Chapter 5 #2
I stopped and turned my head at the sight of an open locker to my left.
I scanned the silent room again before stepping forward and eyeing the soaps inside.
I prayed for forgiveness as I stole the bottles and as quickly as my feet could take me, I entered one of the shower stalls and drew the curtain.
It took me a while to strip my clothes, but once I had, I cranked the water as high as it would go and stepped beneath the hot water.
I stood there, letting the soothing water roll off my body until I remembered that I needed to finish before people returned.
I was afraid to look at myself and see the extent of the damage done.
I couldn’t stomach the sight of the bruises that were forming when I attempted to clean the dried, flaking blood from myself in the public bathroom two days ago.
I kept my eyes screwed shut as I cleaned myself from head to toe seven times.
It didn’t feel like enough, and I wondered if it ever would, so I forced myself to stop and shut off the water.
“Fuck,” I hissed as I searched for a nonexistent towel. Paper towels would have to suffice.
The damn paper towels were just falling apart and sticking to me, so I gave up and decided to assess the clothes that I had while I air-dried.
I sighed, grimacing in pain, and pulled on Javier’s baggy long sleeve shirt and a pair of black leggings.
In my haste to shove whatever I could into my backpack, I hadn’t packed any clean underwear, bras or socks.
I grabbed some more paper towels to line my shoes, as if it would help.
After shoving my clothes back into my bag, I faced the mirror and immediately frowned.
The cut on my lip was still visible, scabbed over, but visible, and light green bruises were scattered around my lip, under my eyes, and across the bridge of my nose.
It looked like someone had tried to shave a chunk of my brow off or something, and not in a fashionable way.
My hair was wet and stringy and sticking to my neck, leaving puddles of dampness on the shirt that was three sizes too big.
Great, now it’s obvious I’m braless. Whatever. I think that’s a trend now.
I licked my chapped lips, cringing at how disgustingly badly I needed to brush my teeth.
I decided to keep the soaps I’d stolen. It was a crime of opportunity, I reasoned.
If she didn’t want her shit stolen, she shouldn’t have left her locker open.
I stole her deodorant too before rushing to escape the locker room.
If I couldn’t save my bad breath, I at least wanted to ensure I wouldn’t smell like a thirteen-year-old boy.
It took me a moment to remember which class I had first before I grabbed my English textbook from my locker, which I was grateful had remained at school on Friday.
There were already several students in the classroom as I gingerly lowered myself into my seat.
I could feel the occasional glance in my direction, but I just kept my head down, letting my wet hair block my face as I crouched over my desk.
My chest tightened with guilt as I struggled to pay attention in class.
I knew Javier would have been disappointed in me, but I couldn’t help but doze.
The few hours of sleep I’d obtained over the last three nights was finally catching up to me.
And all I could think about was the free school lunch I’d be receiving in a few hours’ time.
I just needed to make it until then. I needed to be strong for Javier and make it until then. So, I trudged mindlessly from class to class not bothering to participate as I drifted in and out of awareness. When the bell rang for lunch, I couldn’t contain the excitement that erupted inside of me.
I savored every single bite of the hot food I had been served in the lunch line.
I devoured everything except the red apple, the most disgusting apple variety to exist, to save for later.
As I stared off into space, I tried to relax my body into a comfortable position that didn’t feel like someone was stabbing my lungs.
My mind drifted to the dream I had woken from this morning, and I quickly blinked against the sting of tears that were trying to form.
I didn’t want to think about my brother, but I found myself bringing the collar of his shirt to my face and breathing in the scent of him that was beginning to fade.
The lump in my throat burned and I chugged the rest of my water, trying to get rid of it.
“Cierra tus ojos, güerita.”
Shut. Up.
“Te quie—”
Fucking shut up!
The sound of the gun firing made me jump, and I scanned the cafeteria with a racing heart.
Fuck.
My lunch threatened to make a reappearance on the table. My chair tipped backward from the force of rising from my seat. I sped walked to the exit.
Fuck school. Fuck this fucking shit. I’m not going back to some stupid fucking class to learn about fucking pointless fucking shit. I’ll go the fucking library. Maybe I’ll find some fucking letter opener or a pair of fucking scissors and just end this fucking day already.
I clenched my jaw, hands balled tightly into fists as an overwhelming feeling of rage overtook my body.
And fuck you, Javier!
I was angry, no, livid at Javier for choosing my life over his. It felt like a burden to keep going when I didn’t want to. I wanted to scream at him for being so reckless, for snitching, and for forcing me to live without him.
I was trapped in a nightmare whether I was awake or dreaming, and I wanted it all to end.
???
October 5, Tuesday
Enoch
Jae kept calling me a lovesick puppy after I’d spent the last two days scanning the hallways for Shiloh. I was anxious to apologize before our tutoring session after school, but to my disappointment I never found her. How the hell does she blend in so easily?
I made it to the library in record time, eager to get to the tutoring office before anyone else could claim Shiloh for their tutor today.
“Ah, back again. Algebra, right?” Mr. Crane asked when I entered the office, embarrassingly, a little out of breath with how quickly I’d walked there.
“Algebra II,” I nodded glancing down at the empty sign-in sheet with triumph before scribbling my name down. “I was hoping to work with Shiloh again. Is she here yet?”
“I don’t blame you. She is the best tutor we’ve got for math. But you’re a little early. No one else is here yet. Go ahead and take study room one and I’ll let Shiloh know you’re here when she arrives.”
I nodded, smiling with gratitude before heading into the study room.
After pulling out my homework and the quiz we were working on last time, I scrolled on my phone.
The sounds of other students arriving and taking up the surrounding study rooms filtered through the door, and I was beginning to worry that Mr. Crane had forgotten to notify Shiloh about me.
I walked back into the office and waited for the other students to finish signing in at his desk before taking one of the empty chairs.
“No Shiloh yet?” I asked, hoping he hadn’t assigned her to another student.
“She’s not here?”
I shook my head.
“Hm, that’s odd. Lemme see if maybe she’s out sick,” Mr. Crane offered.
His brow furrowed as he concentrated on his computer screen and let out a grunt of confusion.
“Well, it looks like she was in class until lunch, but the rest of her school day was unexcused absences. She might’ve had sumpin come up, maybe got sick.
Poor girl.” He sighed to himself, before flicking his gaze to meet mine.
“I can get ya assigned to another peer tutor. Lemme see who’s still free. ”
Just as the pit forming in my stomach began to twist with regret for treating her so poorly last week, the door swung open, and she walked in. Shiloh didn’t spare us a glance as she walked up to the sign-in sheet and peered down at it.
“There you are,” Mr. Crane said with a smile. “We were just beginnin’ to wonder if you weren’t coming in. Thought you might been sick.”
I reached out to her, tapping her arm to get her attention. She swung around with a fierce look in her eyes, her fist curled and aiming to hit me, but then her features softened in recognition.
“Sorry,” I smiled, dropping my hand from her arm and relaxing my body that had tensed for the anticipated punch. “Didn’t mean to…”
I trailed off, not able to finish my sentence when my brain registered the wounds on her face.
My heart stuttered in my chest. Busted lip, possibly broken nose, and a cut that went through the tail-end of her eyebrow.
The heavy pit in my stomach tightened as I speculated what had happened, my mouth suddenly too dry to even swallow.
Holy crap.
“Everythin’ alright?” Mr. Crane interrupted our stare down.
“Fine,” she replied, glaring at me for one more blink before turning to face him.
“Shiloh!” Mr. Crane stood up so quickly his rolling chair went flying backwards. “What in the Sam Hill happened, kid?” He rounded his desk, ushering her to sit down in the seat beside me.
“Have you been to the hospital?” he tutted at her, his gaze intently assessing her face.
“Yeah.” Her voice cracked and she cleared her throat, waving away Mr. Crane’s attempt to get her to sit down. “Got into a car accident over the weekend. But I’ll be fine. It looks worse than it is.”
My heart stuttered again in my chest, and I reached up to rub it in an attempt to stifle the feeling of unease that lingered there.
“Do you want a ride home? You shouldn’t be at school when you’re hurt,” I said.
“No, I’m good. Seriously. Let’s just get to work. I’m sorry I’m late.”
Mr. Crane and I shared a look of sympathy and disbelief before I responded. “I got us a study room,” I smiled, pointing with my thumb over my shoulder.
She nodded and followed behind me. Shiloh looked stiff as she sat opposite me, her jaw tense.
“Listen, are you sure you’re okay? You should be at home resting.”