I'll Take A Bullet For You

Chapter 3

        There was this girl named Zara in grade nine. She had a couple other friends, Carmela, Nikita, and Shelly. Nikita and I were one of her friends, the newest members in her group at the start of grade nine. I still remember how enthusiastic, vain, and dramatic Zara was. She could be too demanding at times, too bossy, or even a little mean. Ever since I was little, my friendships didn't last long. I wasn't ready to break another one. 

        The summer of grade nine, something was different. Zara stopped replying to my texts. Carmela and Nikita didn't know what happened, but Shelly and Zara stopped coming to Elsen High. Carmela has new friends now, and I sometimes see Nikita in the hallway. We nod at each other as a greeting, but we aren't as close as we used to be. Because of the schedule change, she's in my English class. I don't know what to make of that. 

        I have to water the plants outside, a couple hours after school ended. Ruth is with me on the porch and she's reading a magazine about healthy diet tips and how to be fit. Ruth is pretty skinny, but I don't ask her why she's reading the magazine. I grab the hose and begin watering the violets.

        Out of conscience, I look towards Alistair's house. He's not outside now, but I do see two other cars pulled up on his driveway. It must be his friends, or his parents might've returned; if they ever left. 

        "You're really curious about those Carlsons, aren't you?" Ruth asks me, lifting her head from the magazine. I turn my attention to her and back on the flowers.

        "I've always been. It's just really weird. They're all weird," I say. Ruth nods, as if she understands. "Aren't you ever curious, too? Have they ever talked to you when you're outside or when you go to college every morning?"

        She shrugs. "I do see them. I smile and nod and they nod back in reply. It's something." She looks up at the sky. "They don't ignore us, but they're quite empty on words. At least the boy, anyway." 

        "Alistair?" I ask. A smile plays on her lips. "I have him in all of my classes. He doesn't say anything to me, just talks to his own friends. Kallen calls them the Black Cats."

        "Kallen is very pessimistic, but you shouldn't get bothered by him," she says. "And Alistair is a mysterious one. Even I don't know what happened to his parents. If you're very curious, you should ask him yourself." The hose almost slips out of my hands. I can't ask Alistair anything when I can't bring myself to even look at him. Something is metal and steel about him, his eyes like a hawk's. 

        A movement makes both of us look over. I see Alistair and his friends coming out of the front door, talking. We can't hear their words clearly, but it takes them only about a second to notice Ruth and me. Jarvis and the fourth Black Cat I don't know the name of, continue to walk across the driveway and towards their car. Alistair is staring at us, and Mathias is beside him, observing. I don't know why he keeps doing that. Alistair stares more than he talks, stares more than he blinks. It's annoying. 

        "Why don't you go talk to them?" Ruth suggests. I choke on dry air, dismissing that very thought immediately. "They are looking at you. So they must know you, right?" I shrug, moving to the roses. This makes my back turn to the boys.

        Once I'm done watering the plants, I go back into the house with Ruth and complete my homework. I have a lot today since Haiiee didn't complete the questions for her astronomy class. She regrets taking that course, she doesn't even like astronomy. Her likes and dislikes change often, and moods, too. One day, she will for sure complain about boyfriends. She will say she's lucky she doesn't have one. And the next day, she will say she needs one. That's her. 

        Lena on the other hand? She isn't a brainiac but has a strong passion for poetry, literature, and even singing. She's perfect. She's got a boyfriend that loves her dearly, a whole backup plan for her future, the confidence and optimism, and the take-it-easy and don't-care-what-anyone-thinks attitude. She's going to go places. Up to this day, I wonder how Hailee and Lena became friends--bestfriends.

        I wish it was that easy for me. 

        I'm that girl who doesn't know where she belongs. Where she should be, or where she will be the happiest. I wait for the miracle to come towards me, and fall into place. 

***Next School Day***

        Alistair is in all four of my classes. It's rare we have classes together, but now that we do, I don't know if I'm happy or unhappy. It's been only a couple of days since the schedule revamp, but it feels like a second ago. Everyone is still getting used to their new classes and settling with their new peers. I'm on the same boat, but that boat is going backwards. I'm getting more and more uncomfortable by the passing days. But at the same time, a great feeling of joy sits inside my stomach. 

        The bell rings and Ms. Ally is already at the front of the classroom. 

        "Alright, everyone. As we've reviewed some concepts yesterday, please complete the worksheet based on your understanding. We'll take it up in ten minutes," Ms. Ally says. 

        The sheet is easy and I finish it no time. When I look to my left, Alistair is on his phone and slouching back against his seat. The worksheet on his desk is empty and he hasn't got his textbook or pencil out. I look at him for minutes, wondering if I should let him know that we're supposed to do the worksheet given.

        Finally, I clear my throat. "Uh...Alistair?" My voice is too quiet and bashful, but he hears and looks at me. "You're supposed to do the, uh, worksheet Ms. Ally gave to us." I glance at the clock and stare at my desk. "You only have four minutes left before she takes it up." 

        He doesn't say anything, staring at me for the next five seconds before bending to get his textbook. I expected a thank you, but he doesn't say that either. This is the second time I've ever talked to him, and once again, he doesn't reply. I can only think of one thing: he doesn't like talking to people that he doesn't like. That's pretty much everyone. Including me. 

        Ms. Ally takes up the worksheet for the next fifteen minutes. It's easy to concentrate if I have something to distract me. I listen with all my attention and my eyes are fixed to the white board she writes her formulas on. And then, she tells us something.

        "In your textbook on page 240, there is a challenge activity. It will be due on Friday and you will be working with the person beside you," she says and adds, "Please work on your own time. We have to learn some more key things before the final unit test."

        My mind goes completely blank. For the first time in my life, I have an assignment with Alistair. He doesn't talk to me, I don't know if he's good at math, and I certainly don't know if we can meet up to work on the assignment. I really hope he talks to me now, out of necessity. Even if it's just until the assignment is over--

        "It's page 240." Alistair says, his closest hand flipping my textbook pages. I'm stunned to hear his voice, a quiet and low, and surprisingly calm tone. Once page 240 shows up, I don't know what to do. I read the challenge activity and mentally break down the parts each of us can do. 

        "You know how to do this?" I ask carefully, briefly looking at him. Alistair sits back on his seat. "Well, do you need some extra help...or you might not need..." I drift off. I don't want Alistair to think I find him stupid. And if I do, he's probably going to not like someone criticizing him. 

        "Just tell me what to do," he says. His eyes are the only thing I pay attention to when they turn to me. "And if I need your help, I'll ask." The same feeling of my stomach rising and dropping spreads in me. 

        I hold my breath. "Well, there are four parts to the challenge," I say and use my finger to point at each part. "If it's okay with you, I want to do part two and four." He sits still, waiting. If he hasn't objected yet, he must be okay with that. I take the risk to continue, allowing myself to ease a bit. I lean back from my text book once I'm done explaining, and turn to him. "Okay?"

        Alistair takes out a lined piece of paper and starts working. I take that as a yes. I begin my own part and try to loosen my compacted stomach. Today, Alistair talked to me for the first time. Obviously he had to, but even then, I don't know why it makes me so happy. He didn't sound scary when he spoke. His words were nothing like that. 

        Time passes by, the classroom filled with a low murmur as partners work on the assignment. Five minutes before the bell, Ms. Ally tells us to pack up. 

        Alistair puts away his books and I fiddle with my fingers until he's done. I need to ask him how we will finish the assignment, but am too afraid. He's probably not going to say anything if I don't.

        "Um," I attempt to get his attention. While still bent over his backpack, he looks around. "This assignment, when should we work on it after today?" His impassive expression makes me worry. "Um, if you're fine with working on your part and you know what to do, we can just bring the papers to school on Friday and staple it together--"

        "Your house tomorrow after school?" he interrupts. This time, the butterflies that erupt in my stomach don't leave. My mouth somehow doesn't work though I want to say 'sure'. Alistair holds my gaze for a few seconds and resumes packing. It takes me a while to regain my thoughts because the way he said that, so bluntly...it surprised me.

        "Uh, ya. Ya, sure," I stammer. "I'll let my parents know and we can...yeah." Alistair stands up with the backpack slung on one shoulder. From behind him, I see Mathias walking up to us. I should probably go before he gets here.

        "Great," Alistair says. He turns around when Mathias calls him and I pack like a greedy child stuffing chocolate into his mouth. As I wear my backpack and practically run past them, Mathias catches my eye. I pretend I don't notice and wait by the door. 

        My next class is English, and more than half the class is already packed with students. Mathias is not in this class, but Jarvis and the fourth Black Cat are. We weren't assigned seats in this classroom so everyone sat where they pleased. Alistair and his friends were at the very back corner, amidst a group consisting of Leif, Carla, Greg, and Cameron.

        I sit somewhere near the window, in the same column as Alistair's group. In fact, I only sit a desk in front of them. Beside e sits a chubby boy named Darcel. He's super short, wears thickly framed glasses, wrinkles his nose a lot, and hunches over his desk and covers his work all the time. His dirty blonde hair is cut very short, mere bristles on his scalp; it looks more white than blonde. Directly behind us is Joanna, sitting by herself.

        Directly in the seat in front of me sits Nikita. She's the tallest girl in the class, straight black bob-cut hair circling her jaw, sharp greyish green eyes, and high cheekbones. She sits beside Angelia, I suppose is one of her friends. I feel confined. Trapped and miserable. 

        Mr. Wright is our English teacher, possibly the best in the entire school. I'm glad to still have him after the schedule change. He's old, has a large white beard and played a Santa in Elsen High for ten years straight. He's wearing a feather hat with a medieval blouse and velvet boots today. I know what that means.

        "Hello everyone!" his deep voice rumbles. "Guess who I am for the next two weeks?" He cups a hand to the side of his mouth. "Hint: I'm a great, popular lover." 

        "Mr. Wright, you're too old to be Romeo," Cameron calls out, rolling his eyes. This doesn't offend Mr. Wright. Instead, he laughs a deep laugh.

        "Oh that's not true Mister Finch," he says, turning on the Smart Board. "Love is for all ages, can come any time, and lasts however long it does. We're all beautiful and capable of love. No questions asked!" Beside me, Darcel tightens and I probably know what he's thinking. He can never see himself as a Romeo, let alone find a Juliet. I just wish guys like him will somehow build some self-esteem and enjoy what they do have. 

        We start Shakespeare today, if it hadn't been obvious. I don't like Romeo and Juliet, because it's a little embarrassing to read aloud. Also, though it has a splendid message at the end, the occurrence of certain events in the play do irk me. We are handed the maroon, hard-covered books and assigned the number. Mr. Wright picks readers from Act 1 Scene 1, and I'm glad I'm not one of them. 

        Greg is one of the readers and he comments non-stop in between of the kind of writing in the play. Students hold in their laughs and I hear some girls giggle. Mr. Wright warns him. 

        "'Tis all one, I will show myself a tyrant: when I have fought with the men, I will be cruel with the maids, and cut off their heads. Wha'da f**k is this?" Greg mutters, saying his role of Sampson in the play. "I thought his s**t's supposed to be all romance and s*x. Do people die? The maids die. Everyone! Beware that I will murder the maids!" Everyone bursts out laughing. 

        "Greg! Now, if you keep interrupting and criticizing the book, I might have to move you from your friends," Mr. Wright warned. "Would you like that, young man?"

        "No sir," he replied. When Mr. Wright looks down at his book, Greg smirks and continues to read. I follow along and not too later, Greg makes another comment. "Nay, as they dare. I will bite my thumb at them; which is a disgrace to them, if they bear it. Are you kidding me? What a bunch of babies sucking thumbs," he says in disbelief. Leif snorts and that's when Mr. Wright stands up. 

        "Alright, that's it. Gregory, switch spots with Darcel. Now, go," Mr. Wright says with a slight edge of anger. This news alarms me and Greg looks at his new spot. He sneers when he sees me and obediently switches spots with Darcel. This is going to be a nightmare. "One more outburst and I'll assign you extra homework." The class falls silent and the reading resumes. 

        "Hey, babe," Greg whispers to me, leaning abnormally close. Hairs stand still on my neck as I lean away, giving him the hint. He doesn't take it. "Why so far away?"

        "Greg!" Mr. Wright says. Greg scowls and takes his book. After that, there are no more interruptions. Why didn't Mr. Wright put Greg beside Joanna? She isn't sitting beside anyone. Two more classes and I can head home. I'm honestly tired with everything.

        A hundred years of peace will not be enough for me.