“If there are any problems come see me after class,” she said and I could swear she was talking directly to me. I turned my head and really looked at the person sitting beside me for the first time in over a year.
James
Mickey looked at me with disgust. Her multi-colored brown-blue eyes that used to be so full of life, were now hollow like the life had been drained from them one second at a time. She gave me the shivers and made me feel sick, my stomach constricted under her glare. Please don’t look at me like that I wanted to beg. I’m sorry. I should have said it but I couldn’t, so I did what I’d learned best and gave her a look saying the same thing, I hate you. I looked away, not able to take it anymore, why did she hold so much power over me? It was me who ended it all, but still when she looked at me, I felt like I was sixteen all over again and we were closer than any kind of chemical bonds to ever exist. When I felt her glare was off me, I snuck quick glances at her. Her olive skin was all clear and soft looking, I wanted to brush my hand over her cheek and see how it would feel. Would it feel the same? Probably not, she’d never feel the same to me again. Her hair was different, no longer short and ending at her chin, now it ended below her chest, a dark chestnut brown that cascaded down her back. She had lost weight, a lot too, not that it had ever mattered to me. Her face was pained like I was the grave, her grave.
I didn’t hear two words that whole class while I watched Mickey. She was prettier than ever, how could I think this after everything, everything I had done. She kept tapping the end of her lead pencil but never actually pressing down on it. Her nails had no polish on them, unlike most of the girls at school but then again Mickey never believed in makeup or anything artificial like that. She believed none of it mattered, only the person on the inside did, and there was no way to change that so why pretend on the outside? She’d also say we are all unique and that’s what makes us all special, so why try to look the same? She was never vain before so she never thought she was pretty but now I wondered if she knew how pretty she was.
“You look good,” I whispered, not thinking like usual when I used to be around her, old habits die hard. She sucked in air, looking shocked that I had even spoken to her. Maybe that was out of line after what I had done and said but I couldn’t help it, I’d wanted to talk to her ever since that day but after what she did, it was impossible to forgive her so why now did I feel I should? Probably because this was the closest we’d been in almost two years, I decided. Right when the bell rang, she jolted out of her chair like it was on fire and she couldn’t handle the searing pain one second longer and that’s what she looked like, like she was in pain. I got up much more slowly and went to stand behind her while she continued to talk to Mrs. Becker, apparently a total hard ass, Cody had told me.
“Please let me switch. Anyone but James, please,” she pled frantically, her voice all wobbly. Ouch, that hurt to hear.
“Yeah, Mrs. Becker. You have to let us switch,” I said, making myself known, trying to show the feeling was mutual. That clearly wasn’t the best thing to say. Mrs. Becker narrowed her eyes at us and her thin lips pursed into a firm frown.
“You two will not get to switch,” she stated firmly. “You out of all people know what we do when we face challenges,” she said speaking to Mickey. Mickey looked sick, her olive skin was getting a greenish tint to it and her lips began to shake as she responded, they always did this whenever she felt anxious, nervous, scared, or sick.
“Yes, Mrs. Becker,” she answered unsteadily and then left the class just as fast as she’d gotten up from her chair. I was about to leave as well when Mrs. Becker grabbed my arm stopping me.
“Not so fast James, I don’t know what history you two have but I will not have it interfering with my class,” she said sternly. I nodded and continued to leave. “James, is that understood?” she asked loudly.
“Yes,” I answered flatly and left the classroom. Cody, Tiffany, and Anna were waiting outside for me.
“Dude, what was that about!” Cody asked, pounding me in the shoulder.
“What?” I asked, trying to act like nothing had happened.
“Michael-a, totally freaking out and then bringing the teacher into it!”
“Michaela,” I corrected, I couldn’t resist. I hated it when people mispronounced names. ‘Michael-a’ is how most people pronounced her name but really it was ‘Mick-eye-ella’. It was Spanish. Her step-father had named her when she was born. “We don’t get along, so we asked the teacher to switch us but Mrs. Bitcher said no,” I explained, trying to sound pissed off but even with drama class, I was a terrible actor. Why wasn’t I also upset?
“She’s probably still obsessed with you,” Tiffany joked laughing. I’d say the opposite but they all laughed along.
“At least I sit at the desk beside you, bro,” Cody laughed, patting me on the back.
“Yeah,
