02 #2
I went to the library, wanting to pick up the book I hadn’t been able to finish at home, but no matter how much I searched the shelves I couldn’t find it, and when I asked the librarian, she told me that someone else had taken it.
I didn’t believe her. She used to tell the same to everyone, even if the book was in its place, so I kept looking for it all over the room until I spotted a redhead.
She was there. Sitting on a padded part of the floor with the book in her hands.
Without hesitation, I approached her and grabbed it from her grasp, minimizing my breaths to avoid her scent.
As soon as our eyes met, I shuddered, and the cramps became stronger than ever.
My breathing became heavier and my lungs burned.
I had to hold the book tighter because of the sweat on my hands, and my chest began to hurt from how fast my heart was beating.
“Give me the book. I was reading it,” she said, getting up from the floor with an annoyed expression.
I wasn’t surprised that her voice was soft and pleasant, quite unlike the girl my father had brought into my home against my will.
“I don’t care. Now I have it.” She pursed her lips in a peculiar expression, then stood on tiptoe trying to reach the book I had moved away from her.
“Give me the book,” she protested again, a wrinkle appearing on the bridge of her nose.
“I told you no,” I replied, raising my arm even higher. That caused the girl to brush one of her fingers against my wrist, making me gasp. It was as if someone had punched me in the stomach.
“Don’t touch me,” I muttered in a broken voice, putting my wrist out of her reach.
Then I pushed her on impulse, causing her to stumble and fall to the floor with a thud. It wasn’t long before she started crying, rubbing her ankle and giving me an angry look, and I just watched her on the floor, not knowing what to do or how to remove the lump in my throat.
“I’ll tell my brother,” she stammered between whimpers.
I opened my lips, wanting to say something to get rid of the knot in my stomach, but nothing came out because of the lump in my throat, so I dropped the book and quickly went to the bathroom, thinking that maybe if I washed my face with cold water, I would feel calmer afterwards.
It didn’t happen, and as soon as I saw my reflection in the mirror, I wanted to cut my arms again to get rid of whatever was bothering me inside. Physical pain was always better. The only thing that stopped me from doing so were the two boys who entered the restroom.
I recognized one of them as the fool who tried to steal my seat in the cafeteria last week. I wanted to leave, but one of them blocked my way with a mocking smile.
“Move.”
“Or what?” one of them asked, raising an eyebrow.
My only answer was to punch him in the face without measuring my strength.
Then, more arrived. I could not stop. I didn’t want to.
Then, I got on top of him and kept punching his face and any other reachable spot, specifically targeting his broken nose.
“Get away from him, you monster!” screamed the other boy, climbing on my back and pulling me away.
His efforts to pull me away were in vain because I continued hitting the boy until he was unconscious on the ground. That same boy, seeing my eyes and fists covered in blood, ran away in terror.
A small smile tugged at my lips as I got up and looked at the unconscious body, thinking that maybe it would have been better to use my knife.
It would have been quicker. When my eyes went to my bloodstained hands, I couldn’t help but wonder if that redhead’s blood was also that bright red.
Her hair was that intense red for a reason.
As I was walking down the hallway, I heard footsteps behind me. Turning my head, I saw the school principal.
“To my office. Now.”
I snorted before following him to his office. I would deal with the other snitch later.
“I heard someone saw you beating up one of your classmates in the bathroom. Is that true?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” I replied, pointing to the bloodstains on my black T-shirt. The principal sighed, shifting his attention from my shirt to my face.
“Mr. Novikov, you should know that this kind of violent behavior is not welcome in this institution. Therefore, the institution suspends you for one week. I will inform your father.”
“I can do that myself,” I said rudely before walking to the door, leaving him hanging.
I knew what was coming when I told my father about what had happened today, but it had been worth it.
I didn’t feel like going back to class, so I wandered around the hallways, thinking about her and the strange feelings I had when I saw her so vulnerable.
At first, I thought about going to the nurse’s office to see if she was there, but instead of finding her, I found the boy from the bathroom staring at me with doe eyes full of terror.
He had bruises all over his face and bandages covering other wounds.
Taking advantage of the fact that no one was around, I started rummaging through the drawers with the idea of helping the red-haired girl.
I did not know how bad her ankle was, so I took several bandages and something to wrap it with, cut a piece with scissors, and put it in my jeans pocket.
Then my eyes fell on a glass jar full of candies, and I took a couple of red ones.
“If you say anything about this, I’ll come back and kill you. Do you hear me?” The boy tried to nod, and I offered a slight smile before leaving to find the red-haired girl.
I went to the classroom, but it was empty.
There weren’t even any backpacks or jackets hanging on the coat racks.
I cursed under my breath before heading to the sports grounds on the other side of the school.
There were twenty minutes left before classes ended, so time was against me.
I could already hear the voices of some children as I approached them.
When I got closer, I saw some of her classmates, so I assumed she would be there too.
I walked, almost jogging, to the girls’ locker room and hid where I could, waiting for her to show up.
Soon after, the room filled with girls that were too noisy for my liking.
I glanced outside, looking for her, but she didn’t appear.
Where is she now? Is she hiding from me?
I thought, gritting my teeth. Just as I was about to give up and leave, I found her changing her shoes, sitting on the bench in the middle with her back to me.
With somewhat clumsy steps, I came out of my hiding place. I was unsure how to approach her or what words to use. I just thought about how I communicated with my brother whenever I wanted something from him and acted the same way, thinking that if it worked with him, it would work with her.
“Hi,” I said, forcing my lips into a smile. When she saw me, the girl turned pale and quickly gathered her things to leave. “No, wait!” She ignored me, didn’t even look at me.
My fingers took on a life of their own and grabbed her arm, stopping her.
That was the first time I had touched someone since my mother left, and as much as I disliked the idea, I liked that for once my touch was not rejected by the other person.
It made me feel something much more intense than the nausea and cramps I knew so well.
It was uncomfortable and strange. For a moment, all I did was stare at the skin on her arm, and I thought that maybe, just maybe, mermaids existed.
Seeing the confused look on the girl’s face as she stared at my hand, I pulled it away, feeling even more embarrassed by the blush on my cheeks.
“I brought you something for your foot,” I said, walking over to the bench. She sat down on the bench, staring at me. When her eyes fell on the Mickey Mouse band-aid, she frowned.
Before she could speak, I was already pulling down her sock and placing a couple of bandages over the band-aid I had put around her ankle before.
I would be lying if I said I hadn’t taken advantage of that opportunity to touch her soft skin again.
Touching her skin had become a kind of necessity for me.
I didn’t know why or how. Everything about her attracted me in a strange way and also scared me away.
“Do you like it?”
“Yes. But I prefer Minnie.” I did not know what she was talking about.
“I also brought you this,” I said, taking the candy out of my pocket.
“My mom says it’s bad to eat candy because it makes your teeth fall out.”
“That’s not true.”
“Yes, it is. My brother lost a tooth because of it last week. My mom told me so.”
“If you eat one, nothing will happen to you,” I assured her, holding out the candy to her with a smile. I bit the tip of my tongue when her fingers brushed my palm.
“Thanks,” she mumbled with the candy still in her mouth and a smile that almost made me pale, accelerating my heartbeat until it was in my ears. “Bye.”
I could not speak. I was frightened, but I wouldn’t let her get away. Never.
1Babush: grandma.