Are You Scared Yet?

I sighed softly, turning on my heel to chase after Brendan much to the dismay of my better judgment. I glanced at the dent in the locker, thinking about guys and steroids, things the football players here used quite often, usually they ‘weren’t aware that’s what they were doing’ or something like that. I couldn’t help but think that steroids weren’t the cause of that.

“Hey! Slow down, Jesus Christ, short person here, and it’s sure as hell not easy to catch up to tall people with large strides.” I frowned, mentally cursing tall people. Either he hadn’t heard me, or chose to ignore me, either of which could happen. I grabbed his arm, stopping him. He turned, looking down at me. “T-Thanks, no one would have actually helped.” I mumbled.

He looked down at me, slightly confused. “And why wouldn’t someone help you, Mar-Kingsmen?” Did he actually call me what I asked him to call me? Either he’s lost it, or he’s trying to place nice, and I’m not too sure if I liked it or not.

“Take a look, Lexington, I’m definitely not Polly Popularity, more along the lines of Wendy Weirdo, or a Sally Strange.” I pushed my reddish hair away from my eyes, holding my notebook to my chest with my other arm.

“Mar-Kingsmen, you aren’t a ‘weirdo’ or even ‘strange’ you’re just different.”

“I didn’t come here for a non-effective pep talk. I want to know how you managed to dent that locker so much.” I scratched my arm, wincing when I reopened one of the cuts.

A look I couldn’t decipher crossed his face. “Go away.” He muttered, almost like a growl. I looked at him confused. Just a little bit ago, I was the one telling him to go away, now he was. I frowned.

“Fine, be a jerk, I was just trying to be nice and maybe get an answer from a question.” I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to ignore the pain in my arm. “Answer me one question, though, how did you dent that locker that much?”

“Go away, Marie.” My frowned deepened. I called him names under my breath as I turned on my heel, my arms dropping to my sides. I thought I heard him tell me to come back, but then I heard footsteps walking away.

I guess my first impression of him was correct. He was a jerk. I went to the park, not wanting to go home just yet, I’d put that off as long as I could. Home wasn’t home to me, it felt more like hell. I hid under the slide, a place I usually went if I just needed to get away. I closed my eyes lightly, biting my lower lip as I held my arm close to myself.

I pulled my hoodie closer to myself, trying to keep warmth in my small body as I slowly drifted off into the land of sleep under the slide. I may have looked like a hobo or something, but at least I was away from home.

“Mar-Kingsmen?” Had I dreamt it or actually heard it I wasn’t sure of at the moment. I then felt my body go as if weightless, being pressed against something like someone was holding a baby. I opened my eyes a little, seeing a pair of hazel eyes, though I was too tired to register who’s eyes they were. “Marie, what were you doing sleeping under a slide? Things could come and get you,” he asked before shaking his head. “Never mind, let’s get you home.” I may have mumbled a no, I may not have, but all I know is that I woke the following morning with a sticky note on my forehead, elegant scrawl wrote the words: You’ll always be safe, Marie. On it.

My only thought was ‘what the fuck?’ as I slipped out of bed, not recollecting anything from the night before.