Illusions

8- i just wanna help.

"You took quite a fall, now, didn't you, Miss?" Dara chuckles lightly as I sit up slowly in bed, relieved that the pain has subsided for the most part, but blink rapidly to adjust to the morning light streaming through the window.

    "How long have I been out?" I finally manage, my voice hoarse.

    "About a day. The doctor says you should be fine to go to school today. No concussion, just a pretty nasty bruise. If it hurts you can just go to the school nurse and ask for Ibuprofen."

    "How did I get here?" Getting out of bed, I carefully make my way to my closet and begin picking out my uniform.

    "A lovely boy brought you here. I forgot what his name was..." A smile instinctively spreads on my face, and I cut in, "I know. Rob is such a nice guy-"

    "No, his name wasn't Rob. It was, uh, Jimmy."

    "What?" I stop what I'm doing, puzzled. Some random guy brought me over? "What did he look like?"

    "Um, Blond hair, greenish eyes....and oddly enough, a black eye." Jaw dropping, I shoo Dara out of the room as I realize that the very boy who hurt me in the first place brought me home. I have to talk to him today. 

Once I arrive at school, I head to the front office right away to ask what class Jimmy is in, and then don't even bother to unpack my things; I just head straight to the classroom. I'll be honest-what I do next is just a little unorthodox, but I like to blame that on my head injury.

    "Jimmy! I'd like to speak to you!" I say sternly,  crossing my arms indignantly. The teacher stops mid-sentence to gaze at me in awe, no words coming out of her open mouth. These stuck-up teachers never see defiance in the classroom, so I take the opportunity to pull Jimmy from his seat as all the boys in the room cheer. Fuming, I don't even look at him until we are in an empty classroom and I shove him against the wall.

    "What the heck is wrong with you?!" I demand angrily. Saying nothing, Jimmy just looks at me intently  with his tongue resting lightly in between his teeth; his eyes travel to my hand, which is still on his chest, and I pull it away abruptly before stammering, "Well, say-say something!"

    "I didn't mean to hurt you, so  I wanted to help you by bringing you home."

Taken aback, I sit at one of the desks, deep in thought. "That wasn't exactly the answer I was expecting, I'll be honest...you sure seemed like you wanted to hurt me. Why did you beat up that guy, then?"

    "He insulted my mother." I chuckle, and he frowns, but I quickly add, "Sorry, it's just...that's such a cliche. Listen, right before you, uh...knocked me out and everything, it seemed like there was something more behind what you were doing. It was like you really hated me. Why?"

    "You're very straightforward."

    "Yeah, I guess I am. Now answer the question."

    "I don't know...why is it your business anyway?" He suddenly flares up again with that same defensive hatred, but instead of backing off like I should, I step forward from my seat so that my face is just inches from his. Not letting myself be phased by my proximity to him, I narrow my eyes threateningly, growling, "It's my business to find out why someone knocks me out. Not everyone is out to get you, Jimmy. Maybe there are some good people left in the world."

To my surprise, he actually takes a step back, face softening, and he says carefully casually, "I'll believe that when I see it. But from what I've seen, you're not like the others. That's why you should stay away from me." Although he does his best to remain expressionless, I know people well enough to know when they're being torn up inside-I know myself well enough.

    "You're going to have to do more than knock me out to scare me away from you." Without breaking eye contact, I silently dare him to try something, though my heart beats so quickly I'm afraid it will burst from my chest. His eyes are green, yet not like grass-they are hazel with drips of emerald. I always study a person's eyes, because they can say more about a person than you think. Rob's eyes reflect his composure, yet his internal passion. Jimmy's are just...lonely.

    Jimmy says nothing, though his lips are pressed together in defiance, so I step back and start to leave. His hand shoots out to stop me, and my breath catches in my throat.

    "I'll see you around." He states, and unlike most times that phrase is said, there's no question to it. He'll see me around. Oddly enough, I don't interpret it as a threat. Maybe it's an opportunity.

    "Yeah."