Out Of Sight, Out Of Mind - Treebros

Chapter 1 - "Eyes"

  Wednesday, September 12th

I feel them before I see them.

A prickle in the back of my neck, a ghost running its fingers over the ridges of my spine.

Eyes.

They're gone when I turn around. 

I face the front of the room again, brushing it off as nothing. Just my anxiety making me think someone's staring at me.

Instead of focusing on the Mystery Starer, I watch the whiteboard as Mr. Abdul goes over the syllabus. No one was staring at me, the feeling was nothing more than first week jitters.

A tingling sensation races across the spot where my shoulder blades meet, causing me to hunch them in defense and spin back around in my chair.

Someone definitely was watching me.

But, again, no one was looking at me. I scan the room, looking at these people who I'd never spoken to before. It was my senior year and yet I barely knew these peoples names.

Most of them, sure, I know their names. But what I remembered them for was what they'd done. The girl in my Chemistry class last year who once asked me for the homework. The boy who, in sophomore year, called an upperclassman who'd tripped me an asshole. The girl who reassured me after I'd dropped the ball in Gym a few semesters ago.

"Something wrong, Mr. Hansen?" Mr. Abdul's voice rings out. I'd been turned around for too long.

Now I was definitely being watched. Everyone was looking at me, the secondhand embarrassment of someone getting yelled at spreading around the room like toxic gas.

"N-no! Nothing, uh, sorry," I say, shrinking into my seat in an attempt to disappear. If I only looked at my desk, maybe I could pretend this wasn't happening.

"Hm," he hums. I glance up apologetically, finding him glaring at someone behind me. "Stop goofing off before I move your seat."

I was so stupid. So very stupid. I turn my head around in hopes that he was talking to the Mystery Starer and I could find out who they were. But they weren't looking up anymore.

"Focus!" Mr. Abdul reprimands, and I turn beet red. My heartbeat was louder than his voice, and I want to throw up. To run and never show my face again.

They all hated me now. The whole class. And Mr. Abdul, especially. I had already cemented my spot as someone who interrupted class for stupid reasons, and it was only the first week.

And hour and a half long classes never felt so tedious. I'd spent all of my high school career staring at the clock, and now all I was doing was staring at my desk. If I looked at the clock then I might make eye contact with Mr. Abdul, and I would rather die than that happen.

The only thing that's keeping me from losing me was the fact that it can't last forever.

And just before it hit forever, the bell rang. I slump in my seat, and grab my bag. Usually I wait for 5 other people to leave before I do. That way I'm not last, and I'm not first. Enough time to get to 4th block without being the first one in class.

But I was too hopeful. Before I could dash out of the room, Mr. Abdul stopped me.

"Mr. Hansen, Mr. Murphy. A word?" He calls, and the hope in me dies.

Murphy? Connor?

I see his shadow stop in the corner of my eye, and I silently prayed that the ground would swallow me whole.