I walked over to the teacher's desk by the end of class and waited for her to finish taking out her supplies for the next class (which wouldn't be until the 2nd period). I waited at the edge of the desk staring at the floor in distaste. If she told my mother... if she told her then I'd be screwed. Not to mention, but my mom might also find out that I had never gotten rid of that "dumb" toy car that was my last birthday present from him. For my mom, he was just a pencil mark of the past, needed to be erased. She finished placing her supplies on the desk and motioned me to sit in a chair in front of her. I began to use my sign language. Am I in trouble?
"No, Michael you are not in trouble."
What about 1st period?
"I've already informed your teacher that you will arrive 10 minutes late to class and that she should not wait for you nor give you a late pass."
Why am I here?
"Because I saw something on those wrists of yours that no 16-year-old boy should have on his wrists." I look down at the floor in shame, hoping she wouldn't ask why I did such a thing. Because in truth, I didn't even have the answer to that question. Please don't tell my mom.
"Why shouldn't I?"
Because I don't want her to have more on her plate than she already has.
"I won't tell your mom, but I will have to take some measures to prevent this."
Like what?
"Like having someone monitor you at all times to make sure that you're not cutting yourself again."
I can't have that! I need to have some privacy!
"It's not like she's going in the restroom with you, have patience, child. There's a girl I have in mind, I'm not sure if you met her? She was sitting across from you. Yes, she'd do nicely as being a guard for you."
A girl?! Are you kidding?!
"Sadly not, unless you'd rather I tell your mom?"
No.... I'll let her guard me.
"Nice, I'll tell Skye tomorrow of her new job, now carry on, you're late for 1st period." I walk out of the room with my head hung low, I did not want someone to be guarding me. When I walk into my 1st-period class the teacher looks at me but says nothing as I sit down in an empty chair. I wanted to run away, to bury myself in a sandlot and never be seen again. It'd be better than having a dumb guard stopping me. I didn't pay attention to the entire class, my mind was going in all directions.
~~~~~~~~~~~
After class, as I attempted to walk out I felt someone pulling on the back of my sleeve. "Oi! Look behind you!" I turned around to look but the only person I could see was the girl from the morning. After the way I dissed her, I assumed it was my brain acting up. When I turned back around, however, I heard that voice again. "HELLO?! UHM, LOOK AT ME! RIGHT OVER HERE!" I turn around to see where the voice was coming from and crash into the girl instead. "Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow. Dude that HURTS. This is what I get for accepting your job?" I stare at her lost in how she was the one assigned to me, and how on Earth I was going to communicate with her. "You can... um, say something? I know sign language."
Oh, I didn't know you knew sign language.
"I've known it for a long time, my mom's deaf so..."
Sorry, I didn't know.
"Nah, it's cool. Besides, now that I'm your 'protector' now we can introduce ourselves formally! Uhm, what exactly am I protecting you from?"
She didn't tell you?
"Nope, she just pulled me for two minutes and told me I was your guard for pretty much the rest of high school. So what's up, is it a gang or something I gotta fight? Is it like one of the movies where the hot chick fights the other hot chick in a street battle for the guy? Heck, if it's that, I'm in."
That's not what it is, but hilarious.
"I can't tell if that's sarcasm or not, that's just plain depressing."
That's what you're protecting me from.
"Huh what? Sarcasm?"
Not exactly.
"Woah, you're so blunt. Guess I'll protect you from the horrors of sarcasm."
You're not gonna say anything else?
"What am I supposed to say other than that?"
I don't know, ask for a better explanation? A voice interjects in our conversation from across the hall. "YO LIZA! BEING A SWITCH HITTER AGAIN?" She stares at the floor, it looked like she was about to cry, I've had that feeling before too. Maybe she could save me. For now, though, she seemed pretty weak for an individual, and I honestly couldn't understand the phrase any less. What does she mean?
"Oh, nothing! Uh, really nice day right Minina?"
"Aw, you didn't tell your new victim about your astounding baseball career? You switch hit so much, I bet the Yankee league can take you by now!" She stares at the floor, there were no tears in her eyes, but most likely stuck behind them refusing to get out. I've had those feelings before. It feels like you want to cry but it just won't let you. So I did the one thing I could do at that time, dragged her away from the problem. Are you ok? She nodded her head. I smiled the biggest smile I could at her. Obviously fake, but if I could fake a smile for 5 years with no one knowing, why couldn't I do it now? I look back on that day and found that for some strange reason, my smile wasn't fake just at that moment.