Dark Wolfe

3- No hablo español

(Song of the chapter: Scars to Your Beautiful - Alessia Cara)

I've got this place
That I've filled with empty space
Oh I'm trying not to face what I've done
My hopeless opus

I counted the cracks in the sidewalk as I made my way to school, listening to music from my favorite band. 

Over the weekend I'd fully recovered from almost drowning at the hands of a schoolmate and nearly being shot by cops, and now I was ready for life as usual to resume. Which, honestly, included even more horrors.

I'm in this race and I'm hoping just to place
Oh I'm trying not to face what's become of me
My hopeless opus

Rounding the corner, I pondered those lyrics. I was almost always in a race – against my bullies and others who tried to hurt me. Sometimes even against those who loved me. Placing in the race would mean that it was finally over and I didn't have to keep running anymore. I wanted that so, so badly.

Then I looked up and saw him standing there. Guess you'd better start running again, a voice drifting from my unconscious warned.

I usually made it to school twenty minutes early, in order to beat the hallway traffic and also to avoid having my day get off on a bad start because some bully managed to splatter me with something heinous before 8:30AM in the morning, but there stood the leader of them all standing just a few feet away from me.

I froze in surprise, not expecting to see him there. I'd become so used to having my mornings free of confrontations, I'd gotten lazy about covering my tracks and hadn't even taken the time to switch up my routine. And now Jacques knew my pattern. I hated the feeling of helplessness that washed over me.

Jacques smirked at my expression. He remained leaning against the building, tossing a football in his hand and just...watched me. 

He didn't look like he was in a hurry to approach so I felt a tad better, but I did not like the look on his face, not one bit.

"Are you stalking me now, you psycho?" I called across to him, my tone snappy to mask my fear. "That is fucking creepy, Jacques."

"Well, good morning to you too," he drawled, straightening. I immediately stepped back, putting more distance between us. His lip twitched at my reaction.

"I just want to talk," he said. "I'm not gonna hurt you. Not yet, anyways."

"I don't believe you and I don't want to talk to you!" I called back, wincing at my volume. Jacques was just speaking normally yet here I was, nearly yelling even though he wasn't that far away from me. I was too scared out of my mind and really didn't want to listen to whatever he wanted to talk about. He'd never wanted to just talk before.

I needed to calm down. I am a badass assassin, I told myself. 

I've infiltrated super-secret government facilities and I know ten different ways to kill a person with a can opener. This punk-ass high school student is nothing to me.

My mind immediately cleared of all thoughts when said punk-ass started walking towards me. I frantically backpedaled and stupidly, stupidly, backed myself into a tree.

Jacques's smile was a baring of teeth as he closed in on me. The hand not holding onto the football slammed into the tree at the other side of me, cutting off my exit.

"See, now you don't have a choice." Jacques leaned down to look at my face with a pretentiously thoughtful expression.

"Why do you always have to make everything ten times more difficult, Loner?"