My good feelings stayed with me all through Philosophy, and Math and lunch in Sawyer's car. It stayed with me right up until the point where I had a class with Josh. Then it sort of faded from me. Well, faded is too relaxed of a word. It was forcefully crashed out of me by Josh forcefully slamming into me.
When I'd walked into Astronomy, the teacher, Mr. Thomson, had been absent, running late to class, or off on some quick errand. Either way, he'd left this particular group of students alone. I should have immediately noticed something was wrong by the multiple sets of eyes watching me through the windows as I walked up to the door. That should have registered something with me, but I was so used to people eyeing me, that it didn't even faze me.
What happened next did.
I opened the door like normal and it shut behind me like normal. That was when normalcy stopped. I'd walked a few feet into the room when a "hut-hut" was sounded down one of the aisles. I turned my head to register Randy making the sound, a wicked grin on his face. I wasn't sure why until I was hit full force in the chest, landing heavily on the cold tile of the floor. The wind was knocked out of me and my head slammed back painfully, with a crack that surely the person in the last row heard. My hazy vision picked out the form of Josh sneering at me on my chest, pressing down with all his weight so I still couldn't inhale. I couldn't breathe and my sight was shifting from hazy to gray to black around the edges. I was going to pass out.
With a pained grunt, I shoved at Josh as hard as I could. I was weak and hurting from the sudden attack, but Josh was smaller than me and I was starting to panic from lack of air. Eventually, I did get him pushed off and that sweet oxygen filled my lungs almost painfully. My vision returned slowly...along with my hearing. Instead of the sound of blood whooshing through my ears and throbbing in my head, I heard laughter, what sounded like the entire room laughing.
Josh was standing in front of me, bent over from laughing so hard and I carefully looked around. I noticed most, but not all, were laughing along with him. I rubbed my head and sat up, trying to steady my breath. Panicked voices started from the back and filtered up to me. People started shifting and sitting in the seats, still struggling with giggles. I started to stand when Josh walked over and shoved me back down before heading to his seat. My dazed body couldn't respond fast enough to stop him and I sat back down heavily.
"Fuck you, Josh," I said harshly...right as the teacher entered the room.
"Lucas West! Watch your language or you'll go straight to detention! And get off the floor." Mr. Thomson looked annoyed, for quite possibly the first time I'd ever seen and I, as hastily as I could, stood up and grabbed my bag from where it had fallen from my shoulder and crashed to the ground, some of its contents spilling out to the floor.
I gingerly made my way to my seat, wondering what part of my body hurt worse, my head or my hip. My ego wasn't a problem anymore; it remained firmly attached to the cold, tile floor. Not that I'd had much left to begin with, but still, the entire class laughing at me looking, once again, like a moron...well, it sucked. I kept my eyes firmly cast on my textbook all throughout the lecture while the occasional bout of giggling popped up around the classroom. Great. How had I ever thought today was even a semi-happy day?
I waited in my seat until all of class shuffled out afterwards. Josh and Randy snickered as they left, Josh throwing me a devilish smile. I hoped whatever he'd felt I'd "deserved" had been accomplished, and he'd leave me alone for awhile. The teacher gave me a last reproachful look as I left his room, muttering an apology for my earlier outburst. With no one staying behind to further torment me, I made my way to art class in peace.
We'd finished our "feels like home" projects awhile ago and I'd turned in a nice portrait of Sawyer that had actually earned me an A. Last year, I'd planned on art being an easy, goofing off together class for Darren, Sammy, Lil and me, but I found that I actually had a skill in it. Mrs. Solheim praised whatever piece I turned in, offering a few suggestions and helpful comments, although she still, more often than not, called me Tom. I even found myself responding to the name on more than a few occasions.
Currently, we were working on abstract art, and I found myself working in varying shades of gray that highly complimented Sawyer's eyes. I usually painted or drew something that reminded me of her; it made the class more enjoyable for me than trying to channel my artistic feelings toward my long gone friends. Sawyer was peace. Sawyer was comfort. And I hoped against all hope that when I saw Sawyer after class, she'd have something to help with the splitting headache that Josh had given me when he smacked my skull into the floor.
Mrs. Solheim walked around the class while other students diligently worked on their projects, offering tips for emphasizing the style. She passed by me and patted my shoulder, muttering, "Good work, Tom," and I smiled and bit back a chuckle as she continued walking through the room.
Halfway through the class, I felt like dying. A tender spot on the back of my head was throbbing, and every pulse of blood made my forehead feel like it was trying to expand outwards...and failing. I was sure something inside of me was broken.
Biting my lip and stopping myself from asking for a pass to see the nurse, I somehow made it through the rest of that class. I shuffled out, rubbing my temples, and came upon Sawyer outside of the building, waiting for me. Her jet black hair was still in a sleek ponytail and she had her hands shoved in my letterman's jacket pockets. She was looking back at the choir room, chewing a piece of gum and watching Brittany leave the class with a handful of fawning girls, most of them in their cheerleader outfits for the pep rally.
I walked up beside her and glumly said, "Hey". She startled from whatever she was thinking about and looked over at my cringing face.
"God, you look like shit. What happened?" Her brows scrunched as she searched for some external injury.
I sighed and squeezed the bridge of my nose, hoping to somehow stop the pounding. "Oh, I just had a run-in...with the floor."
"The floor? Huh?"
I dropped my hand from my nose and adjusted the strap of my backpack on my shoulder. "It was nothing, just Josh proving that he's big man on campus now...and he hates my guts." I shook my head angrily, which caused pain to slice all the way down my shoulders. "Nothing I didn't already know."
Her mouth dropped as she gaped at me. "He finally attacked you? In class?" Her hands came to my head, feeling around for bumps. I sucked in a breath when she found the tender spot on the back.
I gently removed her hands. "It's fine. He just, sort of tackled me and I smacked my head. I'm fine, really. It was more embarrassing than anything, him catching me off guard like that."
Her jaw set in anger and for a moment I worried that she was going to try and find Josh, to get even or something. "That little prick!" Then her face relaxed as she looked over me again. "We should get you to the nurse, you could have a concussion."
I laughed softly and she twisted her lips at me. "I don't think he hit me that hard. I could use some Advil or something. I have a raging headache."
Her face brightened. "Oh, I have Aspirin."
She dug through her bag while I reached back in mine and grabbed the half empty water bottle from my lunch. She found a little white container and opening it, dug out a couple. I popped them without looking and swigged my water. "Thanks," I muttered after polishing off the rest of my water. My body hoped the damn things kicked in soon.
"Sure." She looked over me again, almost looking like my mom for a moment, and then she grabbed my elbow and pulled me toward the gym. I looked at her weird and she sighed, then explained. "The purity club is promoting safety at the rally. We're all supposed to be there, encouraging kids to join in the 'clean' fun." She twisted her lips and looked glum as she pulled me towards the rally.
"And why aren't we just skipping it?" I asked, equally as glum.
"Because my parents found out about it and think it's a great idea." She looked at me dryly. "They told Ms. Reynolds to call if I ditched." She rolled her eyes. "Apparently, she agreed."
Now I rolled my eyes, but followed her. If she had to sit through hell, I'd sit with her. We entered the gym and I took in the familiarity of it with a pang. I hadn't been in here yet this year. I clearly saw a remembered version of Darren and Sammy and Lil goofing off on one of the bleachers that lined the lacquered floor. Darren was standing on the floor in front of them, proudly wearing his football jersey, cupping his hands and shouting at the cheerleaders to flip their skirts up. Sammy, sitting on the bleacher behind him, smacked his ass, laughing at his display, and rolling her eyes at Lillian, who was laughing beside her and waving across the gym to where I'd been about to walk over to them in my memory.
"Luc?" I looked over at Sawyer watching me. "Are you okay? Does your head feel better?"
I smiled lazily and nodded. Actually, my headache was receding. Actually, I was starting to feel really nice, almost light and airy. I smiled wider and put my hand on her shoulder. She nodded back at me and we started walking down the line of bleachers to the end. I heard several derogatory shouts being made at me, both coming from the stands and the floor, where the team was gathering for the event, but I ignored them. I felt nice and I was going to hold on to that feeling for as long as I could.
There were enough teachers and staff around that we made it to the far side of the gym without being accosted. We waved at Ms. Reynolds as we passed her, so she'd know we were here, then we snuck past the other purity club members and ducked into the slim space between the last section of bleachers and the wall. Once there, we slumped against the wall to sit on the floor. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes, waiting for the swelling of school spirit to be over with.
Resting like that, my head started to swim and I felt a little dizzy as the music of the band piped up and was answered with a resounding roar from the student body. The students on the bleachers directly across from where we were sitting on the floor starting hollering and stomping their feet; the pep rally had begun. I suddenly didn't care that we were here...here was nice. As the sounds of someone on a microphone introducing members of the team filled my ears, I reached over and grabbed Sawyer's hand.
I smiled as my head drifted into a pleasant fog...here was very nice.
Chapter 6
Strike One
Soft. Smooth. Small. Perfect.
My fingers traced lines over Sawyer's hand and I felt another smile creep over my face. The smile felt huge to me and I felt peace wash over my body as that smile spread even farther. Over the noise of the surprisingly loud gym, I heard Sawyer's musical voice asking me if I was feeling better. Hmmm...I was, so much better. I nodded at her and noticed how disconnected that movement felt from the rest of my body. It was almost like my head wasn't mine. I chuckled at the thought and did it again.
I laughed again and turned my head side to side, enjoying how light and sluggish it felt to do that. It was like my brain was two seconds behind my head. I giggled and looked over to Sawyer's direction. Slowly opening my eyes, that oddly felt heavy compared with the rest of my head, I saw Sawyer knitting her eyebrows together. The look wasn't at all like the peace I felt, and wanting her to relax, I brought my hands up and tried to smooth out the worry lines. I cupped her cheeks with my hands and stretched my thumbs over her brows and forehead. Her brows knitted further as I tried to flatten them and I laughed again. Her skin was like silk under my fingertips and I gave up on trying to relax her expression and felt that silkiness with all of my suddenly sensitive digits.