During first hour, Chucky had been forced to work with the poor, unfortunate soul who he had picked on the first day of school to be his partner. Then again, his partner was the Pretty Princess’s male twin so I didn’t really feel sorry for him in the least. I was simply happy to have Chucky away from me. There’d been no absurd proposals to beat up the person who’d messed up my face in exchange for dates. I was grateful. In fact, he didn’t talk to me at all.
The first half of my day breezed by and before I knew, it I found myself sitting outside for lunch with Tyson sliding a tray full of cafeteria food in front of me. It was as loaded as it had been the day before. Strangely, I could see this turning into an every day ritual because packing my lunch seemed like a chore I had no intention of doing on the daily. I wanted to offer him money but knew after his reaction this morning when I tried to pay for my own breakfast that he wouldn’t enjoy me trying to give him money. I think it went hand in hand with his weird need to try and take care of me. And part of me liked it. If he wanted to pay for my lunch every day what did I care? I didn’t, but I’d never forget to thank him because I didn’t want him to think I would ever take advantage of him in any way.
I mumbled my thanks as I picked up a container of curly fries. Like the day before, they waited for me to pick out what I wanted to eat first, then Abel and Tyson went for what was left over. Addison pulled a paper bag out of his backpack like he had the day before. Guess he wasn’t nearly as lazy as the rest of us. Good for him.
I had a curly fry in my raised hand and half way to my mouth when I heard the door open behind me and female giggles. I visibly cringed as I stuffed the fry in my mouth.
I ignored the Pretty Princess who’s name I still did not know, her minion, her male twin who I was going to start referring to as Ken, Chucky and three other guys as they settled into the table beside ours.
“Hey, Ariel,” Chucky cheerfully called out to me.
I didn’t even bother to look his way.
“I don’t think she likes you,” one of the girls cooed.
“She will,” Chucky said, his voice had lost its cheerful lilt and instead sounded deeper, darker. I did not like his tone one bit.
I looked up from my food and met clear blue eyes. Addison watched me carefully, like he was waiting for me to do something, to react in some way. I had no intention of giving Chucky a reaction. If I could not react when he tripped me on the first day of school this was nothing to me. And to show him how uncomfortable he made me would be to give him power over me and possibly make him feel victorious.
Beside me, Tyson stood in one graceful, fluid movement that surprised me. I looked up at him to find his face dark, his eyes blazing dangerously and back to radiating menace. In that moment, he looked very much like his Uncle Quinton and the Tyson I had met on the first day of school.
I grabbed him by his belt and tried to pull him back down. “Tyson, no. Sit back down, please,” I pleaded quietly. I had a feeling Tyson was as sick of Chucky as I was. Only difference between the two of us was he seemed willing to do something about it. And that scared me. I didn’t mind violence. My mother had conditioned me to accept people’s violent behaviors. But the thought of Tyson possibly getting hurt because of me scared me. What scared me more was the fact he didn’t even seem to think about it, one second he was sitting beside me then the next he was up and ready to take on Chucky.
“Tyson,” I pleaded with my voice. He aimed those dark and dangerous eyes down at me. They roamed over my face before he sat back down stiffly beside me.
“You don’t have to put up with that asshole, Ariel,” he growled at me. “And you don’t have to worry about me, I can take care of myself.”
I nodded and picked up my discarded fries. He was right, of course. I didn’t have to put up with Chucky’s bullshit, but that didn’t mean I needed to feed into it either.
I opened my mouth to tell him as much when loud, wet sounding coughing came from the picnic table beside us. The sound drew my attention and I watched in wide eyed horror as Chucky coughed into his hand and blood spewed out of his mouth. One of the girls screamed.
“What the hell?” Chucky asked as he dropped his hand to wrap both arms around his stomach and he hunched in on himself. Another cough wracked his body and this time blood sprayed out of his mouth as if he were a fountain.
“Help,” someone screamed. “Get help.”
I blinked in shock as I watched Chucky curl into himself, cough loudly and spew blood all over the lap of the Pretty Princess sitting next to him. She screamed high and shrill as she scrambled backwards in an attempt to escape him. She fell off the bench seat and landed with a smack on the cement, right on her ass. The front of her shirt was splattered with dark red spots. The front of her white short shorts had gotten the worst of it. The dark red had seeped into the white fabric. She looked like she’d gotten her period and was simply letting it flow free, like one of those weird hippies I’d seen on tv recently. I am woman, hear me roar. Yikes.
I sat there frozen, as if too afraid to move. It didn’t seem real and I was afraid if I moved it would suddenly be all too real for me.
The blonde Pretty Princess was frantically swiping her hand down the front of her short shorts, trying to wipe the blood away. But it was too late for that. The blood had already soaked into the fabric, staining it. The only thing she succeeded in was further smearing it. She pulled her hands away to stare down at her crimson covered palms and she screamed.
The door opened behind our table and crashed into the brick wall. Help had finally arrived just as my body began to tremble slightly.
Adults rushed forward to help Chucky and, thankfully, they blocked my view of the whole bloody mess. Once I could no longer see him I was finally able to look somewhere else.
Swallowing thickly past the lump in my throat, I took in my new friends. They weren’t looking at the table beside us or the bloody mess all around u. T
hey were looking at each other. Both twins stared at Tyson with dark faces and strangely almost glowing eyes. Tyson’s eyes kept shifting from one twin to the other.
“Do you think…” Abel started.
Tyson shook his head. “He wouldn’t…” He shook his head frantically. “No, he would. I know that, I do. But not without a reason and we’ve given him no reason. I’ve tried to be very careful about anything to do with Ariel when he’s around.”
I watched them quietly, taking in everything I could. There was something else going on here, I’d always known that. It bothered me that I didn’t know what it was, but I hadn’t said anything about it yet because I didn’t want to be rude. Now I wasn’t sure I cared whether or not I came off as rude because whenever they got weird they seemed to be talking about me and if it had to do with me then I had a right to know what the hell was going on. Right? I thought so, too.
Addison and Abel shared a look that spoke louder than actual words ever could.
It was Addison who spoke. “He walked in on us while we were talking about how much we didn’t like Chucky because of the way he treated Ariel. He asked us for specifics and we gave them to him. We didn’t think he’d actually do anything about it. Certainly not,” he waved a hand in the general direction of the chaos beside us, “something like this.”