8| Mystery
I got to school the next day, holding my coffee in my hand as I do every day.
I got seated for class and put my head down on the table, craving the sleep I missed out on.
I'm not a coffee drinker but I am when I've lost sleep.
Let's just say after Emma dropped me home, things took a turn for the worst.
I first had to sit through what felt like hours of yelling and get lectured, and then I said something, the problem is I don't remember what I said.
But I said something disrespectful that earned me a few smacks to the face and a cut on my cheek.
My dad is a single parent, my parents got divorced when I was around 3 years old and he's not very nice, let's just say that. We have issues.
"Hey," Brandon said, taking the seat next to mine for the time being. "Whoa, what happened to you?" he asked, looking at my face. I rolled my eyes, sliding the coffee cup around the table. "Did you fight someone?" I shook my head. "Did your dad hit you again?" he lowered his voice.
"Don't bring it up, man. I deserved it this time around, I must have said something disrespectful," I mumbled.
"I will never understand what makes him think it's okay to hit you, you can keep looking for excuses," he rolled his eyes, moving over to his seat as the door opened.
She came and sat in her seat, not even sparing me a glance.
While she was shuffling around her bag for her notebook, she dropped her pen.
She clicked her tongue in frustration, looking at it on the floor between our seats.
I bent down, retrieving it for her and handing it to her.
"Thanks," she mumbled, taking it from my fingers, "What happened to you? "
I looked up, noticing her looking at my face. "I fell," I lied.
"On someone's fist?" she asked, raising her brows sharply.
I glanced at Brandon who was looking at me daringly. I can't get out of this one. "It's a mystery, leave it at that," I mumbled as Mr. Cole walked in.
"Okay, we're gonna pick up where we left off last class, so please continue writing and once you're done, just leave your papers here in a pile, make sure your names are on there," he instructed. I'm so lost. "Mr. Sterling, you weren't here. Emma, please explain the task to him."
We turned to each other, "Um, we're just writing a short story based on any one of these 3 prompts," she slid her notebook over. I read over the three prompts. Graveyard, amusement park, and cafe.
"Descriptive?" I asked.
"Or narrative, your choice. Just choose a location and a style of writing. The word limit is 1000."
"1000 words on one of these locations?" I asked. That's so boring.
"Mr. Sterling, I want this in by tomorrow please." I nodded in understanding before getting to work. I don't know why everyone thinks I'm one of those students who doesn't do any of the work. I do all my work. As long as I feel like it, which right now, I really don't.
I groaned, pushing the chair against the wall behind me, rocking it back and forth. "Which prompt are you doing?" I whispered.
"A cafe," she answered without looking up.
"Narrative?"
"No, descriptive," she mumbled, focused on her work.
"Why are you such a goody? Always doing your work," I groaned.
She turned to me, giving me a subtle glare. "Is there anything better for me to do?" she questioned. I shrugged in response. "Oh, what am I supposed to do? Talk to you?" she scoffed.
"You could," I replied.
"You're actually gonna talk to me? Yeah, right," she rolled her eyes.
"Why is that so hard for you to believe?"
"Cause," she cleared her throat, "I don't make any friends," she said mockingly, talking in a deep voice.
"I do not sound like that."
I don't, right?
"Uh, yeah you do. Just do your work, Nathan," she whispered, resuming her writing.
I sighed, starting the writing, choosing to do the cafe as my prompt too. It's easy to write about a chaotic place whether it be descriptive or narrative.
When we had about ten minutes left, she went and handed her work in before sitting back down. I decided to finish the rest later and put the paper away, sighing while putting my head down. "Nathan," she whispered. I lifted my head up, looking at her. "What really happened to your face?"
"I hit a pole."
"What were you doing by a pole? Pole dancing?" she asked sarcastically. I gave her a blank look. "That was funnier in my head, sorry. Seriously, did you like... fight someone?"
I groaned, "Why does everyone assume I'm fighting someone?"
"You just give off that vibe, what happened to you?" She is very persistent, it's kind of annoying.
"I didn't fight anybody, that's all that matters. And like I told you, it's a mystery, leave it at that," I rolled my eyes.
"I don't like mysteries, I like solving them."
I let out a frustrated breath, glaring at her. "Don't push your luck."
"Luck exists to be pushed," she reasoned.
When I ignored her and put my head back down, she sighed in defeat.
"Jesus, all right, I'll get it out of you someday.
" The bell rang moments later and everyone filed out of their classes, heading for the next one.
"What do you have?" I heard her asking Kendall.
"I've got art, I'll see you after that, okay?"
"After that?" she asked in confusion.
"Business studies," Kendall replied.
"Okay, see you." I realized I was stopped in the hallway, listening to her rather than walking with Brandon.
Who had already left?
"What class do you have?" she asked me.
"Gym class," I answered, starting to walk, falling into step beside her.
"Does that mean I'm alone in Math?" she groaned.
"Have fun doing math," I scoffed.
"Have fun getting sweaty," she taunted before turning left to the staircase.
I continued straight, taking the staircase at the end of the hall that led to the boys' locker room directly.
Once I got there, I tossed my bag in my locker and shook the hood off.
I shook my head, shaking my hair out before I pulled the hoodie off.
I tossed it in my locker, shuffling around for my jersey but I couldn't see it anywhere.
After looking around for a while, I finally found it. I pulled it over my head, traded my jeans for the shorts, and then pulled the shoes on. "What are we doing today?" I asked Brandon.
"Track."
"You're fucking kidding me," I groaned, "Don't we have practice today too?"
He nodded, "Yeah, but Coach won't be there. So there's not gonna be any actual practice happening. It's just gonna be the team hanging around," he shrugged, pulling his shirt on. "And you can't just go back home."
I sighed, closing my locker before propping my foot up on the bench and quickly tying my laces. "It's just 45 minutes of running, we might as well be running the mile today," I said, walking out into the field with the others.
"Boys, change of plans. We're running the mile."
Brandon glared at me, "You fucking jinxed it." I rolled my eyes, taking my shirt off while more than half of the team did the same. Emma jinxed it, she's the one who said 'have fun getting sweaty.' As if that didn't happen enough during regular gym class, we're now running the freaking mile.
Coach blew the whistle and we all started running.
"What really happened last night with your dad?" Brandon asked.
"I got drunk," I said, scratching my eyebrow, "And apparently Emma lives like three houses down from mine because she found me and took me back home. In that drunken state. Who else was gonna open the door?" I scoffed.
"How did you get out of the house that drunk without him noticing?"
"I jumped out my window," I answered.
"Again?" he asked.
"Yeah," I shrugged. After three laps around the field, Brandon and I both saw Emma walking over to our Coach. She was squinting under the sun, her hand trying to block out the rays. She said something to Coach who nodded in understanding before looking at us as we ran.
"Nathan, come here!" he yelled.
I stopped running, pointing at myself, "Me?" I stopped running abruptly which caused everybody behind me to run into me and each other. She looked down, biting back a laugh while everyone cursed at me.
"Idiot, get over here!" Coach yelled. I jogged over to them, standing there in confusion. "Emma said something about one of your teachers looking for you, I don't know, see to it," he said before yelling at the people who weren't really running.
"Who's looking for me?" I asked.
She didn't answer. She stared though, she definitely stared at my upper naked half.
.
.
.
.
.