Over the Edge

Ch.8-Backtracking

And my stupid malfunctioning mind was what goaded me into standing up and turning in my partner's direction.

Rose's eyes widened. She made a slicing motion across her neck. "Don't go over there," she hissed. "Negative. No-go. He'll bite your face off!"

I sighed. "Rose, that image is both highly disturbing and implausible."

"Still!"

"Calm down. You're overreacting. If he pulls anything I'll scream. God forbid something happens with fifteen other kids sitting around five feet away."

She pouted at my sarcasm. "Fine." She turned back to Luke. He was talking with a few other guys and they instantly pulled her into the conversation.

I sucked in a deep breath, not having a clue what I was getting into, and walked over to sit beside him. I pulled out a chair and folded my hands atop the desk. His hands were clasped, head bent, and he was staring unblinkingly at them. But his eyes were unfocused, like his mind was far away.

"Rhys?"

He didn't respond. I noticed a twitch in his jaw.

"Rhys, are you okay?"

Still nothing. Hesitantly I touched his arm with my hand. He tensed beneath my touch.

"Rhys-"

"I don't fucking want to talk right now, okay?" he finally exploded, so loud any other conversations in the class dissipated. His muscles bulged and quaked. I could feel it, my hand still being on his arm and all. I wanted to move but I was paralyzed. He had pinned his brown eyes on me and I was captivated. They were the most expressive eyes I had ever seen. I could see every hurt, every emotional ache he was hiding away through the streaks in his irises.

The class was silent, apprehensive, as if everyone was holding their breath for what would happen next, me included.

We sat still, just staring at each other. Our faces, my worried mind couldn't help but notice, were inches apart and the only thing breaking the silence was his labored breathing. Heavy, angry breathing. I swallowed hard and removed my hand. His pallor was even worse up close.

"What's wrong?" I breathed, in such a way that only he could hear me. His eyes sparked, my voice the catalyst that spurred him into action.

"It's not your damn problem," he hissed, rising to his feet. On any other occasion I would have left him. I would have watched him storm out of the classroom and marked it off as nothing but his usual moody, temperamental self. But not this time. No, he wasn't going anywhere.

I jumped up and made myself a barricade when he tried to get through. I saw the irritation enter his eyes but I didn't let it sway me. If I let it sway me, I would show hesitation. And if I hesitated, he would pounce on that weakness, chew me up, and spit me out.

"Get out of my way," he ordered in a low, threatening voice.

I folded my arms over my chest. "No."

His eyes narrowed. "Get out of my way," he growled. "I won't ask again."

"No."

"Why the hell not?"

"Because I don't feel like it," I replied carefully, gauging his reaction. He wasn't too happy with my choice of words. "So sit back down."

He tried stepping around me but I just blocked his path again. "Move!"

"Not happening."

"Emma, I think you should move," Rose spoke up meekly from behind me.