Troublemakers

4

The school population may not be as much, perhaps that is exactly what contributes to the continuous stares and mutterings that I receive the next morning. I don't think being a new kid is the reason though. Sure, it's still in the week, but it's been four days, although-I-miss-one. News of yesterday event must've spread like wildfire.

Shuffling and arranging my books in the locker nice and neat is what I am doing or supposed to be doing but a loud bam puts a halt in my activity. I won't actually mind IF it doesn't involves me. However, the universe has been evolving around me lately. As you probably has expected, the bam is the sound of my head, merely banging on my own locker, hair yanked by a hand.

My head spins around, that must be what people call as vertigo. If this is a cartoon, crown of stars, birds, exclamation marks, question marks, hastag marks and etc should already be flying in a spiral motion above my very own head.

A crowd surrounds us, it has to be.

"How dare you hit on my boyfriend, you whore!?" A furious blonde girl with thick barbie mask yells at me, pushing me against the locker.

"Metaphorically or physically?" I groan, trying my bestest to be as calm as possible.

"Both you little slut!" she tugs me over again, making me face to face with the 'powder and friends' mask.

"Metaphorically, no I didn't. Physically, that was my bottle, not me." I manage to slip from her grip, holding her right hand that has been torturing me, twisting it behind her back and shove her towards her minions.

"How dare you lay your hand on me too, bitch!" she faces me back.

"Apology, your majesty. With all due respect, I have zero intention to join your petty kingdom, queen bitch." I mock her. Her anger level seems to hit the maximum. She marched forward and slap.

The horde of students goes shut. They don't even bother to move, everyone too busy sucking in their breath, especially the queen bitch. I flicker my eyes open and see her face real pale, whiter than any porcelain and mouth hanging wide open.

A groan breaks the silence.

"I-I.. I.. Ss-sorry." the queen bitch stutters, her head hanging low. Sorry, I know it's not the right time, but I actually forget her real name guys.

She runs away with her weaklings, so does the crowds, they scatter as quick.

The piece of cloth that I have been clutching tightly moves, I lose my grip. The back view of the person is now gone, replaced by the half-familiar face. I straighten my posture, my hands interwined together in a polite way in front of my stomach, then begin to fiddle from the nervousness.

"Eerrr... Thank you?" I peek at his totally pissed off face. The flush becomes visible on his left cheek. I clear my throat.

"Or maybe sorry? Or are you okay?" I look around anywhere but him. Meanwhile his hands are clenched in a tight fist, his never extinguishing fire eyes never leave mine, sharp and intimidating. You guys are probably aware of how blind and vague I am with people, but even that can't surpass his obviousness in showing his emotion. That's my clarification report.

He starts to fast-walk away.

"Uhh, V-Vin.. Or maybe Mr. Sylvester, why are you always near me then, stalker much?" I half-run, due to his loongg legs, attempting to catch up to make a point at him. Of course, simply to bump on his firm back. I stabilize myself as he turns his face to me.

"So, you know my name, especially surname.." his eyes less intimidating.

"Yes." I nod vigorously, proud to actually know something.