Fragile Bones

Chapter Twelve

I flew into my seat and waited expectedly, staring at the door for his familiar face. Unfortunately, it was still about five minutes before the bell, meaning that he probably wouldn't show up soon and I was in this classroom alone with Mr. Henderson. I mentally face-palmed myself for putting myself in this position.

"Madeline, it's nice to see you here so early," my teacher drawled out, looking at me lazily from across the room since I sat pretty far back. I nodded at him and busied myself with pretending to look through my backpack. When I didn't hear anything for awhile I peeked back up and jumped when I saw Mr. Henderson standing right next to my desk. "You look a little ill, maybe you should go see the nurse. I hear there's something going around, and you could have a fever," he continued, reaching his hand up like he was about to feel my forehead. I leaned backwards away from his touch so far that I was practically in the chair of the desk next to mine. He had never made me uncomfortable before, but I definitely didn't want his hands on me, especially because of that stupid rumor. He frowned and backed up, holding his hands up as if to say he's innocent. "Just trying to help," he finished, walking back up the aisle to his desk.

Creepiness factor: over five million percent.

The bell rang and students started rushing in while I slid back into my normal seat. Asher soon appeared and glanced at me before narrowing his eyes and sliding into the seat without sparing me another look. My teacher started with his lecture while I stared at Asher, silently hoping he would look back at me so I could tell him that stupid rumor isn't true. However, he refused to meet my gaze and I sighed before a brilliant idea came into my brain. I grabbed a piece of paper from my back pack and began writing on it. I would just write him what I wanted to say if he wouldn't talk to me. I would have used my phone, but I was petrified of Mr. Henderson seeing and making me stay after class again. That middle-aged man just crossed into a weird territory that I don't want to get acquainted with. When I was finished I slid the note over to Asher, trying to be discreet as possible. He ignored it for probably a solid eight minutes before he sighed and opened it up.

Whatever Spencer told you I did, I swear that I didn't do it.

He glanced at me, still looking irritated and scribbled something back and tossed the paper back to me. I opened it cautiously, kind of scared of what he had written.

I've hung out with Spencer a lot more than you, so why should I trust you over him?

I wrote back.

I don't know. Because I'm not like that?

He looked at what I had written for a couple seconds before writing a reply and sliding it back.

I have no idea what you are like. I don't know you, and you don't know me.

I stared at it and felt tears prickling the corner of my eyes which made me feel completely ridiculous. I guess it was just because I was used to being isolated and not having anyone to talk to and I finally did with him, but he turned out to be an asshole just like everyone else. I crumpled up the paper realizing there was really nothing left to say and dropped it into my bag, disposing of the evidence. I stooped down in my seat and pushed my hair forward so it covered my face like I always did. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Asher giving me a weird look, and was thankful it wasn't a scowl. Maybe I got through to him?

"Hey, I'm going to the bathroom!" Asher practically yelled and jumped up from his seat, giving me a look as he walked by the front of the room as if saying to follow him. Now how would I make this look unsuspicious?

"I'm thirsty so I'm going to get a drink!" I said, standing up and bolting out the door without waiting for my teachers reply. Yes Madeline, that wasn't suspicious at all. Asher was standing a little ways down the hallway, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, staring at me. I felt intimidated as I approached him, with his gaze on me like that. He literally towered over my short frame so I kind of had to tilt my head to look him in the face.

I waited for him to speak while it looked like he was waiting for me to speak. Finally he sighed. "So you don't fuck your teacher?" I gaped at him, wondering how he could ask something like that so simply.

I shook my head frantically. "You said it yourself that you can tell I'm a- well, you know," I stuttered, not wanting to say the word virgin.

He smiled a little half smile which immediately made me feel somewhat relieved. "Well there are other things you can do. You could've given him a blowjob or something." I cringed when he said that, and my cheeks heat up just thinking about that. "But I can see from your expression, you probably wouldn't even be able to say the word blowjob."

"Why would you believe that in the first place?" I questioned him, making him look away from me.

"I don't know. I guess I saw him touching you yesterday and it seemed to make sense," he replied.

I frowned, thinking about Mr. Henderson's hand on my shoulder. It seemed so random at the time, but I could see how that could look suspicious. And with how he was about to touch me today it seemed like he was just a little bit creepy. "Well I didn't ask him to," I muttered, looking down.

Asher bent down a little and lifted my face up so I was looking at him. He studied my expression before anger drifted across his features. "Has that fucker been keeping you after class to touch you?" He had already begun storming back to the classroom and I quickly grabbed his arm with both my hands to stop him.

"No it was just yesterday and this morning he was acting a little creepy but he's never done anything inappropriate so can you please stop?" I begged, slightly pulling him back. He glanced at my hands on his arm, and specifically to my wrist where my shirt had ridden up a little. My eyes and his seemed to zero in on the bruise at the same time and I hastily tried to pull my arm back but he was too fast and grabbed it. He stared at the very obvious finger shaped bruises and looked up at me with fury on his face. He looked so angry I unconsciously tried to take a step back but he was holding my arm firmly. Not enough to hurt me, but to make sure I wasn't going anywhere.

"Who did this?" He demanded. "Him?" He asked, throwing a finger back at the classroom. I swallowed nervously and shook my head; the last thing he needed was to get in a fight with a teacher.   "Then who?" He shouted, his voice echoing through the empty hallway.

I shrunk back, not liking this side of Asher. He looked like he could kill someone, and I wondered why seeing bruises on me made him so mad. It made me think about what he had said when he first came to the here, about him having possibly killed someone at his old school. Then, he reminded me of Spencer and that was somehow worse.

"Nobody," I said meekly. He looked at me unamused, since that was clearly a lie. He looked like he was raking his brain to figure out a name to match up to the bruises and I wished he would just let it go. Spencer was my problem to deal with, not his. I guess Asher must have noticed how scared I seemed of him because he released my arm without moving his gaze from my face. I snatched my arm back to my chest and held it, waiting for him to say something, anything.

"I'm coming to your house after school today. Don't forget," was all he said before turning to go back into our english class, leaving me alone in the hallway with a billion questions in my mind.

•••
A/N

I was originally going to make this chapter about their get together after school but then suddenly all of this flowed out??? Yeah, I don't know either. When I write chapters, I seldom plan ahead, I just write whatever comes to my brain. All I really have for organization is an index cards with names and characteristics for each character. I'm planning on making up sketches of what happens in each of the chapters though, so I can work on my pacing. I feel like I'm not really rushing or being too slow this time though which is a frickin miracle.

Soooooo Mr. Henderson is a total creep... sorry about that.

And why do you think Lindsay looked sad earlier?

This is a long authors note so I'll end it here. It's currently 2:53 am, not joking.

Emma x