In the couple of hours that I've seen Emma, she never lets down her confident walk. Despite rumors floating around school, and having a giant target on her back, she's so cheerful. I'd say Jazmyn is almost fearful of her, the way she flinches every time Emma waltzes by. I'm not entirely sure why though. But somehow, I find the care-free quality admirable.
Emma doesn't take the bus like me, but skates home on a customized board instead. She says that she prefers the feeling of wind on her face, in comparison to sitting with "fiery teens." I saw her clean it at lunch, and she had the focused look. Just like when she's playing on her phone. The designs intertwine with flowers of a monotone color pallet, although they do have some red bits that really coordinate well together. I would love to try it out.
But I'd probably get hurt.
Every now and then, I'll get lost in my thoughts, and then next thing I know we're looking each other in the eyes. It's awkward, because I get flustered. I don't exactly understand why, and it doesn't help that she smirks as if she won. I don't understand that either.
I don't understand anything anymore.
And Mara won't shut up about it.
I heard clicking in front of me, and when my vision focused I saw that she had been snapping her fingers right in my face.
"Uh oh."
"Stop daydreaming about that girl for crying out loud! You're so distracted lately that I've seen you run into walls. Get your head out of the clouds before I see your grades drop," she lectured, checking her hair in the locker mirror. It was perfectly fit into space buns with bangs that framed her glasses. I don't get why she's even looking, she could be in a kpop group no sweat.
"I'm not distracted," I mumbled, rolling my eyes. An image of Emma's eyes creeped it's way into my mind.
"..."
"I'm not distracted."
I started to fumble with my shirt sleeve, and thought back to her sweater. It's 21 Pilots merchandise, and I felt bad that I only knew one of their albums. But hey, I'm not completely clueless. Their album Blurryface is on my phone, and I listen to them when traveling. I stopped my music journey when it hit me that the clothing was at home, folded on top of my desk. I accidentally fell asleep in it whilst studying, and had completely forgotten that I was still wearing it. I smiled, remembering the soft fabric, before closing my eyes and furiously shaking my head.
Mara halted putting on lip gloss and squinted at me. "Did she see that?"
"Oh yes you are. That girl does one thing and it's all you talk about. Forget yesterday even happened. Think of it as a favor and don't mention it. That was a dangerous move and she's new. Especially with how... risky it made her situation."
"Guess not."
"Risky it made her situation?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. I forgot to tell her that I am in detention as well. Even though Emma never showed up, we're in this together. As dumb as that sounds in my head, like some superhero movie.
"You know what I mean. With the way Jazmyn is looking at her, you'd think she got away with murder. I bet she's cooking up something nasty for her as we speak."
She's not wrong. But I have a small feeling that won't happen for a bit.
"How'd your test go?" I asked, attempting to change the subject. "You know, the one you studied your butt off for," I added with a strained grin. For some reason, I want to keep my moment with Emma to myself.
"Hm? Oh. Not that terrible actually. I got an 83," she said while cleaning her glasses and fidgeting with her clothes. I'm starting to wonder if she looks at herself more than me. Which sounds self centered and selfish, but it's common courtesy.
"Mara," I whisper.
"Yea?"
"You look great."
"You're sure?" She asked, frowning as if I was being preposterous.
"Positive."
She finally closed her locker, smiling as we pushed our way down the hall.
♡♡♡
I continued to stare at the clock, tapping my pencil on the desk.
Here I am, sitting in History, edging my way towards insanity. I have to get up and move, do something, anything, but I can't. Nope. I have to listen about the mummification process and not throw up.
I'm sure that anyone watching could see me visibly shaking from how disturbing this is. I do not, want to be shown the types of hooks and other tools used for this. I swallowed bile when our teacher explained how the hooks were shoved up a corpse's nose, twirled around, and yanked out in order to remove brains.
"Can't do this."
I absentmindedly start to hum, attempting to drown out the different torture techniques. At first I can still hear every word, but then less. And eventually I can't hear anything. I smile, then pause.
"Wait a second..."
Lifting my eyes, I found many more staring back at me. Feeling my ears burn, I went back to my notes. I furiously scribble, trying very hard to make it look like I am paying attention. "If I get called out I'm going to scream."
"Are you alright Caroline?"
"Um, yes ma'am," I respond, feeling a little annoyed. My teacher frowned, and stopped the documentary playing. Placing the remote down, she leaned forward on her desk and pressed her hands together. Her lips have formed a thin line, and she looks like a turtle to me, all wrinkly and supposedly wise.
"Really? Because I thought I was teaching you about Ancient Egypt. Not how to be a canary. You can join the rest of them outside if you choose to be that disruptive. Although, you might have to fight for a good branch."
I hear whispering around me, and the sounds ring in my eardrums. I can feel my face heating up, as I do my best to keep eye contact with her. I hate this feeling. Don't loose it Caroline, just breath.
"I need to get out of here."
"I apologize miss, it won't happen again," I choke out, doing my best to stay calm.
"I should hope so," she squinted, as if she were trying to decide where my voice had come from. That old bat shouldn't even be here if she's that blind. She started it up again, and to my complete glee the bell rang.
"Thank fricken chicken nuggets."
In good haste I snatched up my stuff made my way to gym. Boy am I lucky that is next. I get to work out my anger instead of forcing it onto someone else in the process. A terrible habit of mine. I bumped into someone, and I turned to snap at them only for the words to get caught in my mouth. They grinned at me, and matched my strides.
"Hey Carrie, where you headin'?"
Suddenly, I have a squishy feeling in my stomach, and I can't really describe it if I wanted to.
"PE," I say, as if there is a pillow over my mouth.
"Great, just great. I can't speak again."
She smiled down at me. "That's perfect! Cus' I have PE too!" I can't believe how she can be so loud, while I'm over here with a clogged throat.
"You're causing a ruckus," I whispered, hushing her. A smile threatening to form, but I don't want to give her the satisfaction of it just yet. She squinted at me and looked around before smirking.
"A ruckus? Aw, what's wrong?" She questioned, dragging the g, raising her voice higher and higher. "We'll...." glancing around as if she'd get in trouble. "BLEED AND SWEAT TOGETHER!!" She exclaimed, fist in the air as a declaration. This act caused attention to get pulled towards the two of us. Many people were laughing, but for some reason, I don't care. I giggled, and fake punched her as we rounded a corner. There's her confidence, running at full force.
"Stop it," I whined, dragging out the t. What's funny is that I don't think I actually want her to halt.
"Ow," she responded with feigned pain whilst rubbing her arm, "It was just a joke Carrie, no need to get worked up about it." I finally surrendered a full smile, and she smirked in triumph before continuing small talk. "Do you like PE? Or are you completely against exercise of any kind? Gonna be fully honest here, you don't strike me as athletic," she stated before poking me in the ribs, prompting another giggle from me. "Since when am I a giggler..."
"Don't do that, it hurts," I mumbled, hand on my side to protect me from further attack. She found my weak spot, but as long as she doesn't know, I'll be safe. I shook my head when I realized this sounded like a battle plan. "And I'm only a fan of it when I'm furious in some way, so we're out of luck on my liking towards that class."
She smirked. "When I stumbled upon you, you appeared pretty upset to me," putting a hand on her chin, she stared up at the ceiling as if in thought. "But now you seem decently joyful..." she smirked down in my direction, eyes glinting. " Aw, did I cheer you up Carrie?"
I felt my face heat up and I glued my eyes to the floor. I attempted to come up with a reply of some kind, and couldn't form one. "Am I really that transparent..."
"Hey, you're not mute now are ya'? I like talkin' to you don't hide that voice of yours Carrie. I can't see ya' without it." The squishy feeling is growing.
"Like talking to me... no don't look into it."
I entered PE crimson without running a single lap.
♡♡♡
I took a deep breath before opening the door, and took a seat near the middle. It's unsettling, how quiet it is in here. Not a fan of that. My chair scraped across the floor, noise scratching and causing me to cringe. I watched the teacher scroll through his phone, unaware of my presence.
I tried to study, but this proved to be difficult.
I can't focus.
I keep checking the clock, watching time tick by as it gets closer and closer to closing time. I've tried different things to entertain me, all failing to win first place. These include; drumming my pencil, reading, actually studying, humming, word searches, and phone games. I'm sure there are more, but I'm so bored that I can't remember most of it all. When the hands reached 4:30, I sighed, and collected my things. As I signed out, he finally acknowledged me.
"Oh, I see that Peterson is a happy skipper again huh?" He spat her last name as if the very mention would infect him. "That could entail a call home, not that it matters anyway. We're always thankful for kids like you Caroline," he grinned, showing praise I don't want. I don't exactly know how to respond.
"Thank you sir, I'll see you tomorrow," I say, leaving the classroom.
"What the heck is his deal?"
On my bus ride home, I stare out the window and watch the trees zooming by. Their leaves blur, due to their distance from me. As we come to a stop light and halt travel, I glance up at one of the wooden giants. I take a picture with my phone, and edit it for better appeal. "Emma would probably go up and down one of these in 10 minutes tops..."
I frown, when it dawns on me that she's jumps to the front of my mind so easily.
Popping in my earbuds, I blast Carlos Bertonatti. I hope his words on the importance of little things could somehow manage to drown out my thoughts. His nostalgic voice fills my ears, and I tap my fingers on the seat. It's not helping, but I love the music too much to turn it off, and imagine that Emma is listening with me. She'd say that it was "okay," then rant on about groups that she enjoys. Most likely complaining about how most of them are unpopular, and writing a list for me to listen to later. I smile at the idea, confused that my heart hurt.
I can't help but feel disappointed that she was a no show.