A Sky Full of Blue

Chapter 8: Crimson is the Color of the Lockers

"When sunset, like a crimson throat to hell, is cavernous." ~George Sterling

Running away has always been the best option for me. I don't know why, but feeling torn away from someone, even if it's by your own doing, really frees you in a way.

Hiding behind the lockers in gym is a good way to avoid any contact at all. I'm hiding in the shadows, squeezed by the closed off space. It feels good and awful at the same time to feel this alone. My brother knows about my problem, but Theo and Delilah do not. They are afraid of some of the things I do. I scared my only friend because I don't adequately know how to share.

I feel the tears start to fall, and my brain tries to piece together the emotion that comes with it. I pick through my brain to try and find the cards that my therapist always brought out every session. I needed to learn, and I wish that I'd paid more attention.

I can't tell what it is and that frustrates me even more. I'm having more trouble than I would have if I had no friends.

I let the tears fall and wipe the few from my face that decide to stick. My thoughts come in at full force, reminding me that skipping class is not a good way to keep good tabs on the school. I don't want that type of reputation, albeit an almost nonexistant one.

I hear one of the doors to the locker room open, and hear the various voices of the teenage girls in the class above me. One of these girls include the mold colored girl, the girl that told me to back off from Theo.

I don't quite understand. There was nothing going on in the first place, was there? So why is it a big issue that I'm talking to a boy, more or less a very cute one? I mean, he's one of my brother's friends; I should be able to socialize. After all, Toby is leaving for college next fall. I hear savage whispers and wonder if any of them are about me.  I didn't even know that they knew who I was. I get as close as I can to them without being seen.

"I mean, how can he like her? She's got two different colored eyes, and she's so little!" I can hear a shrill whisper right in front of where I'm hiding, and it makes me want to sob. I can't help the way that I am. A warning bell rings, which sets me in gear. I have to get to class at some point or another.

Once all of the girls leave I get up from my hiding place and report to my next period class. My teacher doesn't even look up from her desk, sorting papers and shushing the class when they get too rowdy. Some of the girls from the locker room giggle when I enter, but I try to ignore it. The sound hurts my ears anyway.

I try to pay attention to the lesson, but I start to doodle in my notebook instead. I draw large, blue eyes with long, dark eyelashes. I draw a lopsided smile with perfectly straight teeth. I draw an outline of a boy set in motion, sprinting across a soccer field, dribbling the ball into the goal. The bell rings before I know it, but I'm stuck in my seat, drawing away.

The teacher gets up and stands in front of me. I don't pay attention to the shadow in front of the desk and continue with my work. I don't know why those eyes fascinate me so much.

"I understand that some of these advanced classes still bore you, Miss Hudson, but you need to pay attention," she begins. She doesn't know that when I'm focused on something else I devote all of my time to that one thing. It can be quite obssesive at times. She rips the paper from my palms, and I try not to scream. I lift my eyes to her while she inspects the drawing. She sighs.

"If you can tell me what today's lesson was, I'll let this slide." She waits, still holding the notebook in her grasp. It's held hostage and I need to get it away.

"I'm sorry, but until you place the notebook back on the desk I cannot answer your question. " I cringe at my own words, but they're true and I will not be able to focus until she does it. She puts it back without a word, complying without questioning. Most teachers wouldn't do that.