Pause (Published)

Chapter 15: Rise of the Rebellion

Melinda lets out a screech of agony as Max stifles his laughter behind his fist before mouthing to me that I'm on my own. He's quick to abandon me in my time of need like the coward he is.

At least, her face has not been stapled - that's looking at the bright side to things.

Melinda, still groaning in pain, steps inside the class to find the one responsible - me, obviously. Lies, it's Max.

I quickly lean against the wall of the classroom, pretending to be looking at something on the board, casually whistling a tune as if innocent. 

I can be low-key when I need to be.

Melinda buys none of it. "Give it up, Lawson! You're the only one in the classroom," she hisses at me, the pain speaking. "I am so reporting you to the principal. You can sit in detention again whilst I will be shopping," she tells me as she slams the stapler back onto the desk beside me.

Snitches get stitches! Although, I'm sure that she'll be needing stitches in any case.

"I should hope so with the skimpy outfit you're wearing," I murmur as I glance at her, noticing the mini, mini, mini skirt and tube top. So much for the school's dress code...modesty doesn't exist in high schools, not anymore. 

"Excuse me?" she huffs in aggravation and crosses her arms over her chest, her forehead bruised badly.

The protruding mark taking the shape of a stapler across her forehead makes it difficult for me to take her seriously. "Anyways, I think we're done here," I say, changing the subject as I remove myself off of the wall and head out the exit of the classroom in the hopes of escaping.

"Watch your back, Lawson, and while you're at it, pull down your sleeve," she whispers in malice as she motions to my long sleeve shirt that has traveled up ever so slightly, making some of my scars visible to her.

My eyes widen as I scramble to pull my sleeve back down. When I glance up again, she's gone.

It's not my fault her forehead is so big - I could watch a movie on that screen. She must be out of her mind if she thinks I am sitting another detention just because she got in the way of my stapler.

*~*~*~**~*~*~*

"You threw her with a stapler?" Bells asks, astonished, the rumors already soaring across the school.

Yes, because I am that strong! 

People are stupid. I'm powerful, but I'm not superman.

I bang my head repeatedly against the table. I've been over this with at least six different people now. "I wouldn't say that I threw her with the stapler, more like gently chucked the stapler in her direction, but, in my defense, it barely touched her, and she has a really humongous forehead. I mean seriously, how her mother gave birth to-"

"Aqueela," Bells gives me a reprimanding glare, implying that I should not dare finish my next sentence. "How can you say it barely touched her when she has a gigantic bruise across her forehead? I am surprised she didn't slap you right there and then."

I crack my knuckles with a grin. "She knows she'll get another blue eye if she ever challenges me again. But now she's going to play the dirty card. I can handle her in brawn, but brains...yeah...that's where you..." I trail off and point at Bells, "my friend, come in."

"Oh no. Oh hell no! No. No. No. I refuse to be part of your ploys. How can I defend you when my other friend is walking with a blue mark on her face because of your surpassingly, deadly arm?" Bells asks incredulously.