Ravenna

Chapter 12

    Everything you're running away from is in your head...

   
          The bell to lunch break finally makes it breakthrough and I heave a sigh of relief, grabbing my backpack which I had tossed at the foot of my table. The teacher tries getting the last minute assignment to the students but some of them are already out the door.

              "Ravenna, if you don't mind waiting back?" Ms Styler, the history teacher stops me when I reach the front of the class. She awaits the leave of every other student in the class before settling behind her desk, with interlocked fingers, staring at me.

           "Yes?" I say impatiently when she doesn't seem to want to get on with her speech.

          "Ravenna, the principal would like to see you..."

        "Then why am I bloody talking to you?" I interrupt her before she can go on and her eyes shut tightly. She seems to be taking calming breaths before she attempts talking to me again.

          "As impressed and awed as we teachers have been by how smart you actually appeared to be..."

           "Should you be indirectly insulting a student?" I cut in again, my anger rising. Was she trying to say they all thought I was dumb at first?

           Her palm slams against her wooden table and her eyes fiercely pierce through mine. "If you would just let me finish!"

      There we go. Somehow getting people to give away their bloody façade gave me so much joy. Their pretense was most definitely not fooling anybody. Most especially not me.

           "Your grades happen to be unstable in calculus." She says and my jaw drops.

           "You're the history teacher, how do you even know this?" I ask.

             "I'm also in charge of students affair, just in case you haven't noticed," She points out. "Also, the principal is unimpressed with your choice of wearing a leather jacket over the uniform and would like you to take it off."

           "I'm going to see the woman but I sure as hell ain't taking off my jacket." I put on my best fake smile, adjusting the strap of my bag. "Anything else?"

            "Oh...um...yes," she stutters arranging some papers in front of her. "Miss Hunter will be your tutor in calculus starting today after school."

        "Who the hell is that?" I arch a brow at the unfamiliar name.

           "Zoie Hunter, I believe you know her, you both share calculus..."

          Zoie. The name sparks up a memory and I recall her from the cafeteria, the one I'd pissed off when I cut through lines. The one that didn't take shit. The one I was impressed with.

            "Oh, I definitely know her," I grin to myself. "Nice choice."

                                      ×××

         "Don't tell me you don't get lonely." A voice whispers behind me while I do my best to avoid staring at the rays of sunlight over head. I'd decided to eat in the outside cafeteria today and while it was disturbingly empty, it was also very soothing. Gave me time to think. But not anymore seeing as my personal space was being invaded.

         I turn around and a pang of disappointment hits me when the one I'm expecting is not who I find. I also lock my eyes, trying to think of a reason why I'd even be expecting him to be here. I'm faced with two boys, each with brown hair and an ugly smirk I knew all too well.

        The tallest of them grabs the apple I had placed on my food tray and plays around with it in his fingers.

             "Drop it." I say, trying to keep my overly reactive anger. I knew nothing good ever came out of me getting angry in school.

           "Or what?" The boy immediately launches his question at me. "You're going to point your little toy at me like you did with Taylor?"

            "She probably thinks we're scared of her Byron." The least taller one chuckles, referring to the one who had grabbed my apple.

             "I await your leave." I force a smile.

        "Oh C'mon, we just want to have some fun," Byron says, swiftly smacking my ass with a brief squeeze. All part of my body sends signal to my brain at the improper touch and my anger surfaces.

         "Are you a momma's boy?" I immediately ask, clenching my teeth.

          "What the fuck?" The other boy cusses at my question.

         "You don't seem like one," I give Byron a hard shove, slamming him on to my table. The content of my tray spill away, some landing on the floor, others on Byron's uniform. "She'd have given you a proper lesson on how to treat girls then"

       I dramatically pull out my pocket knife in the scariest way and the other guy leans closer to me, I immediately point the knife at him and he steps back, raising his hands in defense.

           "Byron, that doesn't look like plastic." He states, a look of fear now glued to his face.

             "No shit Sherlock." Byron coughs when my palm wraps around his neck. I hover over him, my knife still pointed at his posse.

            "I might be a girl," I retreat the knife from the other guy's face and bring it directly to Byron's cheek bone. "But I most definitely do not appreciate being treated awfully because of my gender."

      The tip of my knife comes in contact with Byron's face and he winces out in pain. "And you obviously need to go back home to your mom and tell her to give you a proper three hundred and sixty five day long lesson on how to treat girls because boy, you really need it."

       My knife pulls down his face and his scream is worse than anything I've ever heard. His blood pools up against my palm but I ignore it. What's a little blood?