Leather-bound Secrets

His eyes were engrained in my mind as I ran to my next class. I kept my head down and hoped that I would be ignored.

Unfortunately, I ran into someone and was sent sprawling on the floor, my books all around me. A blush filled my cheeks and spread to my neck. I was just glad I didn’t run into a wall. I scurried to get up and tried to retrieve my papers.

My hands brushed the other person’s, and I jumped. It sent a shock up my arm.

“Thanks,” I mumbled, my eyes downcast, staring at the cracks in the speckled white tiles.

My feet shuffled to the nearest desk, and I plopped down, immediately reaching for my journal, but came up empty.

Panic rose in my throat.

Where is it? I just had it. Who could have taken it?

My mind was swirling with thoughts, every single one hitting me harder than the last, completely disorienting me. It was a jumble of nothingness, just words filling the space, feeding the panic. My heart was rapidly beating trying to leap out of my chest and leave me gasping for air. I felt like the oxygen in the room was being sucked out, and all of the colors were draining from the usually bright world. My heart was drowning in fear, and my body was trembling as if I stepped into a cold winter storm, the snow brutally pelting me.

It was gone.

I felt a hand grab onto my forearm, and I jumped.

“Hey, it’s alright. No need to jump, love. I was just trying to pass you your notebook. You dropped it when you ran into me,” said an Irish voice.

I cringed. He was in my history class. That was my luck. Life needed to crawl in a corner and think about its choices. Clearly, it wanted to play games, games that I didn’t want to play.

I snatched it out of his hands. I was disappointed when it was only my math notebook. My nerves were bouncing off of the walls as they wondered who could have my journal.

I started to bite my fingernails. It was a nervous habit. My nails were always reduced to little stubs once my hand lifted to my mouth. There was no stopping the subconscious nibbling.

I met his eyes, and he was staring at me, concerned.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” I snapped in a hushed tone.

“Again, no need to snap. Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong? It would make life a whole lot easier,” he said calmly.

I thought about it for a few seconds, but my mouth kept going of its own accord.

“I can’t find my fucking journal. I swear to God, if anybody finds my journal and reads it, I will find them and let loose an army of squirrels on them,” I seethed.

His eyes widened, but he continued.

“You seem to be about as mean as a baby penguin or a little puppy even. And where on earth would you get an army of squirrels? This threat just seems a bit flawed.”

I rolled my eyes, “It may be an empty threat, but my point is that I will beat the shit out of them if they so much as looked at my journal the wrong way. It’s personal, and it’s important to me. The fact that it’s gone scares me.”

“I’m sure it’ll turn up. If you want, I can help you look after classes get out.”

I pondered about letting him help me. Did I want his help? Why would I need it? Why is he being nice to me?

“If you want,” my mouth decided to spill out.

I mentally slapped myself. I just couldn’t shut up. What was the point in being smart if you couldn’t learn to shut your mouth?

I looked at my history book as if it were the most interesting thing on the planet. I hated history. It was just a group of dates. We pretended to know what we were talking about, but people have their own perspective as to what actually happened. History is just a set of lies that we needed to remember so that we weren’t so misinformed. Newsflash: The whole world is misinformed. I always thought that the past was important so that we could learn from our mistakes; I still do. However, I learned to look at the general happenings and make my own conclusions. As humans, we have treated each other in a miserable manner. It could be because our lives have been built on the lies of our past. In any case, I just didn’t appreciate being lied to, and that was exactly what those history textbooks did.

“Mary? You look like you want the book to disintegrate under your stare. I think it might, you look terrifying,” his voice said, breaking into my thoughts.

“What?”

“You look like you want to stab the book with your pencil.”

“Oh, sorry.”

“Don’t say sorry to me, apologize to the book you were about to send to the grave,” he replied, smiling.

I rolled my eyes.

“Normally, I wouldn’t, but I guess I will. It’s not like I have anything to lose,” I managed.

“Good, now maybe the book won’t feel as hated. I mean, it’s just a whole bunch of bull shit anyway. Everyone thinks either this or that happened. It’s all skewed, really.”

My jaw dropped. I thought I was the only one who thought that way. He was just full of surprises.

Though I didn’t want to admit it, he was growing on me.

The teacher entered the room in a hurry. He was sopping wet.

“Sorry I’m late! I forgot your papers in my car, but with my luck, it was pouring outside. So, keep reading chapter ten, and answer the questions at the end of the section while I change into dry clothing,” said Mr. Collins as he exited the classroom, leaving a water trail.

I felt someone nudging my elbow and turned in their direction.

“Are all of the teachers at this school totally bonkers?”

A snort escaped from my mouth.

“The fact that a new kid got that is remarkable since half the school is so oblivious. And bonkers, oh goodness, I’m still laughing. You’ll learn soon enough how this school works, but in the meantime, maybe we could be friends?”

It couldn’t hurt to have a friend. He actually understood the world around him. I felt like he would be a good friend. I had to break from my shell. I needed to trust people. Maybe I could trust him.

“That would be nice. You seem like a nice girl. And you interest me,” he said as the bell rang.

He began collecting his things to leave the room.

“Wait, what do you mean?”

Instead of answering, he just winked at me, causing my face to turn bright red. It felt like my face was on fire.

Momentarily, he made me forget about my lost journal. The panic had subsided. He left me smiling after him as I left the classroom.