Halfway through a dreary PowerPoint and monotonous lecture, a piece of lined paper flicked onto the desk in front of me. I jerked up, looking at it before glancing around to see who had put it there. The same girl shot me a disgustedlook.
"Just read it," she mouthed before rolling her eyes and turning away. I unfolded thenote.
I thought you were pretty cool yesterday. We should hang out sometime. –G
Beneath the scribbled sentence was a phone number. I looked up, even more confused. I saw him, the guy who was among the football team party that had sat in my section at the diner – the one the others had all deferred to. He smiled my way and tilted his head, indicating that the note in my hands was, in fact, from him. I blinked. He couldn't mean me. This note was obviously meant for someone else. I felt so embarrassed. I had read someone else's note. I turned to hand it to the person on my right, but the seat was empty. I forgot that it had sat empty since the last change of seating arrangements. I stared ahead, because the only other girl in my immediate area had been the one to shove it on mydesk.
I stared at the note and when the bell rang, signaling the end of class, I jumped because football boy was standing right there. He hovered at the front of my desk, smiling down atme.
"Hey." He had a great smile with impeccably white, straight teeth. Most people didn't have teeth thatperfect.
"Hi." I tried to swallow around my drythroat.
"You got my note." He shifted as a couple of students in my row passed him on their way out the door, a couple stopping to slap him on the shoulder. I needed to leave as well or I would miss mybus.
"Yea, I did." I stood and hesitated for a second, my right hand lingering over the note. "Here." I handed the note back and brushed past him. "I'm sorry, but I'mbusy."
I scurried to the classroom door, hoping to make it out and away before he could stop me. Unfortunately, I hit a block just outside the doorway. A crowd of students all congregated, some yelling and screaming as two guys broke into a fight. An elbow jabbed into my side and I gasped as I toppled over – right back into footballguy.
"Fight! Fight! Fight!"Students jeered and cawed at each other, waving their arms in the air and shaking their heads as theywatched.
I frowned as thesmaller of the two boys, a freshman with a crop of curly, blond hair was shoved, face first, into the hall lockers. Blood spurted from hisnose.
"Well, if you won't take my number, can I have yours?" Football guy asked. “Name’s Grayson, by theway.”
My head pivoted in his direction. I had forgotten that he was the only thing holding me off the ground. He didn't seem to mind because his smile hadn'tfaded.
"Um..."
"Come on! Take him down, Thomas!" someoneyelled.
I flinched when the freshman's face came away from the lockers only to be slammed back into the metal door repeatedly.Where is the teacher?The crowd of students propagated, breeding unrest and hormone fueled anger.Do they even know the kid they are condemning?Iwondered.
"If you give me your number, then there's no pressure for you to call me, now is there?" Football boy tilted his head. "It's all on me to callyou."
What was he talking about? Couldn't he see that a poor kid was beinghurt?
"Aren't you going to do something about this?" I gestured to thefight.
He was a football player, a jock. Despite what TV shows might have people believe, they were fairly nice guys from what I had experienced. A little rowdy, like some had been last night, but they left good tips. Acting juvenile didn't make them bad. He looked up, surveying the circle of angry and yelling students, the fight, as if it was the first time he had noticed it, and back down at me. "Why?"
"Why?" I blinked. "What do you mean, why? Because that poor kid is getting the crap beat out of him. That'swhy."
He looked back to the fight again. "If I stop it, will you give me yournumber?"
I shook my head. "You're bargaining withme?"
The freshman's face made it to the floor as the other, much larger, guy–Thomas–jerked the kid down and began pounding into him. The freshman curled inward, trying to escape theblows.
"Get him! Come on, you can do better thanthat!"
I couldn't take it anymore. Someone had to do something. I twisted away from football guy, dropping my backpack at his feet, and dove for the freshman. Many students froze the moment I broke the circle as if I had just disturbed a very powerfulspell.
The yells and the taunts grew quiet until the guy beating up the freshman looked up, blood on his knuckles. Confusion covered his face as though he didn't understand why no one was cheering him on anymore. I stood over him, panting inanger.
"Get off!" I grabbed the back of his shirt, my hands closing around the neckline, and jerked. He frowned as his shirt stretched, but he didn't move. He batted my hand away as though I were a pesky fly. I glared at him as the freshman peeked at me through hisarms.
"This ain't got nothing to do with you, bitch," Thomas snapped, twisting back to his target. The freshman whimpered and covered himself upagain.