Status: New co-write! You should comment :) <3
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Chapter 09: James
I flicked the tooth into the grass and went back inside after the fight. I felt so angry, so bad both physically and emotionally. I went into the bathroom and looked at my face, which was cut up and beginning to bruise in some places just beneath my eyes. My hands were shaking from the pain, and my whole body tensed and released rapidly, over and over again. I walked to the toilet and puked my brains out. I hadn't gotten into anything like that since... Ever. I checked the medicine cabinet, and of course all we had was some contact solution and toothpaste.
Afterwards I took a shower, washing myself slowly and gently, my body sore in more places than I had realized earlier. So much blood washed off of me it painted the tub a deep red for at least five minutes. My face was the most sensitive, so I had to be extra careful not to hurt myself while washing it.
I got out of the shower and went out into the living room, hoping no one else was home yet except for my mom who was still in her room taking a nap. The smell of popcorn and febreeze had mostly gone now, so I shut the windows and blinds and turned on the AC. I got dressed, combed my hair and went through the papers and shit I got from school. Computer usage forms, press and medical release forms, the usual shit my parents would put off until the last minute. I threw it on the computer desk and stepped outside for another cigarette.
Halfway through the cigarette, my dad came home from work. He was sweaty and looked even more pissed off than I felt, so I just decided to leave it alone for now until he had a chance to relax. I know for a fact he saw my face - he looked right at me as he approached the door. However, he didn't say a word, he didn't even give me a head-nod to say hey, he just walked right in the house and went back into his room.
The next day at school I could feel everyone's eyes on me as if I were the freak of the week. I just kept my head down and tried to ignore it, but it was hard to do when I felt like I was the center of everyone's attention and I really didn't want to be. Even the cute blonde girl from my Algebra class was looking at me weird. I kept my head down all day and tried to avoid any and all contact with anyone and everyone. It was to no avail though - every teacher I had that day asked what happened, then asked me if I wanted to go to the counselor's or the nurses office. They all assumed that because my face was beat up, I'm the one who got my ass kicked. Mrs. Chalice even tried to give me a lecture on how I should always report bullying as soon as it happens, and how fighting is never the answer, and how I can always go talk to her if I'm not comfortable talking to my counselor. What was she smoking, and why wasn't she sharing? Why would I be more comfortable talking to her when she couldn't do any more to fix the "problem" than the counselors? "Problem," meaning that it had been resolved, but they don't know that. She seemed like she just wanted to keep talking and talking all day long about the subject, but she had to stop when she sat down. Apparently she has some weird disease that makes her hurt all over. I felt bad for her, but I sighed in relief when she finally stopped talking about it, and I went back to listening to music and hiding my face from the world.
I had my head down in my arms most of the day, as much as the teachers would allow me to. I could tell kids were always looking my way, and they would always look away when I looked at them. I don't get what the big deal is about a guy after a fight with visible wounds. I guess it's fun to speculate about exactly how it happened, but that's no reason to stare at someone almost the whole hour.
When I walked into my 6th period class, I found a note on my desk that was colorfully decorated and folded in half. Curious, I sat down and picked up the piece of paper. It read:
I raised an eyebrow. I already had a ton of questions, like who wrote the note? How did they know where I sat? Was this even meant for me? And another big one, why did they care so much about me? I still hadn't made very many friends, and the odds that Melody had something to do with it were practically zero. Skeptical, I opened my backpack. Inside I found a plastic grocery bag with a red heart taped to it which also read "feel better" in very nice, fancy handwriting. I opened it slowly, expecting this to be some kind of joke. Inside, I found gauze pads, antiseptic wipes, a re-freezable ice pack that had melted somewhat to a slushie-like substance, some Band-Aids, and some tan cloth that was a little darker than my skin. I put the items back in the bag, tied it off again and put it back in my backpack. I bit my lip to keep from smiling like an idiot, my chest now beating with happiness.
Someone DOES care about me... I thought. Moments later, the bell rang and Mr. Palmchat spoke up.
"Alright class, I know it's only the second day of school, but we're just going to test and see what you remember from last year," he said as he picked up a stack of yellow worksheets. "You may work with a partner, but it will be a partner I choose for you." The class groaned almost simultaneously at that. As he passed out the worksheets, he pointed to two random people who happened to be sitting close to one another. I watched as the cute blonde girl got hers, and to my surprise, Mr. Palmchat pointed at the two of us. I could see a hint of nervousness on her face, though I couldn't understand why. I was nervous too, however—I didn't want to talk about what had happened yesterday at all, but it was sure to come up almost immediately. I picked up my stuff and move to sit behind her, waiting for her to turn around while she had a quiet conversation with the girl sitting in front of her. I sighed and pulled out a mechanical pencil and got started. I was already on question three by the time she turned her desk around.
"Hi," she said nervously. "Are you okay?" I closed my eyes for a second and rolled them so high it almost hurt.
"I'm fine, don't really want to talk about it," I said shortly. I looked at her and I could see something connect in her brain, but I had no clue what it was. I moved on to question four. She pulled out her pencil and started on her worksheet.
"So uhh, did you have a good summer?" I asked her as I pulled out my phone to text Melody.
"Yeah, did you?" Her answer was shorter than I expected. She seemed like the kind of girl that would describe it in vivid detail, even if I didn't want her to.
"Yeah," I said. "I got my first girlfriend this summer."
"That's exciting," she said, keeping her eyes on her paper. I could pretty much tell she wasn't all that interested, but for some reason I wanted to keep talking to her, as long as it wasn't about yesterday's fight. I typed out a message to Melody.
Hey Mel, so, we're working with partners on some worksheet in Algebra right now. I don't think the girl I got partnered with is very interested in working with me.
I set my phone on my lap and went on to the next question. About halfway through it, I saw the girl in front of me take out her phone. She raised an eyebrow, then quickly glanced back and forth between me and the text, her eyes slightly widened. Then she stood up, asked the teacher something that I couldn't quite hear, and walked out of the classroom in a hurry. I watched her as she left, wondering what had come up, though I found it slightly suspicious that she had gotten a text just after I sent one. I had this crazy idea that she could actually be my Melody, but the chances of that were so slim that it could never happen. I put my music back in and went back to the worksheet.
I was halfway done about five minutes later, when a short girl with curly black hair who looked like she was a mix of Hawaiian and something came up to me and tapped me on the shoulder.
"Where did Melody go?" the girl asked.
"Huh?" I was confused.
"The girl you got paired with, Melody... Where'd she go?" It was then that I realized why she had left in such a hurry.
She is my Melody.
Afterwards I took a shower, washing myself slowly and gently, my body sore in more places than I had realized earlier. So much blood washed off of me it painted the tub a deep red for at least five minutes. My face was the most sensitive, so I had to be extra careful not to hurt myself while washing it.
I got out of the shower and went out into the living room, hoping no one else was home yet except for my mom who was still in her room taking a nap. The smell of popcorn and febreeze had mostly gone now, so I shut the windows and blinds and turned on the AC. I got dressed, combed my hair and went through the papers and shit I got from school. Computer usage forms, press and medical release forms, the usual shit my parents would put off until the last minute. I threw it on the computer desk and stepped outside for another cigarette.
Halfway through the cigarette, my dad came home from work. He was sweaty and looked even more pissed off than I felt, so I just decided to leave it alone for now until he had a chance to relax. I know for a fact he saw my face - he looked right at me as he approached the door. However, he didn't say a word, he didn't even give me a head-nod to say hey, he just walked right in the house and went back into his room.
The next day at school I could feel everyone's eyes on me as if I were the freak of the week. I just kept my head down and tried to ignore it, but it was hard to do when I felt like I was the center of everyone's attention and I really didn't want to be. Even the cute blonde girl from my Algebra class was looking at me weird. I kept my head down all day and tried to avoid any and all contact with anyone and everyone. It was to no avail though - every teacher I had that day asked what happened, then asked me if I wanted to go to the counselor's or the nurses office. They all assumed that because my face was beat up, I'm the one who got my ass kicked. Mrs. Chalice even tried to give me a lecture on how I should always report bullying as soon as it happens, and how fighting is never the answer, and how I can always go talk to her if I'm not comfortable talking to my counselor. What was she smoking, and why wasn't she sharing? Why would I be more comfortable talking to her when she couldn't do any more to fix the "problem" than the counselors? "Problem," meaning that it had been resolved, but they don't know that. She seemed like she just wanted to keep talking and talking all day long about the subject, but she had to stop when she sat down. Apparently she has some weird disease that makes her hurt all over. I felt bad for her, but I sighed in relief when she finally stopped talking about it, and I went back to listening to music and hiding my face from the world.
I had my head down in my arms most of the day, as much as the teachers would allow me to. I could tell kids were always looking my way, and they would always look away when I looked at them. I don't get what the big deal is about a guy after a fight with visible wounds. I guess it's fun to speculate about exactly how it happened, but that's no reason to stare at someone almost the whole hour.
When I walked into my 6th period class, I found a note on my desk that was colorfully decorated and folded in half. Curious, I sat down and picked up the piece of paper. It read:
Somebody thinks you're cute ^.^
open your backpack, and feel better soon.
open your backpack, and feel better soon.
I raised an eyebrow. I already had a ton of questions, like who wrote the note? How did they know where I sat? Was this even meant for me? And another big one, why did they care so much about me? I still hadn't made very many friends, and the odds that Melody had something to do with it were practically zero. Skeptical, I opened my backpack. Inside I found a plastic grocery bag with a red heart taped to it which also read "feel better" in very nice, fancy handwriting. I opened it slowly, expecting this to be some kind of joke. Inside, I found gauze pads, antiseptic wipes, a re-freezable ice pack that had melted somewhat to a slushie-like substance, some Band-Aids, and some tan cloth that was a little darker than my skin. I put the items back in the bag, tied it off again and put it back in my backpack. I bit my lip to keep from smiling like an idiot, my chest now beating with happiness.
Someone DOES care about me... I thought. Moments later, the bell rang and Mr. Palmchat spoke up.
"Alright class, I know it's only the second day of school, but we're just going to test and see what you remember from last year," he said as he picked up a stack of yellow worksheets. "You may work with a partner, but it will be a partner I choose for you." The class groaned almost simultaneously at that. As he passed out the worksheets, he pointed to two random people who happened to be sitting close to one another. I watched as the cute blonde girl got hers, and to my surprise, Mr. Palmchat pointed at the two of us. I could see a hint of nervousness on her face, though I couldn't understand why. I was nervous too, however—I didn't want to talk about what had happened yesterday at all, but it was sure to come up almost immediately. I picked up my stuff and move to sit behind her, waiting for her to turn around while she had a quiet conversation with the girl sitting in front of her. I sighed and pulled out a mechanical pencil and got started. I was already on question three by the time she turned her desk around.
"Hi," she said nervously. "Are you okay?" I closed my eyes for a second and rolled them so high it almost hurt.
"I'm fine, don't really want to talk about it," I said shortly. I looked at her and I could see something connect in her brain, but I had no clue what it was. I moved on to question four. She pulled out her pencil and started on her worksheet.
"So uhh, did you have a good summer?" I asked her as I pulled out my phone to text Melody.
"Yeah, did you?" Her answer was shorter than I expected. She seemed like the kind of girl that would describe it in vivid detail, even if I didn't want her to.
"Yeah," I said. "I got my first girlfriend this summer."
"That's exciting," she said, keeping her eyes on her paper. I could pretty much tell she wasn't all that interested, but for some reason I wanted to keep talking to her, as long as it wasn't about yesterday's fight. I typed out a message to Melody.
Hey Mel, so, we're working with partners on some worksheet in Algebra right now. I don't think the girl I got partnered with is very interested in working with me.
I set my phone on my lap and went on to the next question. About halfway through it, I saw the girl in front of me take out her phone. She raised an eyebrow, then quickly glanced back and forth between me and the text, her eyes slightly widened. Then she stood up, asked the teacher something that I couldn't quite hear, and walked out of the classroom in a hurry. I watched her as she left, wondering what had come up, though I found it slightly suspicious that she had gotten a text just after I sent one. I had this crazy idea that she could actually be my Melody, but the chances of that were so slim that it could never happen. I put my music back in and went back to the worksheet.
I was halfway done about five minutes later, when a short girl with curly black hair who looked like she was a mix of Hawaiian and something came up to me and tapped me on the shoulder.
"Where did Melody go?" the girl asked.
"Huh?" I was confused.
"The girl you got paired with, Melody... Where'd she go?" It was then that I realized why she had left in such a hurry.
She is my Melody.
♠ ♠ ♠
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