tight.
Without realizing it, Josh has invaded my brain. I am consumed by the few minutes that I was in his arms. I am consumed by him. I am taken aback by my reaction to him.
I lose track of time. When I finally do pull my head out of the clouds, I notice that we are already an hour into class and still no Ms. Wright. Something isn’t right. She is not the type of person to forget or miss a class without an adequate replacement. I rise from my seat with the intention of walking to the office to find out what is going on. As I begin down the aisle, the door bursts open, and a very flushed Ms. Wright enters the room. She glances at the mass of bodies lingering in places they need not be and raises an eyebrow. She glances at me and smiles. Well, I never knew Ms. Wright has a mysterious side, but it’s written all over her face. I turn and proceed back to my chair before her mood shifts, and I sure as hell don’t want to be the one in the firing line.
She clears her throat, and in full Wright fashion, she commands the room with her deep, one too many cigarettes, voice. The students scamper to their seats without argument. Sitting, I watch her gather her composure once again, and my drifts to the altercation with Josh. I have to focus. With Ms. Wright’s late arrival, there is only 30 minutes left in class, so I should be able to hold myself back for a little while longer. I open my textbook, ready to start some pop quiz she decided we needed to do today. Honestly, I thought pop quizzes were for first years and below, but I was so wrong.
I don’t have a lesson for second period, so I decide now it would be great time to finally empty and clean out my locker. I take the walk back to the main hall, making sure that I don’t bump into any grumpy graduates. Entering the hallway, I notice that I am the only one in this area. Thank the Lord for that. Some quiet time is what I need.
As I approach my locker, I remember the piece of paper lodged in the vent. Now, if only I could remember my code. I knew I should have tattooed the dang thing my wrist. It would have been so much easier. After struggling with the numbers for about 2 minutes, Bingo! I get the right combo, and as I click the lock up and open the door, the piece of paper falls like a butterfly with broken wings. I breathe deeply, reach down, and retrieve it from the floor.
At first glance, I notice it is not what I previously thought. The edges are uneven as if it was torn straight out of a notebook. I feel the bumps of the lettering as I work the note between my fingers. I have never received anything like this, and I’m sure how I should feel about it. I am eager to see who it is from, but not so much to see what is written.
I hold the note for a few minutes, turning it over and over in my hands. Staring at my name written so neatly just above the crease, I begin to unfold the scrap of paper, and a chill runs through me. I hesitate once more before opening the letter. Goose pimples rain over my body. Taking a cleansing breath, I begin to open the paper to reveal a handwritten note addressed to me.
What the hell?
Is this from the same person who could not stand the sight of me this morning? This is confusing. I am trying to rationalize this in my head, but it is not working. How presumptuous of him that I don’t have plans this afternoon. How the hell does he know I don’t have classes? Frozen to the spot, I reread the scrap of paper over and over again, but the more I read it, the angrier I become. Why am I angry? I don’t understand it.
Mik e is one of only three people who knows what happened all those years ago. I came out and told him about a year after meeting him and Katie. I had a meltdown when my mother showed up asking me to come back home, and as usual, she had one of her misfit boyfriends with her. They witnessed it all. They witnessed my body, mind, and soul shut down at the sight of her. I know Josh was there, but
Without realizing it, Josh has invaded my brain. I am consumed by the few minutes that I was in his arms. I am consumed by him. I am taken aback by my reaction to him.
I lose track of time. When I finally do pull my head out of the clouds, I notice that we are already an hour into class and still no Ms. Wright. Something isn’t right. She is not the type of person to forget or miss a class without an adequate replacement. I rise from my seat with the intention of walking to the office to find out what is going on. As I begin down the aisle, the door bursts open, and a very flushed Ms. Wright enters the room. She glances at the mass of bodies lingering in places they need not be and raises an eyebrow. She glances at me and smiles. Well, I never knew Ms. Wright has a mysterious side, but it’s written all over her face. I turn and proceed back to my chair before her mood shifts, and I sure as hell don’t want to be the one in the firing line.
She clears her throat, and in full Wright fashion, she commands the room with her deep, one too many cigarettes, voice. The students scamper to their seats without argument. Sitting, I watch her gather her composure once again, and my drifts to the altercation with Josh. I have to focus. With Ms. Wright’s late arrival, there is only 30 minutes left in class, so I should be able to hold myself back for a little while longer. I open my textbook, ready to start some pop quiz she decided we needed to do today. Honestly, I thought pop quizzes were for first years and below, but I was so wrong.
I don’t have a lesson for second period, so I decide now it would be great time to finally empty and clean out my locker. I take the walk back to the main hall, making sure that I don’t bump into any grumpy graduates. Entering the hallway, I notice that I am the only one in this area. Thank the Lord for that. Some quiet time is what I need.
As I approach my locker, I remember the piece of paper lodged in the vent. Now, if only I could remember my code. I knew I should have tattooed the dang thing my wrist. It would have been so much easier. After struggling with the numbers for about 2 minutes, Bingo! I get the right combo, and as I click the lock up and open the door, the piece of paper falls like a butterfly with broken wings. I breathe deeply, reach down, and retrieve it from the floor.
At first glance, I notice it is not what I previously thought. The edges are uneven as if it was torn straight out of a notebook. I feel the bumps of the lettering as I work the note between my fingers. I have never received anything like this, and I’m sure how I should feel about it. I am eager to see who it is from, but not so much to see what is written.
I hold the note for a few minutes, turning it over and over in my hands. Staring at my name written so neatly just above the crease, I begin to unfold the scrap of paper, and a chill runs through me. I hesitate once more before opening the letter. Goose pimples rain over my body. Taking a cleansing breath, I begin to open the paper to reveal a handwritten note addressed to me.
What the hell?
Is this from the same person who could not stand the sight of me this morning? This is confusing. I am trying to rationalize this in my head, but it is not working. How presumptuous of him that I don’t have plans this afternoon. How the hell does he know I don’t have classes? Frozen to the spot, I reread the scrap of paper over and over again, but the more I read it, the angrier I become. Why am I angry? I don’t understand it.
Mik e is one of only three people who knows what happened all those years ago. I came out and told him about a year after meeting him and Katie. I had a meltdown when my mother showed up asking me to come back home, and as usual, she had one of her misfit boyfriends with her. They witnessed it all. They witnessed my body, mind, and soul shut down at the sight of her. I know Josh was there, but
Similar Books
Death of Innocence : The Story of the Hate Crime That Changed America (9781588363244)
Jesse Rev (FRW) Christopher; Jackson Mamie; Benson Till-Mobley
