The Class Agreement

54

I locked my arms around Jason's waist as he tried to wrestle with me. My side smacked against a countertop as we struggled. His body heavy, smelly, and sweaty.

Using all of my strength, I lifted him, my body burning with a hot flame, and slammed him straight down to Athena's kitchen floor. I swear the entire house vibrated when he connected with the ground perfectly.

He groaned loudly as I got off of him, heaving for air.

I stood over him, my fists shaking from wanting to punch into him some more.

His face was red. Some blood dripped from his nose as he blinked, staring up at the ceiling.

Athena quickly pushed me back a few inches, grabbing a hold of my face. I ripped my eyes away from his body. It took me a few seconds to really focus on Athena.

I was angry all over again when I studied the finger markings on her neck. They were bruising over purple now. Her tears still streaming down her cheeks. She was visibly shaking.

I cupped her face, being as gentle as possible, "Are you okay?"

She nodded her head, swallowing thickly, "If you didn't show up I — I don't know if—"

I pulled her into a tight hug, cutting off her words. She clutched my sides, sobbing against me. My adrenaline was still pumping. My eyes were fixated on Jason, who was slowly sitting up and leaning against the bottom cabinet.

I couldn't understand why.

Why would he do such a thing to the woman he so-called loved with all his heart. This wasn't love. This was abuse. Attempted murder. He tried to kill my girlfriend.

And now I felt like killing him.

[Earlier during the school day]

I got my stitches off, my forearm now marked with a jagged scar that wasn't that big. They made it seem like my forearm was going to look completely destroyed and ugly. Lucikly for me, it doesn't look too bad.

I was on my way to Athena's class, lunch just starting for both of us.

I knocked before entering. Athena was lining desks up back into a straight column. She's wearing grey jeans, a white graphic tee, and sneakers. Her casual school outfits are a treat whenever she gets tired of dressing professionally.

"Oh, I'm sorry, is Ms. Frost in?" I smirked. "I needed to talk to her about my homework."

She placed her hands on her hips, smiling a little, "You're speaking to her."

I shrugged, "Could've fooled me, miss. You look just like one of us."

She laughed and stepped around the column of desks, walking toward me, "So I've been told plenty of times."

"I bet you're flattered," I teased.

She hummed, "If it's coming from you." She eyed my forearm, reaching for it and gently grazing over the new scar, "It's not that bad actually."

I watched her fingers, extending my arm out more, "Right?"

She picked up my arm and placed a soft kiss on the scar, "Let's hope you don't accidentally hurt yourself anymore."

"Let's hope this therapy works," I responded. "So ... um, I know I didn't get around to explaining what was going on over the weekend."

She placed her hands on my hips, "No, but we have time. It's okay. I'm not exactly rushing since I understand the situation now."