1994 (TATE LANGDON FANFIC)

Three

The only reason I'm to school after the weekend is for one purpose only.

Jodie.

Truthfully I'm fascinated by the idea of her and not enough by her. For instance, she's not even here but she's leading me on. Her lips, her eyes, her nose embroidered onto my brain. And her name cut into my arm. 

I look down at it. 

The scars have barely healed. Still such a frightening shade of red as the day I drove myself to put a knife so deep into my flesh. I wince as I remember the pain.

She looks so timid like a mouse so I don't want to scare her away. My one desire is to kiss her neck as I've thought about all weekend. I can teach her to be confident. Everyone is confident when they're in love.

I can feel my classmate's eyes on me as I walk down the halls. To the beat of each step, another student raises their head to get a good look at the guy that threatened Kyle, the quarterback. Anyone who was rumoured to do such a thing is obviously mad. That's why I've made front page-level gossip.

"Tate! You little shit!" I turn to see Michael, a couple of others and an angry Kyle calling my name.

I'm short compared to these 6-foot athletes. Just them raising their voice would startle me but instead, they look smugly at each other.

"What?" I reply. I wasn't up for doing this charade again.

"Your nose looks broken, from where I punched you in the face!"

This is the peak of all humour according to his friends. They laugh so violently in my face but I still wasn't getting the joke. 

The halls of the school anticipate my next move. I cannot punch here so my hands lay firmly by my side. Physical violence isn't really my scene anyway.

Kyle grins at me. His eyes are wide like a madman and his mouth is stretched like the Cheshire cat. Why do I fascinate him so much?

"God, do something Langdon! Your such a fucking bore."

 In that split second the bell rings signifying the first lesson of the day. Right before we get washed away by the sea of students, I stamp on his foot and once again make my getaway. This is all way too familiar.

 I push past students, propelling myself forward. Without turning my head, I can feel the eyes of many irritated jocks following me down the halls. I race them so far I lose track of where I want to go. The crowds won't shield me so I  stumble through the school doors into the outdoor seating area. As I scan the area for an exit I come to the conclusion that I've been caught in my very own mousetrap. 

I let out a shaky breath. I'm going to be feeling the full force of a pack of furious jocks any second now. 

Impatiently, my eyes flicker towards the doorway. Nothing pounces out at me so my breathing slowly steadies. I would suppose they didn't even bother to follow me. My fists unclench like I'm withdrawing my weapons.

So there I stand outside the school, with no intention of going back. For what feels like the first time in years I take a look at the sky. It's blue. What a surprise in LA. However, what really captivates is that I can spot the moon. It's so adamant not to disappear even though it's working on the sun's shift. 

My ears prickle when I hear a sudden shuffle. 

"Oh fuck!" whimpers a foreign voice. My eyes dart across the tables and there she lays behind one of the tables like a wounded deer. It's my Jodie. Her face is saddened by something that is troubling her terribly. She reminds me of those women in the paintings that never smile but you can never figure out what is the root of their sorrow. A modern-day Mona Lisa.