it again sometime, then,” he whispered, sending tingles up my spine. I stood, feeling like someone had just replaced my blood with ice, and he pulled back, giving me one last tantalizing look.

“Well, I guess that means I’ll see you soon.”

And with those last words, he left me, just when I started wanting more.