His chubby princess

Chap 8: Can't do this

"Princess", he calls out so I look up to see his pretty face with a reassuring smile on it. "That's it, just keep your eyes on me. No one else matters, okay?".

I nod.

We both take a seat with his directly opposite mine. With all this attention on me, it feels like it's the first day of school and I'm the new kid.

The teacher walks in and I stay focus with my eyes trained on the board. I just have to keep looking at it. Eyes on nothing else.

"Okay everyone.. pop quiz!", Mr Hamilton says and you know what comes next. Groans erupts from the four corners of the class and it's left for me to close my ears.

"It's gonna happen with or without your consent, now have your papers", Mr Hamilton says giving stacks to the front row seaters so they can pass it behind.

I take mine when it gets to me then pass the last one. I look down at the sheet of paper and the question it holds. It's not too hard.. infact, it's not hard at all.

It takes me like a minute or two to get a satisfying answer on my paper. I look up turning to my side to see Noah zoning off. I look at his paper. No ink on it yet. Well apart from the question which was already there.

"Abby Flenory.. stop looking at Noah's work. If you have nothing to write I suggest you come up to me with your blank sheet", Mr Hamilton says and Noah turns to me. He smiles and I flush pink looking back at my full paper.

When Mr Hamilton focuses on something else I turn back to Noah. He's eyes are already on me.

"Do you know what to write?", I question in a whisper even though I know the answer. He shakes his head as a reply.

"Ok, listen carefully", I say and he nods leaning a bit towards me.

I dictate the answer to him and with the corner of my eye I can see other people grabbing the information. The pens which were on breaks suddenly start to work, scribbling fast on the once empty sheets.

Mr Hamilton turns and everyone does too. I find myself painting my letters. They didn't need it though. They were already legible but I had to look like I was writing or else something might seem fishy. That is, if it doesn't already.

Something else catches Mr Hamilton's attention and we watch him move from the front of the class, where he rested on his desk, to someone's seat.

I begin again, helping out Noah and probably the other section of the class Mr Hamilton isn't onto. I watch Noah scribble the words that are flying out of my mouth into his work sheet. I guess I'm too engrossed in telling him and watching him write to notice Mr Hamilton walking up to me with the sternest look I've seen in my life.. ok no Mr Fornals, no one can beat that man in looking strict. It's like a talent.

"I guess this will be the end of your test Miss Flenory", Mr Hamilton says picking my work sheet from my table.

"But_", I try to speak out but I can't. My throat seems clogged up all of a sudden. Maybe it's because of the stares, the whispers, all the attention I'm involuntarily getting.

"No it's my fault", Everyone's eyes settle on the speaker just as mine does.

Mr Hamilton looks over at Noah who's apparently stretching out his paper to his reach. What is he doing?.

"Take mine too", he says not glancing at me. I gulp.

"No it's my fault", I say out loud. Loud enough for everyone to hear and maybe a passer by or two. It's almost like I yelled.

Noah and Mr Hamilton including the whole class now, turns to me. I nearly squirm due to the hot gaze of so many eyes on me.

I catch the glare Noah's tossing at me before looking away. I don't want him to remind me of the whole 'don't take the fall if you're not at fault' thing.

Mr Hamilton sighs, one that shows fatigue, then hands both our papers back to us. I'm fully surprised.

"Detention for the both of you", he says then retrieves to his desk. I sadly turn to Noah whose shaking his head at me, probably in disappointment. I sigh just like Mr Hamilton.

**

I leave the class early. I sacrifice to squish myself with the rest of the class just to get out and not meet up with Noah. I'm sure he'd think I'd still be in the class packing my things slowly. I head quickly to the bleachers. Another spot I eat lunch at.

I made turkey mayo sandwiches this morning at home today so I wouldn't get caught up in the lunch line or maybe I just don't want to see Loren and those cool kids.

I take a bite out of the bread covered in mayo with turkey fillings. I look at the sky, it's so serene. The wind seems so patient. And I find myself getting lost as I chew on my cold sandwich. I put it down, quickly getting my sketch book out of my bag. It's always on me. Just the way asthmatic people hold on to their inhalers, I hold on to my sketch book.

I look up, analyzing the sky and the clouds it holds, then back down to put what I've seen on my book. I sketch for a while, interrupting myself a few times to take a bite out of my sandwich, before pausing to just stare at the sky. I wish life could be as peaceful as it is.. but the sky isn't always peaceful. It's been through alot of rainy days and stormy nights.

I sigh.

**

One thing I dread is running. I know sometimes I jog on my own but that's fine cause it's on my own. I can stop to pant whenever, I can move at any desired pace and most of all, I can take a break at any time. It's all different when it comes to P.E. It's like a do or die affair.

I look up. The sun's flexing out it's rays and not that it's bad or anything but geez we know you're the sun, give us a break. I'm sweating so much I think I can fill a whole bucket. My armpit has the sleeve underneath all wet. God, I need a cold shower.

The preppy's and jocks walk down like it's a runway event and I'm wondering if there's gonna be a slow-mo. They stand away from the rest of the class like the school suddenly made an announcement saying the we had lice or something.

Coach walks in with his usual sports outfit and his bald head glittering in the sun. I bet I can make Mac n cheese on it. I lick my lips. Stop thinking about food Abby. I look away from the coach's head finding somewhere else to place my eyes. It unluckily finds refuge in the eyes of Noah. I look away grabbing my elbow tightly while I look down at my dirty converse.

"Alright everybody", Coach Peterson says grabbing everyone's attention. "Today's task is pretty easy", he says and I can feel my stomach churn at the way he called the class a task. It's definitely not easy.

"You all are gonna run_", He begins to say but I don't let him finish. I walk away to hold on to a tree. I let out a breath.

"I don't think I can do this", I say to myself.

"Why not?", He asks so I turn to see him looking down at me with worried eyes.

"It's nothing. I just.. I don't think I can finish it", I say reaching for my elbow again. His eyes flicker there before looking back at me.

"How bout we do it together?", He questions moving my arm so none held the other.

"Like run?", I ask and he nods. I instantly shake my head. If this was a years ago I'd gladly accept but it isn't. P.E classes were just Noah and I once but now it's a bunch of cool kids wanting his attention and I can't match up to that.

"It's alright I can do it on my own", I say taking my hands away from his. He opens his mouth to say something but closes it and ends up saying nothing just rendering me a calm look.

I walk away and back to the track where everyone's at now. Coach brings his whistle, which is around his neck with a rope, up to his mouth and my breath hitches in my throat. It's alright Abby you can tackle whatever he brings, he blows the whistle and I'm thinking maybe I can't do this after all.