I Painted A Picture (Jalex)

There's This Ringing In My Head

Second period got out, and the hallway immediately exploded into passing-period rush. It wasn't even hallway rush hour yet, but it was still pandemonium. I was nearly eaten by a group of cheerleaders, and if looks could kill, Kellin Quinn would've brutally murdered me a thousand times. Guess Vic told him about that little misunderstanding we had that morning.

I got to third period in one piece, barely. I was starting to feel a bit panicky and out of control, but I assured myself it would go away.

The classroom was just as chaotic as the hallway. Half the kids were throwing paper airplanes, and the other half were screaming. Carefully, I walked in and took my seat.

People continued to stream in, either joining the existing chaos or creating new chaos as they tried to quiet the classroom down. I just had my head on my desk the whole time.

The bell rang for third period to start, and just like that the chaos died. Someone nudged me, and I almost had a heart attack, thinking it was some sort of pedophile.

But no. It was Jack. "Hey," I said awkwardly. "Didn't know you were in this class."

He opened his mouth to say something, but our math teacher, Mr. Sargent, cut him off. "Good morning class! In case you didn't know, we have a new student today." He gestured to Jack with his hands. "This is Jack, he moved here from Annapolis."

Jack awkwardly waved. I still felt like I was going to be attacked at any given moment.

Mr. Sargent jumped right in with the lesson, which was on geometry. I wasn't really paying attention, and I don't think Jack was either. Or any of the class, for that matter; I swear I saw Ashley Purdy put in his earbuds and hide them behind his hair.

I started daydreaming, because unless you're Ashley, there's no other way to kill class time. Jack's cute. Maybe he takes the bus here. What if I went and talked to him at lunch and found out? What if I said entirely the wrong thing and blew any chance I had at making friends with him? What if I missed the bus on the way home? I don't have a cell phone, how would I get home? What if I have a pop quiz in my next class and I fail? What if I fail a quiz that's not a pop quiz and that I actually studied for? What if I fail the entire semester?

The panicky feeling I'd had at the beginning of class wasn't going away. In fact, it was getting more intense, and I felt like I was drowning.

I couldn't breathe.

I couldn't breathe.

I couldn't breathe.

I felt something on my face. Was I sweating from nervousness? Or was I crying? I'd be judged for either one, as if that was going to help. I stared down at my desk, hoping it would just...go away.

I realized my eyes were stinging. So I was crying.

All of a sudden Mr. Sargent was leaning over me, and saying something, but I couldn't process it, I didn't know what he was saying, and fucking stop looking at me, entire class, and then someone grabbed my arm, and I just about jumped out of my skin. I was on my feet the next moment, being dragged out of the classroom, not really processing anything yet still scared out of my mind because goddamn it I have no fucking clue what's going on and I have no control over it and someone is touching me and I don't know who it is and who the fuck is whispering and why is it so hot?

I was probably sobbing and making really ugly noises and just generally being really unpleasant. Vaguely, I knew someone was with me-I could feel them pulling me along behind them-and I hoped it wasn't someone I wanted to make a good impression on.

The person pulling me stopped abruptly, and I almost fell over. I would've, in fact, if there hadn't been a conveniently placed wall behind me. What was the point of stopping, anyway? It's not like it was going to help, I'd still be a wreck.

It was a moment before I noticed whoever was with me was actually trying to communicate with me. They weren't talking loudly, which was a good thing. If they were, I'd just cry harder and make myself look even less attractive to them. "Alex, I'm stopping to let you get your bearings. Alex. Alex. Alex. Can you hear me?"

Fuck.

It was Jack.

Oh my god.