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Mrs. Ross had a very bad cold. Her stuffy voice struggled to come out between coughs and sniffles during her Western Civilization history class, which greatly hindered the already low concentration of the entire class. From the window, I could see thick raindrops starting to fall, heavy clouds and strong winds threatening the same storm as the previous day.
"It would be so fucked up if we end up getting sick because of her," someone said.
Maybe it was the strong kick on my desk punctuating the sentence, but it was impossible not to look over my shoulder and face the author of the acidic comment about the teacher. Her large brown eyes were almost hidden beneath the messy bangs of her artificial blond hair. The dark roots gave her a careless look while sending a clear message of
"don't fuck with me" that matched the rest of her outfit perfectly - a loose tie, unbuttoned shirt revealing more than necessary, giving anyone a glimpse of the lace of her black bra. Her full, pale lips stretched into a smile when she noticed my gaze lingering a little too long on her cleavage, making me quickly turn forward with my neck and cheeks on fire.
Megan Wood was the kind of girl who attracted all the attention while also instilling a certain fear in anyone who considered approaching her. A repeater, she should have been a Senior instead of a Junior like me, but who was I to complain about her vanilla and cigarette scent so close to me in some classes? To complain about my chair vibrating every time she swung her legs and rested them there, or giving small kicks to distract me? To complain about how my body immediately responded when she poked my shoulder to pass around the attendance list? To complain about…
"
ACHOO!"
The whole class jumped at Mrs. Ross's sneeze - or maybe it was just me being too distracted. Either way, it seemed to be the limit for the teacher, who announced the end of that day's class, covering half of her face with a tissue and running out the door without looking back.
Amidst the ensuing chaos of zippers closing, chairs dragging, pens falling to the floor, and students jostling to get to the cafeteria early, I calmly gathered my belongings.
"Hey, kid," a shiver ran quickly down my arm as I felt the tap. I looked uncertainly at the girl, now standing next to me, adjusting her skirt rolled up at the waist to make it shorter.
"H-hey, Megan," I cleared my throat, trying to disguise my embarrassing stutter.
Megan had never,
ever spoken to me. She rarely looked in my direction when she realized I was staring for too long, and then she would give a sideways smile.
Just like the one on her face now.
"Did you take any notes in this chaotic class?" she asked, her voice soft, and I almost let out an incredulous laugh.
Seriously?
But a loud thud on the classroom door caught my voice midway.
"What's up, Megan? Are you going to give it up to the
fat boy now?" escorted by his two inseparable accomplices, my personal bully since I can remember, Brian Powell, shouted from afar.
"Fuck off, Brian," Megan shouted back at him.
"I could fuck with you," he replied, putting his hand in front of his pants in an obscene gesture, to which Megan simply raised her middle finger and made a face.
I barely noticed that I was holding the backpack strap too tightly, fearing that Brian would approach and maybe want to remember the old days by punching me. But he never crossed the threshold. He left laughing with his friends, satisfied with Megan's rude response, who went back to adjusting herself and looked at me with an amused expression.
"I'm hungry, let's have lunch?"
What?
“Um…” I was left without an answer for a second, not that Megan would have waited for it anyway, as she immediately grabbed my arm and pulled me towards the exit.
What was happening?
“And you're not even fat anymore,” I heard her mutter as we made our way through some students.
That didn't even feel like a dream because never in my short life of almost seventeen years would I dare to dream that one day I would be literally dragged down the school hallway by Megan
fucking Wood.
“The cafeteria is…” I tried to point in the direction where the smell of reheated pizza and old grease was coming from, but Megan just kept pulling me in the opposite direction. “Where are you going?”
“You don't have many friends, do you?”
Wow.
“Why the question?” I assumed a defensive stance without realizing it.
I didn't like to remember that the only friend I had kept since childhood had moved away less than a year ago. I didn't like to think that the only close relationship I had now was with my new sister, Victoria, whom I gained from my father's new marriage - and although I liked her a lot from the beginning, this new family configuration was still difficult to handle.
So no, I didn't really have many friends around.
Megan just glanced quickly over her shoulder, her tousled, very blonde hair shaking on her back. Her delicate hand gripped my wrist over the sleeve of my uniform as she led me out the back of the building.
