Underneath the Mask

Underneath the Mask: Chapter Four

Chapter Four

            Lyndon opened the door and hopped down onto the pavement. The high school looked almost just like the one Lyndon had attended eight years ago. He felt an odd sense of déjà vu. He felt like he was a freshman again, nervous about going to high school and being tortured by the seniors. All the worrying back then was for nothing because the seniors at the time were too caught up in their own stuff to pay attention to the little freshmen.

            Lyndon caught some girls gawking at him by their red jeep as Lyndon walked side by side with Jessica. He ran his hand through his hair awkwardly and looked around the school. He was doing a job. Not trying to impress high school girls. So, Lyndon ignored all the people who were staring at him and focused on taking mental pictures of the school.

            The front entrance was wide and had a total of four sets of doors: two on each side of the front office which was enclosed with glass. There was an older, black woman sitting in front of one of the computers typing away while a guy in a gray sweatshirt with the hood up waited with a bored expression on his face. The part of the building to the right was the auditorium and the taller one to the left was the main gym. Around the corner, Lyndon took count of two full tennis courts, a large football stadium, and what looked to be about five grass fields. Across the street, there was a large baseball field, some more grass fields, and a cross country track that circled around the entire perimeter of the school, even disappearing in the woods for a little bit and re-appearing at the back of the baseball field.

            The school colors were purple and gold and the mascot was a lion. They were the Rustin Lions. Lyndon's high school had been the East Goshen Vikings. He recalled playing Rustin in football a couple times, but he hadn't known anybody who attended the school.

            Jessica and Lyndon finally reached the front doors and walked inside the school which was decorated in purple and gold and had a huge lion engraved in the floor with purple and gold circles circling around it. It had the usual school smell: disinfectant, new paint, and the smell of freshly showered teenagers with the occasional smelly kid.

            Every person they passed along the way stared. Lyndon felt like he was being dissected and kind of felt bad for Jessica, considering she probably went through this kind of treatment every single day. She was the girl who had been a prostitute in Russia for three years. Kids couldn't understand the kind of grief she was going through so they decided to be rude and stare. Lyndon felt himself getting angry and began shooting angry looks at any of the people who passed by and gawked. He was satisfied when they would look away with their faces blushing red in embarrassment.

            Lyndon reached inside his pocket and pulled out his schedule. They had Calculus first period. Lyndon hated calculus. Math was his weakest subject and he was lucky to even pass it during his senior year thanks to his amazing tutor which so happened to be Kenny. The only good thing about going and taking this class was that Lyndon wouldn't even have to listen. It wasn't like he was the one needing to get a good grade. That was Jessica.

            Jessica led Lyndon into a room labeled 303. She walked straight to a desk in the back and sunk down in her chair, taking out a notebook and pen and resting it on her desk. She was wearing all black again: black, baggy sweatshirt and two pairs of black sweatpants. For what reason she was wearing two pairs, Lyndon did not know but he guessed along the lines that either she was really cold although it was late June or that she was trying to make herself look ugly. Lyndon was also wearing black, although he was wearing jeans which were just dark washed and not black. He had a black t-shirt on and his black combat boots in which was hidden his Glock and a couple knives. An FBI agent could never be too ready for combat.