Hooked (teenlock)

Chapter Two

In first period Italian the next day, the clock moved slowly, taunting me from its place on the wall behind the teacher's desk. I hadn't seen the boy that morning, and I wasn't sure whether or not I would be able to see him at all over the course of the day. These thoughts distracted me throughout the teacher's lesson, and I was caught off guard when she called on me to answer a question.

My head snapped up from its relaxed position upon hearing my name. "Sorry, what?"

The entire class snickered. I heard a bit of whispering. Of course, it never seemed such a big deal when any of the other students made a mistake, but anything I did wrong was like a lion being frightened by a gazelle: out of place, out of character, and, simply, incorrect.

The teacher smiled, but not in a friendly way. She seemed to be laughing at me. She was no exception to the rule that every single person in this school despised me. "I said, what is a synonym for Grande?"

"Enorme," I answered quickly, trying to rid myself of so much attention. It didn't leave easily, and I felt the judgmental stares of my classmates throughout the rest of class.

It felt like years had passed by the time the lunch bell rang, and I was tempted to sprint to the cafeteria (of course, I resisted the temptation; there was no use in drawing extra, unnecessary attention to myself). After purchasing my food, I lingered in the cafeteria. Despite the ridicule I got from everyone, I hung around the lunch tables, scanning them for any sign of the boy. Nothing.

Giving up and believing he was absent, I stormed towards the library and back into the bathroom. Slamming my tray onto the paper towel dispenser, I collapsed against the tile wall, head in my hands. How could someone do this to me emotionally? And a guy, no less? I'd never felt so strongly about anyone or anything in my life, and the feelings were coming over me like a tidal wave, threatening to drown me if I didn't swim well enough.

Something crunched from a few feet in front of me, and I raised my head too quickly, slamming it against the wall.

The cruncher laughed. "You're definitely a strange one, I'll give you that."

The words appeared all around him, but I didn't need them today. The boy was back, staring me directly in the face. There weren't enough words in the world to say the things I thought about him.

Despite my poetic, emotional thoughts, my words were clumsy. "You're the kid- you're back here? Why?"

He shrugged. "Haven't got anywhere else to go, I suppose. Your head okay? That sounded kind of painful."

I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment, trying to regain my usual composure. "Of course my head is alright." I tried to stand, just to prove my point, but was met with a sudden dizziness and sat down again.

"I don't think you are." He laughed a bit, but it wasn't the kind of laughter I was used to. He sounded nervous, innocent- almost worried about me. People never seemed to worry about me anymore. If anything, they wished bad things upon me most of the time.

"I think I may have to agree with you."

His eyes lit up. "Ooh! Do you want me to test you for a concussion? I haven't tried it yet, but I read an article online about it and was just fascinated. Did you know that-" He noticed my confused look and stopped talking. "Sorry."

I waved away his apology. "No, please. Continue."

He blushed. "It's just a stupid little-"

"It isn't stupid. It's something you're passionate about. Tell me more."

The boy smiled at me and continued talking about the concussion article. I tried to pay attention, but was distracted by the pain in the back of my head as well as the butterflies in my stomach.