Hell Hounds

Monday. It is much to early to be concerned about old dead white people, but my history teacher is insistent about going on and on about the Cold War. Half the class is either zoning out or sleeping, Eliza is under her desk next to me, texting. I'm probably the only one actually taking notes, and I'm only writing about half of what he's saying. I'm telling myself That I'll just have to take the book home and redo the notes when the door creeks open.

Mr. Johnson goes quiet and he turns to an unfamiliar person in the hallway.

"S-sorry, I got lost." A boy says while flashing a smile. He glides over and hands the teacher a note and faces the rest of the class while Mr. Johnson reads it. The guy was average height, he had already went through puberty by his voice. His hair was black and messy, and he was rather pale. The other kids stared at him, intrigued by a new face. From the look on most of the girls, he was definitely a sight to be seen. But what made me stare was his eyes, those bright eyes. That glowing carmine that scanned the room felt all too familiar, my mind flashes back to last night with the dog. Those same eyes . . .

"I see, you're that new kid. Welcome to our class, sit anywhere that's empty."

The kid goes to sit and Mr. Johnson shuffles around the room for a textbook to give him. Poor kid getting that book thrown at him two months into the year. he wasn't far behind but he'd be confused for a while.

Although it's Monday, the lunch room is loud and energetic. Lots of kids have already found their clique, and are huddled together at the different tables. I was with the jocks, not people I would normally hang out with myself but Eliza was magnetized to them. They all laughed way too loudly and talked about girls in ways I didn't need to hear too close to me. As a matter of fact, two of them are going on about another sex-escapade the went on at Saturday night's party, and all the other girls they were curious about. Teenage boys discovering their penises for the first time always made me cringe.
Eliza is feeding Mich pieces of her brownie with her fingers, and he keeps licking them. Eliza kept giggling before she broke off another piece, she hadn't eaten any of the brownie.
"So I was thinking, we should totally do a movie night tonight, lots of horror stuff."

"Sure babe."

Eliza eyes me, I didn't even think she was addressing me until she glossed her eyes over, patiently waiting for a response. I scrambled my mind for an excuse, I didn't want to be anywhere near them right now. Not on a Monday when they were in super love mode.

"Mind if I sit here?" The kid from first period is standing near me holding a tray of cafeteria food. I feel so sorry for him.

"Of course, we get to meet the new kid!" Eliza beams at him and he slides in next to me. I tense up and slide my brown bag over.

"So what's your name? I'm Eliza and this is my boyfriend Mich."

"I'm Jet, Jet Aryes." Jet turns his head towards me, "And who might you be cutie?"

"A-Amaryllis." My face heats up and I look at my hands.

"Like the flower?"

I nod. I'm surprised anyone actually knew that my name was technically a flower. A red one, usually gets a lot of attention only around the holidays. I think it's my mother's fault for giving me a strange name, for seeing my bright red hair and immediately thinking of a flower.

"So where ya from, Jet?" Eliza moved to Mich's lap, and his hands instinctively went to her waist. My face heats up and I think I'm blushing at this point, but I wasn't sure if a blush could show up against my dark skin.

"New York."

"Oh, a city boy! What made you come to such a boring old town like Westwend?"

"Family issues. It's easier living here you could say."

Eliza opens her mouth for another question, not realizing she's probably overstepped her boundaries, when Michael stuffs a brownie piece in her mouth. Her jaw is making small yet quick contractions to finish it off, she probably wants to quickly get through her questions ASAP. From the corner of my eye, Jet is playing with his mashed potatoes, which are yellow. He's stirring them with his fork and poking it every now and then, before he pushes it away and looks at me again. I stare at my brown bag. It was empty by now but I wanted to do anything but see those eyes of his.

"Jet, what do you like to do? Any interests?"

Eliza chats away at Jet for several more minutes before I decide it's high time for some damn peace and quiet.
"I'm stopping by the library, I'll see you guys later." My voice is barely audible in the loud hum of the lunchroom. None of them acknowledge me beside Jet, who just looks up at me with a pained expression. It reminded me of a puppy that didn't want to be left alone. I turn away and throw away my paper bag, then head out the doors.

I sit in the back of the library, happy to cuddle up at a table and plug my headphones into my phone. I turn on my music and pull out the book I checked out last week. It would need to be renewed soon which is why I'm glad I stopped by anyway. An alarm is set to let me know when the bell is about to ring, and I get lost in my pages.

After about thirty pages or so, I stretch and set my book down. In front of me is someone with a leather jacket and dark, messy hair. Jet looks at me with curious eyes, and my arms are above my head, not moving. We're just staring at each other for a long time while Alessia Cara is wondering what she's doing here.

"Sorry, the lovebirds were getting to me," Jet whispers. His whisper is a low hum, but it's honestly much too deep to be considered a real whisper.

I put my arms down, but am unable to think of anything to say in response. Jet just smiles,

"Say something kitten."

I blink twice, "Kitten?"

"Ah, so she does speak."

"I'm not mute . . ."

"Could've fooled me." I check the time on my phone, five minutes before the bell rings. I tuck my book away in my bag and turn off the music on my phone.

"Mind showing me around? I've been late to all of my classes so far . . . " Jet throws me a charming smile that reveals an entire top row of pearly whites.

"S-sure," I mumble and turn towards the door. I'd be surprised if he actually heard me.