Mr. Player, You've Just Been Played.

My first story I've posted :) Hopefully it's not too bad, though :\

Also, I'm not trying to come off as a jerk, but this story isn't an advertising board. My message board isn't far off to load. I'll read your story, just be considerate.



*

     The sound of crying erupted, shadowing over the lectures echoing throughout the empty hall. In contrast to the students running late like me, there was suddenly a girl who threw open the janitor’s closet and came running out.

     Her mascara was smeared as was her eyeliner and every piece of makeup she had on. After a moment of watching her run away, I reluctantly turned away once she disappeared around the corner of the hall, and shoved my book from my last class into the locker. It was then that I heard the closet door open again, and shut rather loudly.

     Holding the locker with my hand to keep it open, I saw him walk out of the room. It became fairly obvious that he was the reason for the crying. It was also obvious that it was due to a dumping – another one, at that.

     I realized I had been glaring at him, shooting him looks someone would only throw at a person they truly hated. I was in no place to hate him, since in reality I’ve never even spoken to him, but his reputation shattered every nice opinion I’ve ever heard about him.

     “What?” he demanded, fixing the collar of his jacket. His mood didn’t seem to be as arrogant as it always was, but there was a trace of frustration in his tone. He had jerked his head to the side, to get a piece of black hair out of his eyes.

     I shook my head, hoping the little movement would be enough for him to ignore my presence. I hastily snatched my last book before shutting the locker. Setting the lock in place, I gathered the strap to my backpack that had been lying on the floor.

     “Do you need help?” My eyes widened.

     Crap.

     I glanced up, meeting his gaze, and shook my head again.

     Tightening my grip on my bag and my books, I began to pray I wouldn’t fall over. With a cautious and over exaggerated maneuver, I went around him.

     Once I began to believe I was off the hook as I walked away, I heard someone clear they’re throat. It wasn’t the type that came from congestion though, it was a noise made to grab someone’s attention. I glanced over my shoulder and saw him staring at me.

     I had been glancing around awkwardly when he said, “I know you can’t carry all that by yourself. It won’t be a hassle for me to help.”

     He walked up to me, extending a hand for my things. I tightened my lips and shook my head, hopefully for the last time. When I heard my own voice, I was a bit surprised that it wasn’t as cold as I imagined. “I can handle this just fine, but thanks for the offer.”

     I earned a puzzled look from him as I smiled half-heartedly and left him there.

     Once making my way to class – very late, by now – the teacher gave me a cold look as I opened the door and emerged, but simply wrote that I was tardy and told me to sit down. Following her instructions, I crossed the room quickly and took my desk near the windows on the far wall.

     “What happened to you?”

     Glancing to my right, I found that Katrina – the only girl in this whole school that I had the justice to say was my best friend – had asked. “Nothing, I walk too slow I guess.”

     “Ah,” she let out, then turned back to the teacher, picking up her pencil and tapping the desk absentmindedly.

     The door opened suddenly, and the same girl that I saw just a while ago came in. Her face had been cleaned, but the puffiness of her eyes was clear. It was evident that she took quite some time fixing her hair and making it seem as if everything was all right. She sat down towards the back of the class, and immediately began talking to her friends – answering every one of the hundred questions they threw at her once she sat down.