In the Classroom

Chapter Twenty Six: Selfish

Horror would have been my original action. I couldn't even watch as the man was pulled away into a cop car. I barely heard it as the sirens flared, the signal of an ambulance making its way down the street.

"Damn it, Piper! Get down before the police see us!" snapped MJ, pulling me behind the chimney of the building. I couldn't speak. I could barely breath as the weight of my actions hit me like a punch.

I just killed a girl. A girl of fourteen. An innocent girl of fourteen.

"Listen, Piper! We've got to get out of here! Where's the nearest exit?!!"

Why? She didn't deserve to die. This is all my fault.

"Piper! Get a hold of yourself, man! I'll hit you—I swear it!"

Why am I here in the first place? I should be the one to die. I don't even deserve to live.

"Piper! Wake up, dammit!!"

I should just—

"If we stay here any longer, we'll get arrested, or worse—killed!!"

MJ's words finally penetrated my mind it was simple.

"I won't die because I don't want to," I told myself softly. MJ glared at me.

"What are you talking about?! Hurry up! Let's go!" he yelled at me. I regained control of my breathing and of my poker face. I stood up, brushing the dust from my knees.

"Yes. Let's go, MJ," I ordered without another look back at the crime scene.

* * *

I sat in the empty classroom. For once, my camera lay on the desk in front of me, untouched. I didn't have the urge to do anything but sulk. Not only was Jackson Alberts's daughter on my mind, but my brother was back in town. Like everyone else, I should be thrilled about Adam's return! But I wasn't. I hated the man who left me behind. I hated the man who saved me when I almost died, thinking he could still be a part of my life. I hated the man who had caressed me so gently. I looked at the sheet of paper in front of me. Like always, I had scribbled out on it whatever was on my mind the most. This time, it was my brother. He had short brown hair, mirroring our father's dashing looks. His eyes were the exact same shade as a pinon tree's needles. His hands were beckoning me forward from within the paper. My chest ached so badly. I wanted nothing more than to dive into the drawing, escaping into an old past and the arms of my loving brother. Still, this was a stupid desire. The brother I had once known was gone now. I recognized where this memory came from. This was a memory from when we were children--frolicking in the trees and escaping to our secret hideout in the forest. My brother was a big believer in freedom. He hated rules and regulations. He preferred doing whatever the hell he pleased. Sure that got him in trouble in school, but it helped him smile. My parents let us do whatever we wanted as long as our grades were good. It taught us something. "People don't care about our feelings as long as we look good." Even with a poor household, those aimless days of wonder had filled me with a kind of euphoria like none other. I shook my head from the memories, attempting to clear my thoughts. My brother had turned those innocent laughs to painful reminders of my old life. I picked up the paper and tore it in half viciously, as if thinking that the drawing was my own brother. I threw the pieces at the waste bin near the classroom's door. It hit the wall in my anger and landed on the basket rim. It then flopped onto the ground, missing the basket insides entirely. The door opened just as the paper fell and for a split second I anticipated that it was Adam, coming back to beg for my forgiveness. Instead, Sam entered, making the dimly lit room seem even brighter than before. He saw the crumpled ball of paper near the door and looked up at me quizzically

"I know that you're upset Adam has returned, Josh. That doesn't mean you need to mess up our classroom to get me to notice," he informed me nonchalantly I flushed and looked away from him, glaring at the desk the right of me to avoid meeting his gaze.

"Sorry," I muttered unhappily. Sam picked up the clump and dropped it into the bin smoothly.

"Are you ever planning on telling me about your main issue with your brother?" asked Sam in exasperation, crossing the room towards were I was seated.

"Are you planning on telling me your dirty little secret in return?" I retorted. Sam was the one to avert his gaze this time.

"Maybe I should," suggested Sam softly, making my blood run cold. "These secrets...they're killing us both." Sam came close to my desk. He raised his hand and gently touched my cheek. "We shouldn't have to be this bottled up about our emotions," said Sam sadly. I leaned into his touch, inhaling the smell of smoke.

"I love you, Joshua. I don't know why I can't tell you that I—I—" Sam trailed off, his voice strained and his eyes pained. I took his hand that was caressing my cheek and brought it to my lips, squeezing his fingers gently while I pressed my lips to his palm comfortingly.

"Don't." I dropped my hand and Sam's with it. His returned his hand to his side weakly. I looked at him coldly. "If you blame yourself...how am I supposed to react to that?"

Sam gave me a small smile. "Selfish as always," he said to me. I stood up, grabbing my camera.

"You're the exact opposite," I told him. I crossed over to the cabinet and carefully returned the camera to its velvet case and closed it into the box with the others. When I turned to close the door, I jumped in fright to find that Sam was right behind me. He placed each hand behind me, pressing his face close to mine while slamming the doors shut.

"That's not true. I'm quite selfish," he murmured, heat radiating off of his body. I tried to force the blush from rising to my cheeks, a very fruitless attempt.

"For example," breathed Sam, his face drawing exceptionally close to my own. "I will not share you with anyone." His lips were pressed to mine suddenly. I felt myself slump back against the cabinet. He pushed closer to me, shoving me back against the doors. I felt my resistance ebb away at the gentle urging of his lips. I gasped as his tongue flicked across my bottom lip. I subconsciously felt my own mouth open, imploring Sam's burning passion to incinerate me to a pile of ashes. His fingers were brought up to run through my hair and I felt a low groan build in the back of my throat against my will.

Adam.

One thought crossed my mind. I couldn't help it. In the context, I should have been very preoccupied with Sam's affections. Still, the name that flitted through my thoughts was enough for me to push away from Sam. I realized what I had done and I regretted it deeply. Before I could apologize to him, Sam's expression was guarded, his heart locked tight from where I could no longer reach.

"You've got to stop doing that," he told me coolly. I couldn't speak. I felt so bad about it, I didn't know how to respond. 'Sorry' did not cover how truly horrible I felt at that very moment. I could see my sadness reflected in Sam's eyes and how he angled his body away from me, like a frightened sparrow about to take flight.

"When you want to start acting like a real couple, then we'll pick up where we left off," promised Sam, all huskiness gone from his voice. Now it was a freezing monotone, threatening to blow through me with its icy winds. He swooped in for a final kiss on my cheek before I could react and then turned to walk out. He didn't look back.

I should have chased after him. But I didn't.