Rescue ▶▶A Hunter Hayes Faniction◀◀

SIX

    “Emrie Jenkins, no hoods in class,” Mr. Demone says, just as he walks in and starts to take attendance. Tessa, who is sitting behind me, tugs my hood off my bed forcefully. My hair flairs out like I just rolled down a mountain in a tornado. My cheeks flush, but thankfully my hair blocks the view of my bruised and cut eye. A few kids snicker.

    Mr. Demone, our English teacher, kicks class off. I plug my earbuds in and fall asleep. After Dad left my room last night, I was in too much pain and was too tired to finish my homework for Spanish class. I’m already failing the class, but I just wanted to go to sleep. Haley texted me as I was lying in bed to say goodnight. I didn’t tell her about me taking the blame for the scratch on the mustang, and I hope that she never does. When I woke up, my stomach was sore and still is, and my face where I got hit by the picture frame stung. It still kind of stings, but it isn’t unbearable. Whenever I move, my middle screams in agony. I think my ribs might be bruised from that one kick that Dad gave me.

Too soon, the bell rings, waking me up from my blissful nap. The rest of the day goes the same; I go to class, plug in my earbuds, go to sleep, and then get waken up by the bell. The only teacher so far that has cared was Ms. Jessen, but she saw how tired I looked when she woke me up and offered me to go to the nurse to sleep. I refused and decided to sleep throughout lunch. Nothing really happens, except for when I hear the mention of my name. I assume that it is a different Emrie, but then I’m pretty sure I vaguely hear someone call me a freak.

When I arrive to Spanish class, Hunter and I are the only ones in the class again. He’s sitting in the seat he took from me. I sit in my new seat. Before I get the chance to put my earbuds in my ear, a throat clears. I turn my head and see Hunter, leaning over on his knees as he is turned towards me. He smiles kindly, and then his eyes graze over my eye. I remember to cover it with my hair and try to casually block it. Hunter is still smiling but it seems a bit more strained.

“Hey, Emrie, I was wondering if you’d like to come stop by the music room again after school,” Hunter proposes, his elbows still resting on his knees.

I feel my pulse quicken. “Um… yeah. Yeah, I’ll be there.”

Hunter grins. “Cool.”

We turn back to our own desks, minding our own business. My cheeks burn bright. Why did he ask me? Does he really want to see me after school again?

Once class starts, I fall asleep, but then wake up to Mrs. Sanchez taking out my earbuds. Shoot, that was my last pair. She tsks and holds out her hand in front of me. “Homework?”

My face flushes. “Uh, I d-don’t have it.”

She gives me a look of distaste before moving on, collecting more homework from other students. I hear Danielle whisper, mocking me, “I-I d-don’t h-have i-it.”

I sink in my seat, pulling my hood over my head. Mrs. Sanchez usually doesn’t care about hoods or hats in class thankfully. I’m not bothered the rest of class, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t hear the whispers coming from Danielle, Tessa, Reese, and Mallory. Every time I hear their mean words, it makes me want to disappear. I sink further and further into my chair.

Once the bell rings for class to be over, I quickly leave so that I can spend more time listening to Hunter before I walk with Haley home. I pack my homework into my backpack and sling it over my shoulder before making a bee-line to the music room. As I near it, I start to hear him playing the piano. I don’t hear him singing this time.

I slowly walk in silently so he doesn’t notice, but I fail. Hunter turns and smiles at me, not stopping his fingers from dancing over the keys. The melody that seeps out of the instrument is beautiful. I don’t recognize the song.

When Hunter finishes the song, I clap lightly. He chuckles. “Thank you.”

“You’re really talented,” I say, making sure that I don’t stutter from my nervousness. “What’s that song called?”

He shrugs, casually playing a few chords before shaking out his hands. “It’s called Wanted.”

“Did you write it?”

“Yeah.” He blushes slightly.

I figure that he won’t want to talk about what it’s about, so I ask, “Does it have any words?”

He smiles. It’s cute. “Yeah.” His demeanor suddenly changes. “Do you mind if I asked about what happened to your eye?”

On instinct I bring my hand up to it and touch it tenderly with my fingertips. “Oh. Well, it was an accident. I’m a very clumsy person.” Please buy the lie, please buy the lie.

Hunter purses his lips, then plays a single chord on the piano again. “If you say so.” He says it quietly under his breath, probably not meaning for me to hear it. I pretend like I don’t as he looks up at me again. “Would you like to learn a song or a few chords?”

I check the time on my phone. “I would like to,” I say, wiping off my sweaty hands on my jeans, “but I have to go home now.” I duck out of the room as Hunter says that he’ll see me tomorrow.

When I exit the school, I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding in. The deep exhale of oxygen causes my side to ache, pain radiating from my ribs. I gasp quietly.

When I reach Haley at her school, I spot her talking with a boy her age. He’s a little cutie. When they part, Haley skips over to me and squeals incoherently. I laugh at her goofiness.

“Was that Jonathan?” I ask, pointing.

Haley nods. “Yeah! And guess what he- what happened to your face?” Haley reaches up towards me, but I move back.

“Oh, this? Yeah, high school gym class stinks.”

Haley gives me a flat look. “You don’t take gym classes.” Worry fills her features. “Oh my gosh, did Dad do that?” Before I can even answer, she’s running her hands through her light blonde hair. “You took the blame for the scratch on the mustang, didn’t you? I knew I should’ve stayed home-”

“Haley,” I say, stopping her. “I’m your older sister and I won’t let you get hurt. It’s my job. Okay?”

She frowns. “That’s not fair. I’m the one who deserves the punishment, not you.”

I pull her in for a hug, even though it hurts. I run my hand down her hair and pat her head. “You don’t deserve punishment.”

“Neither do you.”