“Jamison, stop. We’re in the middle of the hallway… with cameras.” Jane said pulling away from me and more toward her locker. I slipped my arms around her waist and held her tight against my body. “Well then how about tonight?” I brushed back her rustic auburn hair and gently kissed the back of her neck. I felt her body slack against mine and mentally congratulated myself for finding her weak spot. She closed her locker and leaned up against it. She gave me one of those flirty little smiles I loved and I put my hand beside her against the lockers and leaned my tanned forehead against her smooth fair one.
“You make a guy go crazy.” I told her as I leaned in for a quick feel of her lips with my own.
I heard her whisper “good” right before my lips landed on hers. Her smooth lips moved with mine like a silent lovers dance. I loved kissing Jane. It was so easy and natural. Suddenly Jane’s lips tore away from mine and her head whipped sideways. I turned my head to see what had interrupted us and I saw a small girl, probably a freshman, picking up her books that had spilled onto the hardwood hallway floor. I quickly jogged over and picked up the rest of the books for the poor girl. Her black hair was spilled over her face so I’m surprised she could see where her books were in the first place. As if she heard my thoughts, she then pulled a black ribbon out of the pocket of her pink jeans that looked like they were painted on her legs. Loosely pulling back her hair, she stood up and stray black tendrils of hair framed her young face. I smiled at her as I handed back her books and I caught a glimpse of scars that covered her now exposed forearm – cutters’ marks. She quickly pulled her jacket sleeve back down and accepted her books from me. With a small smile she scurried off up the stairs and I walked back over to Jane.
“How sweet.” She said, giving me a small kiss on the cheek and heading off to her class. I barely registered it as I pondered what had made that girl’s life so bad that she resulted to cutting herself. I can’t even fathom the fact of intentionally hurting myself that bad. I shook my head as if it would erase my thoughts and bounded down the stairs to my advanced math class.
I peeked into the back door to see if Mr. Lynne was writing on the board or not so I could sneak in unseen. I waited a couple of seconds until he went to do an example on the board and opened the door silently and stealthy slid into my seat between Mikah and Kyle Hanks, another one of my teammates. Opening my notebook to act like I had been there the whole time, I looked up at the board and realized I had no idea what Mr. Lynne was trying to teach. Math was like another language to me.
“What page?” I mouthed to Kyle.
“123.” He mouthed back.
I opened up my book and saw that the problem on the board was one of the examples. I quickly skimmed over the pages and still didn’t comprehend what I was reading.
“Mr. Lyle. What is the answer to the problem on the board?” Mr. Lynne’s old voice cracked a little and faded as he finished his sentence.
“Uhmm,” I looked down at my book for a quick answer. “45.”
“I might be old but I’m still one step ahead of you. I’m glad you are able to read.” He turned his back to me and began to work out the problem.
“Oh and welcome to class.”