Wheelchair Accessible

Part Two

People practically dove out of the way as I stalked through the halls, hoping to avoid the wrath they assumed I'd send their way if they so happened to make eye contact with me. Like I was some monster. Intimidating. Someone to be feared. A plauge.

I never used to be that guy. Nobody would have described me as 'scary' or 'intimidating', unless I was on the field. I was considered to be friendly, a 'nice guy'. People used to like talking to me. Hanging out with me. Looking at me.

After everything that happened at the beginning of the year, my reputation had taken a drastic turn for the worse. I hadn't gone out of my way to continually be rude to anyone, or pick on people or anything like that, but it was as if I'd become the school's bully. A wholly new person than I had been only weeks before. 

Over a few dumb words.

But I wouldn't take them back. Although I had said them in a moment of passion and anger, maybe even a bit of hurt, they had been raw and real; which was more than I could say about anyone in this school. 

I wouldn't have minded the new start so much -- getting to be someone new does have its perks-- if I wasn't in high school. Because in high school, there's no real escape from your past and who you've been. Someone always knows. Someone always remembers. And they'll hold you to it, and hold it against you. 

I know people keep telling me that things will be different once I graduate, that life after high school is so much better and has less drama and blah blah blah. 

Yeah, great. Except I'm not graduated and I'm still here. And it sucks. 

Every. single. day. sucks. 

I wanted to be done with it. With all of it. And maybe I would be soon. 

 I could care less what my label was, I just wanted people to leave me alone. Or at least, glance at me... either one.

   Someone's shoulder slammed into mine, and I twisted to see a group of my 'teammates' pass by, laughing obnoxiously together about something that happened at a party I wasn't invited to. 

Whatever. I didn't care. I didn't need anyone. I wasn't going to bow down to the pressures these stupid people put on me. I was my own person and I had worth and crap like that. I didn't need anyone else. 

*** 

Compared to the last time I walked this path, I was feeling a lot better. I had stopped at the store and grabbed some bags of Dorito's on my way home, so I was at least a seven out of ten. Which was pretty good for me. 

Dorito's just did that, you know? One bag of Dorito's could turn a whole day around, I always say.

And I was still munching on my second bag of the day when an oddly familiar voice called out to me, "Hey! Markus!"

I turned my head to look, despite the fact that nobody ever called me that, and spotted the girl in the wheelchair from earlier that week, sitting next to a picnic table with a curly-haired blonde girl beside her. I nodded once in recognition, but kept on walking until she called out again, "Mark!"

 I breathed heavily through my nose, and slowly turned my shoulders to face her. "What?"

"Come here," she waved her hand, drawing more attention to us. "Come on!"

Huffing, I tried to ignore the sets of eyes I felt on my back as I made my way over to her. "What?" I repeated, awkwardly glancing between Shawna and her friend. 

"Can I have a Dorito?" she asked, already reaching into my bag and stealing an overflowing handful of my chips.

I blinked.

...People did not take my food.

Especially not my Dorito's.

"Thanks man," she told me, her mouth full. "Dorito's can just make a whole day better, you know?"

I think I felt my eye twitched.

"Oh hey, this is Allison," Shawna beamed, gesturing to the blonde next to her with her orange dusted fingertips. Allison smiled and said hello, while I did some sort of nod, trying not to murder Shawna with a glare as she licked her fingers clean. "Allison, this is Mark, the guy I ran over the other day."

"Sweet," Allison nodded, "it's nice to meet you, Mark."

Before I could answer, Shawna jumped in, "Ah, but do you really mean that, Alli?" Shawna sent me a look, her blue eyes twinkling brightly. "Mark's very particular about what he says, aren't you, Mark?"

"Not that you would know, considering we've talked for less than five minutes..." I told her, a little irked. She didn't know anything about me.

And she still had a speck of Dorito dust on her thumb.

"Well—"

"Before you two start arguing," her friend cut her off. "I did mean it. You help my friend, you're my friend," she told me.

"That's not really necessary..." I started. The last thing I needed was these two thinking of me as their 'friend'.

Yeah, don't sign me up for that. 

"Nonsense," Shawna waved me off. "Like I said, your help yesterday was appreciated and you're a national hero now."

I tapped my fingers against the side of my leg and glanced over my shoulder. Maybe if I went along with her, I could get out of here faster. "Sure. Look, I--"

"What school do you go to?" Shawna interrupted.

I sighed, "Jefferson."

The two girls shared a look. "I guess that's why we've never seen him before," Allison said, before turning back to me. "We go to Jubilee out there on the North side."

"Okay," I muttered, not really caring. Shawna looked like she was going to laugh, so I quickly continued, "Look, I've got to get going, so sorry to end our little bonding session, but I'm leaving."

This was also funny to Shawna for some reason. "Oh Mark, I don't think you actually mean that you're sorry." I let out and exhausted huff and she raised her hands in surrender, "Okay, okay, I'll get over that," she smiled. "But you should hang out with us!"

"No."

She grinned like she had been expecting that, "Alright, alright, see you around tough guy."

The nickname wasn't necessary or appreciated, but she was letting me leave so I was going to miss my chance. "Bye."

I hurried down the path before she could try and lure me back there with some other trick. Like seriously, who just takes someones Doritos? I feel like it's quite obvious that I'm not the type of guy you mess with about food. I mean she has to be stupid to--

  Breathe, man.

If I was going to keep running into her, I might have to find a new route home. For my sake, and for the sake of my snacks.