Shakespearean Tragedy | ✔️

E l e v e n

S h a k e s p e a r e a n
T r a g e d y

     MATH WAS A buzzkill to my somewhat good morning, especially on a Monday.

I was on my way up the southeast stairs to speak to my next period teacher and tell him why I wouldn't be in his class when I heard the door open. When he came in sight at the top of the stairs, I was at the top of the second flight. So I turned around and went down the few steps quickly.

I rushed down each step, almost frantically as if a serial killer was chasing me. I felt the anxiety rush up through my fingertips as I stumbled down. I reached the bottom and turned the corner to head to the doors. He must've seen me because I heard his quick steps and leaps down steps.

I flew open each door in the hallways—which was only about two or three, both of them being extremely close to one another— as I tried to reach the northeast exit now, that was positioned right beside the parking lot. I'd hide between the cars and wait for my mom, but a hand latched onto my wrist and refused to let go. I felt shocks erupt inside wrist, and I felt it all the way in my stomach.

"Let me go, please. I've got somewhere to go."

He tugged me towards him softly, and I looked at him. "Where?"

"The doctors. My moms picking me up."

He looked outside, then back at me where he grimaced. "Your moms car isn't out there. We've got time." He let go and held the doors open for me, trusting that I wasn't going to run. Which I wasn't. "Let's talk out here so it's easier."

I didn't like being this close to him and not being able to touch him still or being able to kiss him like I used to when we were young. He told me he always liked those kisses.

"So, you still hate me?" He questioned me simply.

I didn't quite know the answer to that yet. But I said, "no."

He smiled widely, happiness evident everywhere upon him. "I told you it would've changed everything."

We sat on a bench by the back, still a little off to the side. It took a glance from him across the bench, staring at me, to trigger flashbacks to this exact bench two years ago. "You picked this bench on purpose, didn't you Dawson?"

"Truth is, I wanted to reminisce with you." He smiled. "I miss it."

I held my head in my hands, "why are you doing this? It ended two years ago."

He shrugged nonchalantly. "I could ask you the same thing."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that I know you aren't over what happened, just like I know I'm not."

My phone began ringing loudly, so I picked up.

My mom was close by. I excused myself from the phone call, and looked at Dawson, who was slightly frowning. "I have to go."

"Your moms here?"

I nodded, "well, she's about to be. But we're late so she wants me to start walking and she'll pick me up when she finds me along the way."

He smiled, somewhat wistfully, "okay."

I began walking, glad my mom helped me escape that, but I stopped when I heard him speak.

"Be safe, June."

I looked back and he was getting up from the bench, with his head down, and then he walked inside the school.