climb the stairs and pause on the landing. J.D. hesitates below, studying his schedule.
Then he glances at me, smiles, and heads up the stairs in my direction.
I race to the second floor, my feet pounding in sync with my heartbeat. What is wrong with me? Am I afraid he’s going to hurt me again? No, there’s nothing more he can do to me. He’s already stripped me of a functioning brain. My dignity.
My life.
Still, I’m nauseated by thought of being near him. It reminds me of what I was before and how broken I am now.
I rush into the second floor hallway and look both ways. Panic floods my chest. I’m lost in my own school.
I head left, walk faster, and sense he’s behind me. Now he’s stalking me? Why, to taunt me some more like yesterday when he said I was partially responsible for my accident? I wanted to wrap my hands around his throat and squeeze until…
I catch myself. I can’t afford to lose it and make a scene at school, not if I want to slide back into my “old normal” life. I’ve worked so hard to convince everyone I’m okay.
But when I see J.D. Pratt, resentment and rage whips through my chest and my self-control quickly unravels. I reach for my moonstone choker in the hopes that touching the milky white stone will help me stay grounded.
I spot Room 202 and relief courses through me. I head into class and kids greet me as I walk between the rows of desks. They say the usual stuff like how glad they are that I’m okay and how great I look. Yeah, right. One guy asks what it’s like being in a coma. His girlfriend pokes him and he apologizes.
I offer my rehearsed smile, but don’t keep eye contact with any one kid for too long. Can’t risk being pulled into a HULU. Talk about unnatural disaster.
I sit in the back, take a deep breath and keep the winning smile on my face as if to say: “It’s me! I’m back!”
As I sit there listening to the pre-class chatter, my panic subsides. I’m safe.
Then the door swings open and J.D. Pratt struts in. There’s only one empty desk left in class and it’s next to me. My heart pounds in my chest. What now? I open my notebook and pretend I’m absorbed in my schedule. Not exactly a lie since I might forget it five minutes from now.
J.D. heads down my row and flops down next to me. Anger floods my cheeks. I can’t stand being anywhere near him. I won’t make it through the next five minutes much less an entire class period.
I jump up and march to the teacher’s desk. “Mr. Rimmer?”
“Yes, Catherine?”
“Could you…”
What? Make J.D. Pratt disappear? Rewind my life?
“What’s wrong, Catherine?” he asks with a concerned frown.
I happen to know he has three daughters. I’ll make that work for me.
“J.D. Pratt. I’d rather not be sitting near him.” I intentionally tear up. Didn’t know I could do that on cue.
“He should probably sit up front, anyway,” Mr. Rimmer says.
I glance at Rimmer, who offers a smile, more of pity than anything else. Whatever. If that’s what it takes to get rid of Pratt, I’ll take it.
“Mr. Pratt, switch seats with Mr. Hoffman please,” he says.
“Thanks.” I head back to my seat.
J.D. stares at me as I walk down the aisle. He doesn’t move. I sit down and study my silver ring, a Celtic knot design. I need to focus on something so I can block out the creep sitting next to me.
Out of the corner of my eye I see J.D. turn to face me.
My heart jumps into my throat. Is he going to try talking to me again?
He’s a cruel, evil boy , Taylor said yesterday after she confronted him and was verbally thrashed.
“Move, Pratt.” Greg Hoffman is standing beside my desk effectively blocking my view.
At least I think he is. I make the mistake of glancing to my right. J.D. levels me with those angry turquoise eyes. If I keep looking at them I’m most definitely going to regret it.
“Move, jerk.” I turn away in time to avoid a HULU.
Thank God. A Pratt HULU would no doubt involve setting
Cherif Fortin, Lynn Sanders
Janet Berliner, George Guthridge