Please Stay

Reunited. Part Two

I haven’t really seen Sam since the day of the classroom. I’ve tried to find him, but always came up blank and the students weren’t any help either. Ashley had tried, but came up with the same result; nothing. Either people didn’t care to part with information, or they genuinely didn’t know. I was starting to give up hope of ever seeing him again. I should have given my number or taken his when I had the chance, even arranged to meet up another time.

With a depressed sigh, I walked away from my locker when a petite brunette smacked into me and on closer inspection, I noticed it was the girl from before who told me about Sam.

“You have to come, I think they done something to Sam” she begged, already pulling at my arm.

“I heard the brother’s laughing about something when they left the gym lockers and I can’t go in there to find out. No one is saying anything either” she continued as we raced through the crowded corridors, dodging bodies.

Once in the guy’s lockers I looked around and caught sight of a few remaining, snickering guys before my eyes landed on Sam who was sat on the bench, still in a navy blue towel with a depressed look. With a deep sigh he stood up giving me a full view of his naked skin and I was shocked to see fresh and faded bruising around his upper body and few on his legs.

“Who gave you those bruises” I demanded from behind him, making him jump and turn to face me

“It doesn’t matter” he answered shaking his head, before turning his back to me again and picking up a pile of clothes. I wanted to reach out and touch the bruises, but my hand stopped mid way; I couldn’t invade his space like that.

“Are you alright Sammy, what did they do” my voice gentler

“Why do you care” he sighed again, not looking at me, but the tiled floor.

“Because you are my friend” I took a tentative step forward and placed my hand onto his shoulder, his skin was warm and soft and I felt him judder under my touch.

“You say that, but I don’t know you” his head coming back to look at me with sadness in his eyes.

“Your hair used to be nearly white” I said touching his short brown hair, it was silky-smooth “and your eyes used to sparkle”

He didn’t answer, just turned back and looked at the clothes with a depressed sigh.

“What the hell are those” I tried to keep my voice soft as I grabbed the garment he was holding; a pink females dress “I know these aren’t your clothes. Where are they” and turned him around fully to face me, keeping my hands loose on his upper arms.

He held his head down and murmured ‘I don’t know’, but I can take a guess who does know. I’ll seek them out later and make them pay for this. I am supposed to keep my nose clean, but I know how to use words effectively and make it seem harder than any punch. Being who I am and brought up in the environment I had, does come with benefits.