Chapter 4

                                    

                                          

Callista Miller 
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Never knew weekends could be so exhausting. My muscles ached, dark circles under my eyes testifying to sleepless nights spent thinking about the blue-eyed boy. Ignoring the usual hustle and bustle of the school hallway, I walked toward my first class with my bag slung over my shoulder, deliberately bypassing my locker to avoid Becky. The party from the weekend still lingered in my mind. The classroom, as expected, was empty, with desks and chairs in their original places, though this would soon change once the bell rang and students filled the room. 
I took my usual seat by the window, glancing outside at the crowded parking lot, searching for any of the cars belonging to the five delinquent boys or, more importantly, for them themselves. When I found nothing, I shifted my gaze to the bright blue sky, clear and cloudless. The air was filled with the fragrance of blooming flowers, gently touching my skin, warming my body with its heat. The noise of chatter, cars, bikes, and bicycles blended into a cacophony, but my mind was focused elsewhere-specifically on someone whom everyone feared but me. It was ironic; I feared those who feared him. I wondered if I would ever be able to talk to him. Meeting him had been unexpected, a once-in-a-lifetime incident. He attended school and classes sporadically and rarely stayed in one class, making our meetings exceedingly rare. 
In a hypothetical situation, if we were to meet, would I muster the courage to express my feelings for him? It would be as daring as bungee jumping. If he heard me, what then? Would he become my friend or my boyfriend? His reckless and random nature made such outcomes unpredictable. His closed-off demeanor did not help either. I sighed; it was just wishful thinking. Even in my imagination, picturing him as my boyfriend seemed implausible. 
The bell rang, jolting me back to reality. Students began to fill the classroom, and I took out the books and notebook from my bag, hoping Mrs. Benson would arrive before Becky could approach me. I could still feel the anger simmering in my mind. 
"Sorry!" I squeaked, not bothering to look at the person I bumped into as I continued running. Students stared at me curiously amidst the chatter. I could hear footsteps behind me, growing closer. Becky's voice called out for me to stop, making me push my legs faster despite the ache and the heaviness in my chest. As I successfully evaded her in the classroom, I did not want to talk to her, even if it seemed childish. My aimless running through the hallways led me to collide with someone, sending me crashing to the floor. 
A wince escaped my lips as I rubbed the throbbing area. Becky rushed to my side, her face etched with concern. 
"Are you okay?" she asked softly. Before I could respond, a voice snarled, "Who dared to push me?" 
Looking up, my heart leaped into my throat. One of the bullies stood before me and Becky, scowling. Gulping down my nerves, I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. The pain was momentarily forgotten as he roughly hauled me up by my hoodie and slammed me against a locker with such force that I saw black for a second. The cold metal seared into my back, and I tasted blood on my tongue, having bitten my lower lip. 
"Hey! Leave her! I said leave her, you demented lunatic!" Becky shouted, trying to push him away, but he shrugged her off harshly, making her fall among the students who watched the scene unfold. His friends restrained her from coming to my aid. Was this it? Was I going to be slaughtered like a sheep? His evil smirk promised a dire fate. My throat was clogged with fear, leaving me speechless. 
He continued to press me against the locker, the handle digging painfully into my back. I grasped his hands, trying to push them away, but he only pressed harder, each second increasing the pain. Hissing and wincing, I tried to pull his hands away, but it was futile.