╔══《"You kept me like a secret,》══╗
but I kept you like an oath."
Corbin's hands were still shaking by the time he entered first period chemistry. His heart hadn't stopped pounding, but he was forced to attend school nonetheless. Now, in the uncomfortable desk chair, his focus was anywhere but the classroom. Ahead of him, his middle aged, balding teacher, droned on about moles and elements.
The tired teenager yawned for the tenth time in the past minute, knowing that if he dared rest his head on his desk for even a second, he would be out cold. In order to keep himself awake, Corbin physically held his eyelids open, only letting them close occasionally to blink.
It didn't help that his teacher had such a monotone and boring voice, and teaching style. All the lights were off, the only glow coming from the filtered windows. This provided the perfect amount of dimness for prime napping.
Glancing around, Corbin noted all the heads down. Looking over at the guy sitting next to him, Corbin held back a laugh. The boy with shaggy dirty blonde hair had his mouth open, drool dripping down his chin. He was sitting upright, having fallen asleep in that position. His breath was heavy in his throat, on the borderline of snoring.
Does this teacher not know that nobody's listening? Or does he just not care... Corbin pondered, staring at the back of his shiny head. In his hand was a piece of white chalk, the blackboard in the front covered in scribbles and scratches that sort of resembled English if you squinted enough.
The chalk wasn't dark enough for Corbin to see from the back of the classroom, but the illegible handwriting made it so even someone in the front row would be troubled when trying to understand. Can those chicken scratches even be considered letters?
It was no surprise the entire class was failing. Corbin was still stuck and confused on the first lesson: significant figures; and it didn't help that his teacher skipped the lesson on writing molecular formulas. This left the entire class confused and lost, permanently.
This wasn't even an honors class, but the tests were hard enough for it to be considered one.
The hands on the large analog clock moved at snail pace. The more Corbin stared at them, the slower they seemed to tick. Sighing, he gave in to temptation, putting his head down on his desk.
His arms were folded like a pretzel, and his hood fell to cover his face, blocking off any light from the classroom. With his head on his arms, the sound from the room was muffled, and his eyes closed instantly.
Sighing, Corbin found peace in his mind. The loud ringing in his ears had vanished, as did his headache. This...this is peace. He smiled, content to lay here all day. However, when he glanced up at the clock one last time, he found that only thirty seconds had passed. A watched pot never boils, he figured, closing his eyes once more.
All of a sudden, a loud bang startled him up. His teacher had stormed over, and slammed a stack of papers on a desk, the sound reverberating throughout the empty classroom. The sound was especially loud for Corbin, resonating right next to his ear, because the teacher had chosen the guy next to him to wake up.
Corbin watched as the blonde comically jolted upright, looking around panicked. Laughing to himself, Corbin covered his mouth with his left hand, propping his elbow up on his desk.
"No sleeping in class, young man!" the teacher--who's name was so irrelevant Corbin couldn't bother remembering--yelled. His voice boomed, the classroom falling silent. Dumbfounded, the confused boy glanced around frantically.
It was obvious that almost the entire class had had their heads down, most being asleep. Why was he targeting this kid, jeez. That's a little harsh. Corbin scoffed, looking down at his desk. The worksheet in front of him remained empty, having not done any of the classwork assigned today.
"Sorry, sir," the weak voice spoke, trembling. With a nod, the teacher turned around, and stumbled slowly back to the front of the room. Looking to his right, Corbin stared at the petrified teenager. After a short second, he met his gaze.
His hair was messy, obvious that he hadn't taken the time to brush his bead-head out that morning. The color was caramel, the color of amber. The clouds overshadowing the sun decided at that moment to part. The golden light illuminated his face.
His skin was fair, and beauty marks speckled his skin. One below his left eye, one by his lip, one on his right eyelid, one on his chin. Corbin counted off. 4.
He smiled, out of instinct. The sunlight had shone on him in a way that reflected the green from his eyes. His hair almost glowed in the light. It wasn't until the mysterious boy smiled back, that Corbin realized he had been staring.
Immediately embarrassed, Corbin pulled his hood further over his head, hoping his imperfections weren't visible to the perfect-looking boy next to him. Looking down shyly, Corbin observed the teenager's rosy cheeks, intrigued.
All of a sudden, the loud ringing of the bell indicated the end of the period. Why does the bell only ring when I don't want it to? Corbin mentally groaned, hauling himself off the hard seat. He had already been in school for a month, but today was the first day he bothered to look around the class.
Smiling, he knew that he discovered something interesting, someone intriguing. Corbin couldn't resist the feeling of curiosity and wonder--emotions he hadn't felt in a while. So, while he was slammed around in the crowded hallway, he looked out for the golden mop of hair.
Finally thankful for his height, Corbin stood up straight, peering over the heads of the other students packed in the thin corridors. His eyes scanned the crowd, worried that he had already turned down a separate hallway, and therefore out of sight.
Damn! He cursed, about to give up when he noticed the familiar head of hair. He's a lot shorter than I expected. Corbin laughed, realizing how much he had to look down just to see the top of his head. After spotting him, Corbin slouched back down to average height, blending in with the clamoring crowd.
He followed a couple people behind the unnamed student, watching where he went. Eventually, the hallway split, and Corbin had to watch the kid go left while he went right. Sighing, Corbin slapped his cheeks lightly.
Do you see yourself? You're a stalker! He's gonna think you're a fucking weirdo... You are, but still! He sighed, stepping into another plain classroom as the bell rang over the loudspeakers, signaling the start of class.
This classroom resembled his previous one, the same boring white walls and rows of desks. The emptiness reminded Corbin of his house, causing him to shiver as he walked to his seat in the back. His second period was history, which was significantly more exciting than chemistry. Not only did he enjoy history more, but his teacher was much more likable.
On cue, a sparky and lanky middle aged man strutted into the open door. On his face, a fake mustache was taped above his lip. His polo and dress pants clashed with the accessory. Standing by his lectern, he struck a pose, crossing his arms and smirking. The class erupted into laughter and claps, Corbin involuntarily smiling along too.
"Today's topic... is World War 2," he announced, standing up straight and ripping his mustache off and throwing it down aggressively. The class booed. "What? You guys aren't a fan of World War 2?" he questioned, walking to his desk.
"I'm Jewish Mr. Garrison!" a popular guy from the back row yelled back, causing the whole class to break out into laughter again. His curly black hair shook as he laughed too.
"Well I suppose that's a fair excuse," Mr. Garrison agreed, turning on the projector. Immediately, a homemade slideshow popped up. "So who wants to play a history game?" The class cheered once more, and Corbin found that his shoulders felt less tense.
...
By the time Corbin had walked into the cafeteria after his fifth period, his stomach had been growling for two periods straight already. His lack of breakfast, seeing as he bolted out the door as quickly as possible, had caught up to him fast. In his hunger-craved mind, even the cafeteria food looked appetizing.
Buying only the bare necessities--knowing his school pay account was low--Corbin walked to the far corner, out of sight from the bustle of students. His mouth drooled as he finally set the tray down on the table. He sat alone, but he didn't mind. Instead, he took the opportunity to dig into his food.
The cold pizza, and mushy grapes could have been gourmet food to Corbin. Bite after bite, his hunger was cured slowly. By the time he had downed the pizza, the grapes, and had moved on to his cookie, he hadn't looked up from the blue-gray trey once.
Pausing for a breath, Corbin reached for a water bottle out of his bag, knowing the cartoon of chocolate milk on his plate had a high chance of being spoiled.
Going to a lowly public school in the middle of nowhere meant school lunch wasn't prioritized. Corbin wished American lunches were as good as lunch in France. There, they got a full course meal, and had an hour to eat it all. Corbin looked down at the pathetic food his school called 'lunch'.
His stomach churned, unsure if because he had devoured a lot of food in a short time period, or if the thought of school lunch alone made him want to vomit. Thinking about the mold and chemicals, Corbin stood up fast. Rushing to the nearest door, he didn't look back before running out of the cafeteria.
Finding himself in the lobby near the auditorium and the gym, Corbin spotted the boys bathroom sign in the distance. Sprinting over, he glanced at the big gym doors for a quick second, immediately, skirting to a stop.
Through the thick wooden doors, Corbin's eyes had instantly found the familiar face, with fair skin and green eyes. The ruffle of his blonde hair swayed as he jumped, celebrating something with a girl of similar height.
All of a sudden, the basketball in his hands tumbled out, rolling away from him. Chasing after it, the short boy began running toward the door. Kneeling down to pick it up, he stood up tall and gripped the ball.
On his ascent, he happened to look out the small window in the door, noticing Corbin standing still in the middle of the empty hallway.
The eye contact alone was enough for Corbin's mind to remind him of why he was rushing to the bathroom in the first place. The bile in his stomach rose quickly, and suddenly. By the time the blonde was about to smile at Corbin, he had already bolted off, a hand covering his mouth.
The bathroom seemed so far away, the door feeling so heavy as Corbin shoved his entire body weight against it. The stalls seemed so small, as Corbin knelt on his knees in front of the clean toilet.
With his face so close to the water, Corbin got a whiff of bleach. The smell alone made him gag for a final time, his stomach finally emptying his school lunch into the basin. After a second of heaving, Corbin began to cough loudly.
His throat felt itchy, and tender, grasping at it with his prying fingers. The area was sore, each press against his neck sending a throb of pain to his head. By now, Corbin was light headed, struggling to keep his head up straight.
The urge to collapse against the wall and sleep was sudden. He couldn't resist, his limbs completely giving out. His arms felt weak, his legs felt limp. The usual tremor in his hands was absent, the phalanges being too weak to shake.
Accepting that he would most likely have to miss his next period, because these 'weak spells' always lasted a while, Corbin sighed in pain.
His mind raced, a jumble of thoughts. Jolted up, Corbin was alerted by knocks on the stall. In his hurry to a toilet, he hadn't locked the stall door, the hinges slowly opening on their own.
Standing in the doorway was the familiar face of Mr. Garrison. The mustache from this morning was taped back on his face, most likely in preparation of an upcoming class period. Looking at Corbin with a look of sympathy, Mr. Garrison didn't say much to him. Simply, he reached his foot, avoiding Corbin's body, and flushed the toilet.
The sound of the water being pulled down the drain was muddy to Corbin. Even as Mr. Garrison began to speak, Corbin had to concentrate to hear coherent words.
"How about I walk you to the nurse, Corbin. How does that sound?" Mr. Garrison spoke in a comforting voice, not aggressive whatsoever.
Finding it hard to resist the empathetic tone, Corbin nodded slowly, moving his hands to hoist himself off the dirty floor. His elbows shook, but a comforting hand gripped his shoulder, pulling him up with ease.
Thankful for the help, Corbin nodded once, looking at his feet in embarrassment. His legs were flimsy, but with the support of his teacher, he slowly hobbled out of the stall. The hallway was void of people, lunch not having ended yet. Corbin had sat on the floor for no more than 5 minutes, despite it feeling like an eternity.
Already out of breath from the short walk, Corbin paused outside the bathroom door. Being patient, Mr. Garrison waited for him to regain strength before continuing to shuffle through the hallway. Corbin hadn't noticed, but Mr. Garrison had grabbed his bag off the bathroom floor, the blue polyester sack hanging of his left shoulder, his right arm supporting Corbin's weight.
The squeaking of shoes from the gym indicated the class was still ongoing. In his daze, Corbin glanced back at the window as they passed the door. His vision was too blurry to make out faces, peoples bodies looking like blurbs of color to his un-focusing eyes.
His weak body was pulled forward, his gaze falling from the door as he trekked further and further away. His mind hadn't left, his brain still searching for the flash of amber, his ears harkening for the soft giggle.
Even as the door to the nurses office approached, and the bell rang over the loudspeakers--indicating the end of lunch--Corbin's mind continued to search. He couldn't let the interaction go, despite knowing it was a one second glance that meant nothing.
It meant nothing. Nothing...
"What can I help you with?" a bubbly voice said cheerfully. Corbin's ears perked at the sound, looking up from the floor.
"Hello Mrs. Flores! Sorry to bother you but Corbin here has a stomach ache," Mr. Garrison spoke for Corbin. Not protesting, Corbin sat back and let the teachers do the talking.
"Oh no dear! Did you eat something bad, or are you just not feeling well?" she asked, walking over to inspect the sick teenager. She reached her hand out, aiming for his forehead. Instantly, Corbin backed away, crinkling his face with disgust.
Shrugging at her question, he curled up in on himself. "I see," she cooed, stepping back. "How about you go lay down on a bed, over there," she turned her body toward a row of twin sized beds. The floor looked more comfortable, but Corbin knew he had no choice. It's either this, or going to class.
"How about you call a parent on my phone, and you can come stay here until they pick you up," she nodded. Corbin didn't answer, mustering up enough strength to totter his way out of his teacher's support, and reach the nearest bed. Once sitting on it, his suspicions were confirmed as the rock hard mattress was as comfortable as sitting on concrete.
He cringed in pain, his body stiff and sore. "Get some rest, kid," Mr. Garrison spoke, smiling before turning around and leaving. For the split second that the door was opened just a crack, the noise of the busy hallway flooded into the room.
The chatter, and the bustle and hustle of busy high school life, erupted in Corbin's ears. His mind a supernova exploding into a thousand stars. Before he could sit up and look over, the door was closed again, and his mind was encased in deafening silence.
Too quiet. The room was too quiet. Forced to listen to his own thoughts, Corbin gripped his head. Searing pain consumed his entire temple, the pressure building up to such an extreme measure he found even his postulations had paused.
In the silence, his body relaxed for a final time. He knew no one would come get him, so he hadn't bothered calling. Calling his mother would only lead to more trouble.
Even the uncomfortable bed didn't stop his body from slipping from reality. His eyelids closed, and he finally flipped past purgatory and into slumber. Dreams never came to him, his mind left free floating, gliding through the valley of sleep...
Question of the chapter: What's your favorite school subject?
╚══《Word Count- 2,916》══╝
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