Fatal Attraction

Rumors. They spread through a school like wildfire. It spreads from one person, to four people and so on. Somehow, word had gotten out that I had threatened Mike on Friday. As I walk into school that Monday, people part as I strut passed them. I give them strange looks which they return. I slowly unlock my locker and take out the appropriate books. Tony leans on the locker next to mine and stares at me heatedly. And when I say heatedly, I don't mean the sexy kind of heatedly; I mean the frustrated kind of heatedly.

"What?" I ask him, aggravated. At this point I hadn't known what story Mike had sold to our fellow peers. I am unaware of what is happening. People are growing frightened of me. I am the walking freak, more now than ever.

"People are talking," Tony says quietly, "They're saying that you threatened Mike on Friday and that you told him he's next to die. Why would you do that when you know what he's like, May?"

Realization washes over my face and makes way for pure infuriation. I curl my hand into a fist, "What?" Tony's eyes widen and he takes hold of my shoulders but I shrug him off. I slam my locker shut and walk away from him. I don't look back as Tony calls my name. I know he's following me but I don't care. I keep walking. My feet have a mind of their own as I am carried through the school.

I am practically running now. I dodge people and even collide with somebody, but keep sprinting. I finally reach the little snitch's locker, slamming it shut for him. His eyes dart in my direction with a perplexed expression. That expression melts away with pure fear. I grab a fistful of Mike's shirt. The old me emerges from deep within as I say in the calmest tone of voice I could manage, "What have you done?" I separate the words with heavy breaths in between each.

Mike laughs nervously and doesn't meet my eyes. He tries to move out of my grip but I tug him closer. I can feel the eyes of spectators but I don't care. This is his doing. He's causing this scene, "I-I, Mayella-"

"Not so brave now, huh?" I spit venomously into his ear. I twist the fabric of his shirt in my fist, "Your walking nightmare is holding you down, making you seem like a scared fool in front of everyone. How does that make you feel? How does it feel to have people watching you with judgement? How does it feel Mike? Huh? How does it feel to know that these people know you're afraid of a girl?"

I stare into Mike's eyes, watching them dart back and forth. He's conjuring up something clever and witty to say. I know Mike well. He's going to try and get himself out of this situation with a witty remark. I won't let him get away that easily. "It's better than being known for attracting death."

That's all it takes for me to snap. I let out a hearty cry and slam Mike up against his locker. I slap and punch at him. He does not move out of my way. He endures it. People are watching, horrified that, the freak that has been sedated for a year, has finally snapped. Her old ways are back. She's beating the shit out of her ex; she loves the feeling of the bruises forming even before she pulls her colliding fist away from the skin. I love it all.

I am screaming at him, more nonsense than coherence. I am about to give him a swift kick between the legs, where it hurts, and his face scrunches up in anticipation, but it never comes. Arms wrap around my waist and I am being dragged away. I am dragged into room that smells horrid, and the heavy door is slamming behind us with a loud thud. I'm pretty sure I have been dragged into the boy's bathroom. The sound of the door locking fills my ears.

I collapse further into the arms of my savior. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that it's Tony, my knight in shining arm. Warm tears cascade down my cheeks as I bury my face in his shoulder. He squeezes me into him, his hands burrowing into my hair. He comforts me as I let out all the tears I have stored inside me for the past few months. They dampen his shirt but he does not care. He stroked my hair and tells me it's okay.

It doesn't take long before we here the principal's voice through the bathroom door. Tony unlocks it, and we move apart. But the tear stains in the center of his navy blue shirt say it all; I am weak, and I have broken apart. I don't hear what the principal says, but Tony ushers me forward. I am numb as I am led through the halls. The halls are empty, signaling that first period has begun. Tony doesn't ask to go to first; he follows us right into the principal's office.

I am ushered into a seat. I listen but I don't hear. Tony is holding my hand. I feel like I am a criminal being sentenced and my husband is being supportive. But I am seventeen years old, I am a junior in high school, and I have in school suspension for the rest of today, and tomorrow. I cannot eat lunch in the cafeteria, and I cannot go near Mike Fuentes for the remainder of the week. But, keeping me away from Mike won't put out the hate fire burning in my stomach.

I agree to the principal's terms and the assistant principal takes me to the test room, where I will be forced to sit for the next seven hours. I can only get up to go the bathroom. The AP assures me that he is going to call my mother, in which I retort, "My mother is dead." The words come out flat and bland, and the AP scrunches up his porky face in annoyance. He corrects himself, spitting out the word foster in front of mother. He shuts the door behind me as I take my seat, staring out the window.

The teacher instructed to watch me doesn't say a word to me as time ticks by. I take out my sketchbook, and soon, the only noises in the room are the scratching of a pencil on paper and the keys on a keyboard.