Safety At His Command

Headed His Way

The bell could not come soon enough and when it did, William was the first out, slapping his thesis statement on the board with the post-it note that said:

“Life is full of choices to be thankful for, to be regretful for, but above else to lean from.”

While usual thesis statements were thirty to forty words long, his was not and would obviously be rejected by his teacher but possibly accepted by the one it was for; Malorie.

He was out the door before his father could harass him any further. The student body that followed surged out, giving him hell for the assignment that he was responsible for giving them, but ultimately, he didn’t care. He shrugged them off as he made his way down the hallway for no purpose really. Study Hall was a joke. It was literally a place to harbor students that had no schedule or no place to go but couldn’t leave because of… “reasons” put in place by the school board.

The school board, he snorted, were the most overpaid and under qualified jokers, but hey, it meant he could scoot out without anyone being of the wiser, and the best way out with the least security and cameras was laughably out the art department’s wing. That had to be the dumbest thing or the greatest. It was probably an accident, really. Those art students were something else with their projects. If there wasn’t a nude being done or someone’s work exploded, it wasn’t art and there was a lot to be said about that.

William smirked about it as he reached the double door for the stairwell leading him down to it, when a hand caught the crook of his elbow. There were calls still behind him about his choices on thesis statements about blowing up the school which were outlandish and put him on edge. When he felt the intrusion, he jumped in his skin but flinched, ready to punch the person if needed… but it wasn’t necessary.

He immediately felt a flush of regret in his initial response when he saw Malorie on his arm. His arm. His…

She hadn’t pulled away either.

She just stood there, wide eyed and hopeful, he thought.

Neither spoke, not for a long moment, but he knew what she wanted, why she was there. William wished for more, his eyes probably telling more than he could stop them from, but he was sure she didn’t completely pick up on it. Not because he thought less of her in any way, it was just that no one really looked at him to see into his heart. If they had, he wouldn’t have a need for the walls he constructed. He could just be, like the rest of their peers, but that was besides the point.

“Where are you headed next?” she finally rushed out.

No thank you, or hello… just where to? What did that mean?

“Art department,” he replied knowing that ears were everywhere.

Saying he was leaving was an open path for rumors to spread and he certainly didn’t need his father getting wind of it. He had enough to deal with when he got home.

If he found a reason to be home.

William felt distant even in her hold, struggling to reach for the moment he was in currently.

“I’m headed that way, too,” she replied, her voice a whisper as she dipped her head in that direction, keeping her hand where it lied.

Williams' heart started beating harder still, hoping she didn’t realize the effect she had on him. Not yet anyway. Not until he knew how she felt about him. If she felt anything at all.

“Oh?” he replied with no other idea of how to.

“Yeah,” she offered, then waved to Brian who made his way east through the building to wherever it was he needed to go.

William didn’t care. He only cared that Brian was gone and Malorie was still very keen on holding onto his arm.

“I’m going this way if…”

“Sounds perfect,” she replied, pushing through the door with him into the secluded stairwell.

It was like entering their own little world. Just the two of them. It was everything he could have wished for but also lacking in the fact that it was the school stairwell and not some romantic place he took her to. All the air still left his lungs despite the fact making movement slow and the realization that they were there alone even more present.

No one ever really used that stairwell.

While he didn’t really know why, he refrained from bringing it up. There was no reason to ruin this… whatever it was, with some useless knowledge not even he needed for more than an easy exit.

The moment the heavy blue doors came to a close, he felt the slightest tug at his sweatshirt where her arm had settled. Her footsteps halted at the sound of the doors settling and he couldn’t help but to study her in that moment. He needed this, to commit this time alone with her to memory, and so he took in the way she moved, how unsettled she felt against him, but then she looked up at him, into his own eyes, catching him in the act.

“Um,” she said, startling herself to break her own stare.

William watched her drop her gaze from his to where she held him as if she meant to drop them to the floor, but got caught up with how they were connected. Her hands shook as she let go of him and the warmth he lost burned him deeply.

“I wanted to thank you for what you, um, did,” she continued, but didn’t look him in the eyes after.

What was that about?

William dipped his head a little, not sure if she was hiding from him now or if she was embarrassed to be with him. Either way it didn’t make sense.

“Yeah,” he pushed himself to respond. “Don’t worry about it,” he continued to mumble.

“Yeah,” she replied distantly as if she wanted to tell him something more, possibly about the note he held.

But she didn't.

There wasn’t much more than an awkward silence followed by the second bell that visibly startled her. She turned her head back towards the door, panic only filling her.

“You don’t need to go to the art room, do you?” William said, startling her from her anxiety.

“No,” she answered, she looked defeated and shook her head.

“Why’d you lie about it then?” he asked, gaining him an inquisitive look that was marred with mistrust.

She, however, didn’t satisfy it with an answer he was looking for. Instead she said, “I wanted to thank you,” she said, swallowing the rest of her reply before adding, “and I want the note you grabbed from Mr., I mean, your dad’s desk.”

So she did know.

How much did she know, he wondered.

How much would she tell?

“Ah,” he nodded at the pocket he stuffed it in. “So, that’s all then?” his reply was bittersweet and the tone certainly delivered it.

“Will,” she stopped his name from sighing out of her as if she would be hurt that it would leave her lips, his heart begged for the thought, but he was still on edge with her. She did just lie to him for no reason. “I don’t trust people, at all, actually,” she managed to push out of her.

“You trust Brian,” William replied with an edge to his voice that he wished he could take back.

“Brian?” she questioned. “What does my relationship with Brian have anything to do with this?”

William, a man of his words, had the hardest time controlling his feelings about what she just asked. His mind settled on key words that revolved around a relationship with Brian and not specifically what kind. She said “relationship”. That was enough paired with all of the flirtatious acts the guy participated in throughout the school year. They were an item and that was it.

His heart began to c***k, threatening to break into tiny shards that would inevitably echo as they fell down the stairs before him, about a time he loved a girl and she didn’t love him back.

“Nothing,” William tried to settle his thoughts and keep his cool.

“Brian’s a kid like me," she muttered. "We look out for each other, something I thought you knew how to do considering the amount of balls it took to stand up to Mr. Saunders the way you did for a girl you very clearly don’t even know,” she bit out, stopping him from descending through the well.