Her Suicide Note

Chapter Seven

Adrian
I have Spanish III with Bianca as well and we sit beside each other in the back of the classroom. I understand why Señora Santiago situated me back here, I'm, hands down, the biggest person here, but Bianca's as short as I am tall which makes me wonder how she gets nothing but As in here; not that I've peeked over to see all those fat red A+s on the top of every paper.
Her elbow knocks her mechanical pencil onto the floor and I'm quick to pick it up and straighten it back onto her desk.
"Uh, thanks," she mumbles.
I know I'm going overboard and she probably thinks I'm psychotic even though her face doesn't reveal anything, but I'm really nervous.
I want to do right by her since Nathan couldn't do right by Lisa. I still have yet to know what exactly happened, but I know that whatever did go down, it led Lisa to her death, and Bianca to a life that consists of a forever broken heart and a dead soul rattling around in her chest.
Her death has taken such a toll on Bianca. I know by the way her face easily settles into a tired, torn up expression when she thinks no one is looking.
We break for lunch in the middle of Spanish and I wait for Bianca by the door as everyone else files out past me. I see her take a book out from her bag as she stands.
"What are you waiting for?" she asks, her eyebrows partly knit together by confusion.
"You," I say, laughing a little as if it's obvious. I kick the door open for her.
"We're not going to the same place," she tells me. "I'm heading to the library."
"Oh, come on, come get something to eat with me," I beg. "You can sit with me and my friends."
My friends as in Mason and the knuckle headed teammates he's started to hang with.
"It'll be fine, I promise."
"No," Bianca says firmly. "I can't go in there."
I look at her closely and see her chewing on her lip, a sign of a crack in her otherwise calm expression. "Please don't make me go in there."
Did she just beg? I wonder what body parts I'll lose if I provide some comfort.
A pat on the head=five fingers
Hand holding=a broken wrist
A hug=both arms
I result to taking her hand in mine because a broken wrist is better than losing anything I'm going to need later on. Surprisingly she doesn't snatch away. Her shoulders slump and she gives my hand a small squeeze which makes my heart pound a little harder.

Bianca tunes all of us out at lunch. The only thing taking up her place on the table is the huge Harry Potter book cracked open to a set of pages smack in the middle of the story.
Bianca was surprised to see that the food had gotten better since she had been here last, but that still didn't mean she was going through the lunch line.
Her lips are slightly parted as she peers down at the small words from J.K. Rowling. Can reading really small font damage your sight?
I push a fry from my tray past her lips and she catches it with her teeth, probably not even realizing her actions.
All of a sudden, Nathan comes up and plops himself between Bianca and Mason. The only acknowledgement of his presence Bianca gives is a slight tense of the shoulders.
"Hey, Adrian, Mace," Nathan greets before nodding his head towards the three other guys sitting at the table. He turns his head purposefully slow towards Bianca. "Caribbean."
"Nathan," Bianca replies primly, turning the page. She looks up and fixes his smug face with a cool gaze. "And it's Bianca."
"But I always call you Caribbean," Nathan simpers, though his bite is less harsh.
"Yeah, well things have changed," Bianca states coolly, looking back down at the book again. "And if you want me to even look in your general direction, you'll address me as Bianca, nothing else."
I can't help but laugh a little under my breath. She's handling herself amazingly well. Yeah, Bianca, can be really shy, but she has a type of confidence buried within her that she brings out at times when necessary.
By the way Nathan's basically sputtering for a response, I'm guessing he's never seen this side of her before.
"I think the response your trying to say is, 'Yes, Bianca'," Bianca prompts as Nathan's face goes redder by the second.
The other guys, including Mason, exchange shocked looks with each other. No one's ever spoken to Nathan this way and underneath their surprise is a smugness at seeing him get a taste of his own medicine.
"Look, Cari-"
The table lurches and Nathan's simmering anger turns into pain as he cries out. He snaps his head back in Bianca's direction and raises his hand.
I tense, clenching my fist, ready to send it flying across Bianca, but she doesn't even so much as flinch. She just looks on with a blank expression as Nathan's palm slams down on the table instead, making the items on it jump.
"What did you do?" I ask, whispering in her ear.
"All I did was step on his foot." She shrugs. "I don't know why he's being so overdramatic."
Nathan looks at her with wide eyes as if not believing her nonchalance. A little reluctantly, I understand his pain. If she can punch like a grown man, imagine what she can do with her feet.

Bianca has barely turned from closing her locker Friday morning when I hold up a ticket in front of her face. Glancing up at me curiously, she takes it and peers down.
"The football game tonight?" she questions, looking up at me for confirmation.
"Tonight's our homecoming game against West Side. They've only been talking about it on the announcements for a month now," I explain.
Our homecoming game was originally supposed to be two weeks ago, but with Dylan's death-he was one of Coach Jackson's favorite players-and then Lisa's, school activities had kinda skittered to a halt.
"Sorry," Bianca says, handing the ticket back. "I'm not into the whole football vibe."
"Please," I beg, poking out my bottom lip. "I really want you to go."
"Why?"
To get you more involved? To ease some of your depression by having you do something fun and normal? To have you leave the protective world you've built for yourself since Lisa offed herself?
But I can't say any of that because she doesn't want to be friends. Plus, the last one just sounded plain harsh.
"Because, as your butler, I want to have my eye on you for as long as possible," I say instead.
"You're not even gonna be paying attention to me. You're gonna be playing the game."
"I mean, I want you close to me," I say, trying to keep the exasperation out of my voice. Does she have to question everything? "I can't leave my employer unprotected on a Friday night?"
She quirks an eyebrow up at me, a smirk on her face, and I hold my hand up to stop any possible smart-ass comments. "Can you let me keep my pride intact, please?"
She sighs, scratching her hairline. "Fine," she groans, though I know she's not really grumpy about going. "But if you look up and see I'm not paying attention, don't get mad."
"Can you at least pretend?" I question.
She huffs. "I swear, you ask for too much. We'll see."