Jealousy Kills | SkepHalo |

Chapter 9

My school specially designed our schedules around P.E. Our teacher was so intense that many kids ended up puking when they went to P.E straight after lunch, I don't know why the school board didn't just fire him. There is never P.E after lunch, and we were some of the 'lucky' ones who had P.E before lunch. Did I mention that the whole school hates P.E? For the athletic kids it was bearable, but no one really enjoyed it. Back in middle school I loved to run around, but this just ruins the whole experience for me. I sighed, wearing my winter uniform. We all had to change out of our clothes and wear a uniform while doing anything athletic. It was long-sleeved, but I definitely preferred to be in my own clothes and warm hoodie. I shivered and exited the stall I was changing in, going to my locker and stuffing in my clothes for later. This sucked. Again, was this legal? Oh well, we'll be a little warmer when we start running. hopefully. 

Once I exited the boy's locker room, I saw Darryl chatting with the teacher. What about? I'm not sure, I was too far away and it's really none of my business. They both had certain.. expressions on their faces. It looked something along the lines of pained and disappointed, and the conversation ended with Darryl walking away. He was walking straight for me, but it was like he was really anxious about something. I threw him a confused look as we started to talk to each other. "What was that about?" I asked, going to shove my hands into my hoodie pocket before I remembered that I wasn't wearing my hoodie. Stupid.

"Nothing really. I was just asking him something." It looked like Darryl had more to tell me, but refrained from it. I wonder why? Maybe he felt like I was too mean and I'd be annoyed with him or something. That's pretty much been my whole mood for the last 3 days anyway. I should start being more nice to him. Darryl's pretty cute-- in a sense like a toddler is cute-- his quirks are memed at this point, and he's a decent guy. He's not bad at all. I guess I have to work on being nicer, or something. The feeling of dread was poking at my heart again, but I'd have to deal with it. The day was halfway over at this point.

"Get to running!" Our P.E teacher shouted, and Vincent had come up behind me. We usually jogged together until Mr-bitch here told us to pick up the pace, and the whole class was out of breath and aching by the end of it. Tomorrow, everyone would be complaining about sore legs. 

So we jogged. We jogged a couple laps out of 20. Darryl had been falling behind most of the time, and we waited up for him to catch his breath more often than not. That meant we got yelled at more, but sticking by your friends was worth being yelled at. Yeah, friends. We're allowed to refer to each other as one, right? I hate to admit it, but his deep green eyes were growing on me now. Every time I looked into them, it felt like I read a thousand stories. It was odd, but comforting. It made me question a lot about life, because I've read enough books to know that being obsessed with someone's eyes usually meant you were either a psychopath, or in love. I wasn't in love with Darryl. He was a dork, but I could never be gay about it. All of my friends are dorks. Sure, the way he nervously runs his hands through his hair is oddly adorable, and I loved watching him write because his handwriting was pretty. It doesn't mean I like him in a specific way. Love is tricky, you can love your friends and not want to kiss them or anything. That's called platonic love. And it's all I felt. right? 

I was breathing hard now. It was hard for me to keep running around, and my throat kept getting scratched with each breath. I wasn't focused on my feelings as much as I was focused on my physical symptoms. Cold sweat, deep breathing, watering eyes. I hated P.E because sometimes I'd cry. The teacher and I didn't have a good relationship because I wasn't used to running 5 miles every Thursday. Dumb bitch. Language, I'm sorry. I curse out a lot of teachers, only internally. I have this.. internal hate for humanity and the world. It confuses me as to why-- many people told me that I need to brighten up, but I didn't care for their words. If they can't see why I feel like this, then I don't care to see why they feel like I shouldn't feel like hating humanity. 

I slowed down to stop, Vincent doing the same as soon as he noticed I was stopping. Darryl had been behind us for a while now, and I was starting to worry if his legs were sprained or something. It was almost like he had a look of pain on his face, maybe it was something else. Maybe it had to do with what he was talking to our teacher about before class started. Who cares what it was? He didn't look so good, and that was a fact. Vincent and I exchanged looks, and it seemed like we were thinking the same thing. I'll ask him about it in a second.... Or not. I heard a scream from Darryl's direction-- No, it wasn't him. It was one of the girls screaming, obviously. At first I thought it was just a stupid spider that they were about to continue shrieking about, but what caught my attention was the person I was thinking about near-constantly's name being spoken. And sure enough, I looked forward and gasped. It was one of the weirdest, most cringe moments of my life to react like this- but the new kid was collapsed on the pavement now. My guess it that it just happened, and I thought he tripped at first- except he didn't get up, so now I'm pretty sure he's dead. Okay, that's dramatic, but tell me why I was at his side in a matter of seconds? One of the girls shouted, "Someone get the teacher!" I felt my anxiety heighten as I lightly nudged him with my hand. No, he wasn't responding. The cold was starting to get to me now, but the adrenaline blocked out a lot of feeling. I saw one of the guys ran over and pointed to Darryl, and he was over in a matter of seconds with an 'I fucked up' look printed on his face. What did he do?  I felt angered by this, I guess what they were discussing earlier was important. I almost wanted to scream, to talk back at the teacher but refrained. My friend needed us to help him, not get into fights. 

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Word count: 1178 words