I made my decision and took a deep breath.
To clarify, in my mind, there was idiot 1, who is just bad tempered, and wants to kill me. Then there was idiot 2, who freaks me out and could become a potential stalker. 'Better the devil you know, than the devil you don't.' I thought as I charged up to idiot 1. He was, as expected, ready for me. I threw a punch at him, but he blocked it, grabbing my wrist. Before I could do the wrist turn and put the pressure on the weak thumb, with the intention of escaping his grip, he punched me in the stomach with his free hand. The punch landed the right way to knock the wind out of me, and my body crumpled forward and slid to the ground. He let go of my wrist, and a second later, I saw why. Lying on the floor, I ended up wriggling onto my side, in a desperate attempt to get my body to take a breath; but my lungs wouldn't work. My eyes traveled in an ark as in my field of vision I saw idiot 2 leap, with a growl, over me to collide with idiot 1. I could hear scuffling, loud curses and blows landing, but I didn't care much about that at the moment. Finally, my lungs resumed functioning and I sucked in a ragged breath.
Worried about the goings-on around me I sat up and saw idiot 2 give idiot 1 a good punch to the side of the head and idiot 1 dropped like a sack of potatoes.
'Crap!' I thought as I attempted to silently stand up and began to back up towards my discarded backpack. But, being a werewolf, he heard me and turned around. The bell rang loudly and suddenly. He was momentarily distracted, and I took my chance to snatch my backpack as I ran by it. I knew that he would catch up to me at any moment.
"Wait!" he called after me.
But I didn't wait; I just kept running. Surprisingly, I ran all the way to class. As I walked through the doorway, I snuck a look down the hallway. He was no where in sight.
In the classroom, I found a seat in the middle, as all the seats at the back of the room were already taken. Four minutes later, as our English teacher began to give us a brief overview of the Shakespeare play we would read this year, the door opened and he walked in. The teacher gave him trouble for being late to class. I heard her call him by his first name. Turns out, idiot 2 was named Kyle. Kyle looked at me before taking a seat in the second row from the front. And though I had a hard time paying attention to the Act 1, Scene 1, much to my relief, Kyle never turned around to look at me even once during class.
After the teacher said "class dismissed", I worried about making it to my next class. I was no where near close enough to the exit. I gathered my things together as fast as I could while students started to exit. I walked towards the door and I heard the teacher call Kyle over to speak to her. As I hurried past and out the door, I heard her say that he had a poor start to the semester in her class; being absent yesterday and late today.
I silently worked my way through the students to the stairs. Once I reached the ground floor, I went to the nearest exit. I figured it was faster to cover the distance to the portable via the path in the grass, than to work to the other side of the building through the crowded halls.
I reached the portable, went inside and found my seat. The Spanish class was perfect; so peaceful, so ordinary, plus I enjoyed Spanish. Out of the academic subjects, languages were something I excelled in. Languages gave me a sense of accomplishment, thus my presence in the Spanish level 2 class.
As the teacher began to explain a verb tense that I already knew (irregular verbs and all), I let my mind drift off. The first place it went to was thoughts of my dad. Mom told me once that I got my love of languages from my father. He died when I was 2, so I don't remember him at all. But I wished I did. Mom always said he was a hero, who died a tragic death. She never hid the fact from me that he had been murdered, and he took on the assailant, giving Mom a chance to run away with me. After Dad died, Mom never got remarried, as far as I could remember, she had never had a boyfriend either. I could tell she still missed him. So, my small family consisted of Mom and I; Mom told me we didn't have any living relatives.
I was broken from my reminiscences by the sound of the bell. I packed up my things into my backpack and left the portable. It was my lunch now. I walked around the building, in the doors, up the stairs and went to my locker.