Give Me Something To Hold On To

Chapter 3

    "Not in the couple of years that I've known him has someone been able to calm him down like that. Who are you anyway?"

    "Why are you so interested in Lukka, haven't you done enough harm?" He sighs and swallows, his eyes dropping down slightly.

    "He told you already didn't he?"

    "Even before you still gave me an off vibe." He raises his eyebrow.

    "How so?" I walk closer to him, the sound of the clank of my heels ricocheting against the empty hallway. I bend my head back to look into his eyes, and for a split second I feel empathy for him, but of course, it lasts short.

    "Nobody takes my parking spot, nobody. So go to hell and leave me, Lukka and my parking space alone." With that I walk away with my clanking heels, feeling his stare on my back.

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I would suggest actually playing "Wait A Minute!" by Willow for this section. :)

    I tighten my ponytail, running my hands through my soft, straight pony before I put my earbuds in and start my music on shuffle. "Wait a Minute!" by Willow begins to play and I jump in my spot three times before I begin my weekly jog around the school track. After my dad became wealthy, it became a habit for me and my mom to go on weekly walks, but that quickly stopped when things just got too complicated at home.
    I started off good, until the second lap came along... then I started to pant. I haven't jogged in a while so I didn't expect to survive this long, yet here I am, jogging as the boys soccer team practices. I finish the second lap and stop, bending over and panting like crazy. I look up and my eyes fall onto the soccer team. They all basically looked the same; white, tall, blond, and most of them fit. That is why when I spot the tall boy in the crowd with black hair-- and also staring right back at me--my body freezes. I completely forget about my fatigue and pick up my pace to a run around the lap, but only half way since that's where the girls locker room lands. I hear the coach's whistle and I somewhat sigh at the satisfaction that the boy would be playing, leaving him no time to be distracted by me.

    My phone dings and I quickly reach for it clumsily, my hands managing to drop it as my body reacts late and continues jogging. I huff and turn back around, my eyes searching for that gray piece of wonder just before something very hard manages to knock me down to the floor. I open my eyes and everything seems to be a doubled blur, a surge of migraine-like pain awakening on my forehead. I feel a hand snuggle itself under my head and I groggily look for its source. By this point I see blurs of bodies surrounding me, and the coach's distant shrilling yell bouncing off of my shaken brain.

    "Hey, hey. Can you hear me?" I know that voice. My cloudy vision begins to refocus, and the sounds begin to increase along with my pain. As if a switch goes off in my brain, I can see everyone around me, even hear the coach yelling down at someone next to me. My eyes follow the coach's huge eyes and sure enough, I see black haired boy kneeling next to me, wrinkled forehead and all. My body's first reaction is to try to squirm away, but the pain pinches at the nerves of my head and I shoot my hand up with a painful Ahhh.

    "Well shit, Evans, you've done it!"

    "I'll take care of it, coach."

    "You'll take care of it my ass. You've done enough, Evans."

    "I've said I got it!" He turns his neck up towards the coach, firm tone and eyes of bullets as support for his argument. He turns his attention back to me and locks eyes with me.