Say Hello to the Stars

Chapter Thirteen

My pace quickens as I make my way to the lockers. Kids murmur and point subtle fingers my way as silent rumors are exchanged.

Johnathan bellows my name halfway across campus, causing some serious glances and glares. Well, more than there was before. Can't you be quiet for once?
My body does the best it possibly can to squeeze into the locker and disappear. Just as I grab the door to swing it in, he grabs my hand and pulls me into an embrace. My feet trip over the part where the locker and the floor meet, causing me to crash into him. "Where have you been? I called you last night, but you didn't answer. So, I stopped by but the house was vacant; I've been worried sick. I thought something happened to you." He says.

"I've been busy. So much has happened."

"Just promise that you won't do that to me again. Alright?"

"Alright." I murmur. Everyone's surrounding stares bore into me. I feel as if I'm under a microscope, being tested on and examined, inch by inch.

Johnathan sighs as he buries his face into my shoulder. "I thought I'd lost you; I thought you were gone."

My chest pangs with guilt. Between his mom, school, sports and work, he has plenty on his shoulders. He may seem like the perfect guy on the outside, but he's as fragile as glass on the inside; one small slip and he could shatter.

We hug for what seems like forever. After we let go of each-other the hallways are a ghost town. The sounds of our shoes echo off the walls as we make our way to Mr. Fart's classroom.

Johnathan stops me in front of the door. "I'll do the talking, okay?"

A wave of relief rushes over me. I nod my head slightly as he pushes through the doors. The class's attention steers towards us.

Johnathan clears his throat. "Please excuse our intrusion; we got caught up in a presentation."

Mr. Fark (or Fart) stares at us blankly. "Save it and just sit down."

Once seated, he grins and mouths, "I knew it would go well." The corners of my mouth tug into a small smile as I throw on my invisibility cloak in the back of the classroom. Every now and then, someone allows their eyes to linger on me. A small flare of curiosity ignites within me; what are they saying about me?

Mr. Fark continues on with his lessons about poetry and structure, and how it's oh-so important. My mind takes comfort in all the junk he has piled around. It's soothing, being in a place you know well. If only I could be in Annabel's Hill; that's what will help me. Help me remember what I am; invisible. The walls around me build up again, blockading anyone who wants to come in.

It's easier to get distracted in school than it is to get involved. The only thing in class I catch is our homework. Mr. Fart wants us to write a poem, or two, or three.... yeah, right. Poetry requires emotion, and I'm not willing to let mine out. The bell rings, and I wait for everyone to leave before getting up and exiting the room. As I make my way to the next class, I notice Baxter staring at me from the other end of the hallway. I hunch my shoulders and keep my head low as I push through the crowd. The redness in my cheeks don't help my case at all.

I sneak a glance over me back; yep, he's still there. My lungs start to hurt and my ears flare from the voices that surround me. The oxygen levels in the room feel as if they've dropped to a low as I gasp for air. Baxter begins to make his way towards me. My pace quickens as I try my best to escape. He won't hurt me or my family ever again.

My shoes hit the tiles harder as I transition into a jog. I keep my pace slow enough so it won't be noticeable to any passing teachers. A small voice in my head rings out: "Why are you running? This boy saved your life and brought your brother back, and you're just going to forget that?"

"No, of course not. But there's a slight chance he's still dangerous."

"He wasn't dangerous. In fact, he was decent. Baxter is a good guy; he just needs help in realizing it. The real question is: Are you up for the challenge?"

I close in on my destination: Study Hall. Once I'm through the doors the air clears up, and I'm grateful for the silence the room holds.

I take my seat in the back of the room, and I pull out a thick paperback. I read to my hearts content, only getting interrupted by the lunch bells. Johnathan's words swim around in my head: Just a few more hours and you're home-free.

Just a few more hours.
Just a few more hours.