by Amy Sumida
“Not into pet names, huh? You got a deal.”He smiled and gestured for me to lead the way out of the room.
As we walked out of class, he waved someone over. I peered up at the scary one, Matt. His muscles bulged even bigger when he stood less than a foot away. I arched my neck back to meet his eyes.
“Is the air thinner up there?” My eyes widened, and I almost choked. I couldn’t believe I said that. Stupid. What was wrong with me today?
“No,” he replied.
I paused mentally, not sure if he got the humor in my question or not.
Alex threw his arm around my shoulders, and I almost winced. “We’re walking Joey to her next class.”
Matt grunted. They both stared at me.
“What?” Uncomfortable, I studied my shoes as I pulled at the hem of my red turtleneck.
“Where’s your next class?” Alex asked.
“Oh, Calculus, it’s down the hallway to the left.” I restrained myself from smacking my forehead. I was an idiot.
As they guided me toward my class, girls glared at us as we passed them in the hallway. I sped up in order to make it to class faster, and Matt grabbed my backpack to keep me from running into someone. As the straps of the bag dug into my shoulders, pain shot up my spine. I yelped.
“Dude, she took a fall this weekend. She’s hurt,” Alex told him.
Matt raised a brow at Alex, who nodded. They shared a look I didn’t understand, and before I could do anything to stop it, Matt took my backpack.
“Hey!” I grabbed for it, but he held it out of reach and kept walking. With no other options in sight, I followed him.
After making it to my class, I tried to snatch my bag from Matt, but he shook his head. He walked into my class, scanned the room, and marched to an empty spot. He dropped my bag next to the desk and nodded toward it. “Sit.”
I huffed at him. “I’m not a dog, you know.”
He smiled, then he patted me on the head. The nerve. He glanced over to the desk next to the one he chose for me, nodded, and left the room.
I stood there like a complete goober for a minute before I sat down. Peering over my shoulder to my left, I caught a glimpse of who Matt had nodded at.
Jesus, they were everywhere. The quiet one, Jaidon, sat in the desk next to mine. He nodded at me, turned, and immersed himself in his book, Grapes of Wrath. Good choice.
Glad to be left alone, I busied myself getting out my book, pencil, and calculator out of my bag. I struggled the most in this class; my brain occasionally tried to mutiny when I attempted to wrap it around the numbers and formulas.
~
Class dragged like it usually did. When the bell rang, I packed up my books and stood. Jaidon blocked my exit.
“You ready?” His voice sounded the way rich, dark chocolate tastes.
“For what?” My eyebrows rose in question.
“I’m walking you to lunch.”
“Since when?”
“Since now.” He held up his phone, showing me a text from Matt.
BRING JOEY TO LUNCH. He text-yelled for Jaiden to bring me to lunch. That was it; they were crazy.
I reached for my bag, but before I could grab it, Jaidon slung it over his shoulder and walked toward the classroom door. So that was their plan? Hold my bag hostage?
I followed Jaidon out of the class, and we walked toward the cafeteria.
“So, are you guys just going to keep me following you all day by taking my bag everywhere?”
He shrugged, then nodded. “Probably. You made an impression this morning. We’re deciding whether to keep you or not.”
“Keep me?”
He nodded again. “Yeah, you know, keep you around.”
Now, I knew I must be crazy because a small part of me actually hoped they did.
Walking beside Jaidon, we didn’t talk, but then again, it only took a few minutes to get to the cafeteria. He held the door open for me as we slid into the lunchroom. His hand on the small of my back guided me into the room, but I froze because the touch of anyone made me pause. At least his touch didn’t make my skin crawl.
He pulled his hand away. “Sorry.”
“No, it’s fine.” I tried to reassure him, but my voice cracked, undermining my intentions.
He glanced around and nodded his head toward a table with most of the guys sitting at it. “Over there.”
I sighed. Apparently, I needed to sit with the guys at lunch. I shuffled over to the table and tried to sit on the end, but they had other plans.
“You, sit here.” Matt pointed to a seat between him and Bishop.
The guy spoke like a caveman. Ugg, smash! You sit. You stay. As I eased myself onto the bench, I smiled at the mental picture of Matt dressed like Fred Flintstone. Usually, I attempted to appear normal when I dealt with the aftereffects of one of Dad’s beatings, but these guys already knew I was hurt. I used the excuse of my fall to baby my bruises a little.
Bishop turned to me, stuffing his mouth full of peanut butter crackers. “So, what are you going to get for lunch?”
Reaching into my bag, I pulled out my sandwich and the apple. “I brought PB&J.”
He smiled. “Classic.” He held out his fist, and I stared at it for a second before I made a fist and bumped his. “But that can’t be all you’ve got. Where’s the rest?”
I pulled out a bottle of water.
He rocked back, appalled, hands clutching his chest. “That’s all?”
Alex leaned across the table in front of me. “Joey, you should know Bishop is a vacuum. He eats constantly and thinks everyone else should, too.”
That made sense. From what I witnessed today, he ate at every opportunity.
Jaidon came back to the table with a tray he slid onto the table next to Alex. As soon as Jaidon sat down, Alex, Bishop, and Matt stood and went for food. I assumed they wanted someone at the table to make sure I didn’t bolt. Smart move on their part.
Stetson slid into the seat next to Jaidon, sitting across from me. “Hey babe, what’s up?”
“Not much. You’re in Alex’s seat.”
“View’s better here, so I’m keeping it.” He wiggled his eyebrows at me. Yep, still didn’t like him. He seemed too used to getting his way, and his way probably involved something designed to get good girls in trouble. I wanted no part of that.
“Suit yourself.” I turned toward Jaidon. “Did you understand how to do the last problem in Calculus?”
“Yeah, I’ll show you after you eat.” He gestured toward my food.
“Thanks.” I shot him a small smile.
The others join us again at the table. Matt and Bishop sat on both sides of me, and Alex took the seat next to Stetson. I noticed Matt crammed three helpings of almost everything onto his tray. I guess it takes a lot of calories to keep up all those muscles. Shockingly, Bishop’s tray was piled almost as high as Matt’s.
The guys ate silently, which suited me fine. When Jaidon finished eating, he got out his Calculus notes and showed me how to solve the problem, explaining each step. He seemed more confident than earlier; math must be easier for him than talking to people.
The bell rang for the next class, and I stood, hoping to get away. Stetson reached out and looped his fingers around my wrist. I flinched back and pulled my wrist to my chest. He froze and peered over my shoulder at Matt.
Stetson raised his hands slowly, showing he meant no harm. “What’s your next class, sweetie.”
I put my hand down and tried to pretend nothing happened. “English, with your dad.”
“I’ve got it, too,” Bishop said. “I’ll walk with you.”
“Okay,” I stammered, “but I need to stop by my locker on the way.”
Without a good reason, I kept giving in too easily. It shocked me because it went against everything I trained myself to do or not do. Being near these guys brought more unwanted attention to me, but my heart didn’t pound as hard when I found myself in their company. I somehow knew I would be safe with them. I
haven’t been safe in four years, longer, if I’m honest with myself.
I walked to my locker in a haze, swapping out two more classes worth of books into my bag, and before I could get it onto my back, Bishop grabbed it.
“Okay, what is it with you guys and carrying my bag?”
“We like to be helpful. Plus, I heard you had a fall. How did that happen?”
“Nothing serious, I tripped going down some stairs,” I lied.
We made it to Mr. Keeler’s class. I walked to the desk I wanted, and Bishop followed in my wake. He placed my bag at my side after I sat, then he took the seat behind me.
Chapter Two
Tattoo
Mr. Keeler greeted students as they entered the room, while I got out my binder and textbook. As the class bell rang, Mr. Keeler gestured for everyone to take their seats. He cleared his throat and took role. When he got to my name, he glanced at me and smiled.
“Welcome, all, to my class. As you know, Ms. Guthrie retired at the beginning of Winter Break. I’ll be your new AP English teacher. Now, for this class, you’ll need to create a study group. It doesn’t have to be only people from this class, it can contain members from any of my three AP level classes. You’ll make a group of at least five people, and I’ll need a weekly record of your meetings and what you studied. This is a college level course, so remember to study like you are in college.”
Because I loved English in general, class flew by, and Mr. Keeler made it even more funny and interesting. The first short story he assigned featured the history of a town as told by the residents of the local graveyard. The whole class cracked up when a particularly curmudgeonly corpse spent half a page describing his hatred for the woman who let her dog do his business on his grave every morning. Mr. Keeler joked with us and made the work seem like a natural progression of the class discussion. Even though he assigned over fifteen pages of reading and note taking tonight, I knew I wasn’t the only one excited to spend the afternoon in the library.
At the end of class, he gave us a few minutes to find partners for our study group. I sat there, meaning to talk to Mr. Keeler at the end of class about doing the group work on my own, when a tap on my shoulder startled me.
I turned and found Bishop smiling gloriously at me. Really, it belonged on toothpaste commercials. “So... study buddy?”
How could I say no to that smile? “Sure. What about the other three people we need?”
“No problem, my brothers can study with us.”
“They’re all in AP?” I asked.
He tilted his head to the side, raising an eyebrow with an expression that clearly begged me to stop being simple. “Our dad is the teacher, what do you think?”
“Ask a stupid question,” I mumbled under my breath. I shook my head to clear it as the bell rang. Time for Chemistry.
Bishop took the opportunity to walk me to class, pulling the door open for me and gesturing with his arm like a gallant knight. I held my breath as I walked in, a bit excited to find out which of the guys would be in here with me, but they must not have chemistry this period. Part of me fought off disappointment, I was getting used to them. Why was I getting used to them? My feelings toward the guys made no sense. I’m not one to get attached to people at all, much less so quickly. Shaking my head to clear my mind, I found my seat and prepared for class.
I took notes through chemistry and tried my best to ignore David Todd, who sat in the row beside mine. My only competition for valedictorian, he also happened to be the biggest jerk in the world.
Only a couple of inches taller than me, David’s scrawny frame made him seem awkward. Since some see me as a little bit plumper than most consider strictly fashionable, I don’t really have any standing when it comes to discussing weight, but he was skin and bones. He kept his black hair in a severe buzz cut, and his thick black framed glasses, a little too big for his face, sat crooked on his nose. His habit of smacking his lips when he talked made a shiver snake up my spine every time, and he constantly cleaned his glasses.
For some reason, David decided to give me the title of his nemesis. His mission in life was to put me down and make me feel stupid and ugly. I don’t know what I did to him, but whatever it was, he refused to let it go.
I tried to scoot out of class with the rest of the herd, but David caught up to me after only a few seconds. “Hey, Tubbo!”
Keeping my head down, I tried to ignore him. “Hey, I’m talking to you, Fatty. Are you deaf as well as dumb?”
I kept walking.
He grabbed onto my bag and jerked me back. I bit back a yelp. “You know the obesity epidemic is on the rise, your doctor can give you something to help you with your not-so-little problem”
I rolled my eyes and tried to step away. He held fast to my bag. For a little dude, he maintained quite a grip. “I saw you walking with the new kids, trying to find a friend?”
“Let go of me.”
“You know, it’ll never work. No one will want you until you lose that extra fifty pounds, you know.”
Fifty pounds, my ass. “Let go of me,” I said, more firmly this time.
A teacher glared over at us, and he let go. “No problem, just wanted to check and see how your break went. I’m sure you had a great time sitting on your fat butt and eating all day, that is when you weren’t too busy asking ‘do you want fries with that?’ of course.”
I’ll never understand how working at a fast food restaurant was something I should be ashamed of. Then again, I attended a school where most kids grew up with money and didn’t need to work, but a lot of students did.
Suddenly, an arm went around my shoulder, and I smelled some amazing cologne. “He givin’ you problems, babe?” Stetson. Great, just what I need in this situation.
“No problems,” I answered. “I was headed to class.” David paled at the glare on Stetson’s face and took off.
“Cool, I’ll walk you. Where to?”
“Art.”
“Sweet, me, too. Let’s go, babe.”
“I’ve decided I really don’t like all the pet names you guys call me. My name is Joey, please use it.”
“Sure thing, sweet cheeks.”
I almost growled. Instead, I stormed off toward class. At least he let me carry my own bag.
Even though I liked to paint and draw, I would never be what you would consider great at it. The setup of the art classroom was awesome. No desks cluttered the space; instead, long tables circled the room with benches to sit on. The whole room smelled of markers and turpentine. Random paint splotches splattered everything in the room: red and green on the tables and the benches, white and purple on the floor, neon orange and green on the walls, even some kaleidoscopic mix on the ceiling.
I paused for only a moment when Stetson followed me into the class. As I knew he would, he sat down next to me. In the center of the tables sat a stack of blank sketch books, which our art teacher, Mrs. Ellis, said would be our textbooks for the semester.
Of course, for the first assignment, she tasked us to study the person next to us and draw something that signified our first impression of that person. Great. This was not going to be good. I focused on the tattoo, a beautiful, medieval-style dragon’s head in reds, greens, and blues, sticking up from his collar,. My fingers itched to reach out and touch it. Instead, I did my best to draw the beauty of the tattoo. I tried to do a decent job of capturing the way it angled up over his tanned collarbone toward his throat.
His pencil moved deftly across his sketchpad, and I wondered what aspect of me he would draw. I hope it wasn’t my hair. Long and curly, I could never get it straight. I suppose he could draw my whole face, but I’m not sure what I would think about that either. A bit rounder than I’d like, my face didn’t exactly inspire a thousand troops to march into battle. I didn’t have a double chin or anything; though, I did carry some of my extra weight in my face. There really isn’t much in me to be of interest to anyone. I’m short and proportionately curvy which grated on my nerves so
metimes. When I find a shirt able to be buttoned over my boobs, it hung off of me everywhere else. Although, once I started trying to blend in, the bagginess ended up helping.
I sketched the parts of the tattoo able to be seen, but I needed to get a look at the rest of it.
“Um, Stetson?” I blurted. “Could you please…” I took a deep breath, “unbuttonyourshirtalittle?” I said it all as one word, somehow doing so made it less embarrassing.
He studied me for a long time, trying to decide whether or not to make a wisecrack. He noticed my sketch, then gazed back at me. And I got to hear the angels sing as I watched a smile appear on his face. A real smile, not a smirk or leer, but an honest, joyous smile. I understood why some people could be tempted to sell their souls to the devil. He wasn’t anything I should want, but in this moment, I did want him with every fiber of my being.
“Sure, Joey.”Of course, now he uses my name.
He unbuttoned a few buttons and twisted the shirt, leaving the opening over his left pec. The scent of his cologne, warmed by his skin, caressed my senses, and I fought to keep my eyes from closing. Sweet baby Jesus. To call his chest muscles well defined would be to call Superman kind of strong. The dragon covered his entire pec, swooping up toward his shoulder. I glanced at the tattoo sticking out of his sleeve and noticed it must be the tip of the dragon’s tail. The dragon clutched something in its claws. Before I could stop myself, I leaned forward for a better view. A small, purple lily lay cradled in the dragon’s grip. I clenched my fist to keep my fingers from running over his smooth skin. I settled back onto the bench and got back to work.
We worked in a comfortable silence for about thirty minutes. The end of class fast approached, and Mrs. Ellis told us to show our partners our sketches. I flipped the sketchbook over to show him what I managed to get done on the dragon, and he turned his sketch pad around.
Shocked into stillness, my eyes glued to the paper in front of me, I didn’t know what to say. He drew my whole face with my wild curly hair surrounding it. I smiled a tiny smile and stared off into the distance. But, it wasn’t the smile that caught my attention. My breath shook as I peered into my own eyes. They were tormented. Filled with pain. Could he really see that? Could all of them?