Scarletts Scars Ch.3

I pop my gum loudly as I started my English test. Ten minutes later I get up and place it on the turn in rack. First one done, as always, but I dont really care. School always comes easy to me, for instance, I couldve taken that test in my sleep. Teachers were just starting to accept that I wouldnt speak, even to them. The oral assignments had to be turned into written assinments for me or else I refused to participate.
I pull out my ipod and push play, turning it up halfway, loud enough to drown out the chattering class but low enough so Miss Richards wouldnt take it away.. my only sanctuary besides paper.

-Stop and stare
I think Im moving but I go nowhere
Yeah I know that everyone gets scared
But Ive become what I cant be oh
Stop and stare
You start to wonder why youre here not there
And youd give anything to get what's fair
But fair aint what you really need
Oh can you see what I see-

As Im writing in my notebook, I feel someone starring at me...

Dont look up... Dont look up... Dont look up...

I look up through my eyelashes and see a tall boy starring at me across the room.

He wasnt here yesterday... He must be new...

His long brown hair covers one of his eyes, flipping slightly at the ends. He sees me looking back at him and smiles a small, crooked half smile. It almost made me want to smile back. I look back down at the poem i was working on in my notebook to hide my blush.
After class, I pack up my old, tattered back pack and get up to leave. The boy is standing by the door as if waiting for something.. or someone.

Is he waiting for me..?

He is. I try to walk past him, but he stops me by grabbing my wrist and turning me towards him.

What the hell??

i turn my wrist and pull it out of his grasp easily, and walk out of the door. He follows me, "Whats your name?" he asks, his voice is velvety.. but rough at the same time.
I look at him and point to one of my bracelets.
"Scarlett..." he whispers, more to himself than to me.

I decide to take advantage of his pause, and steps into the passing crowd, where its nearly impossible to find someone.

"Wait!" he calls into the throng of rushing people.. but its too late, I'm gone.
__________

I sit down and look at my wrists.. the growing anxiety is overwhelming..

Not here... I dont want to do it here...

I get up and walk over to the bathroom, lock myself in a stall, and sit down. I rumage through my backpack and pull out the small black case I hold my art supplies in.. less suspicious. I grab my razor and dry handwipes, and take all my bracelets off of my left arm. The razor bites into my arm, going over an old scar making it new again. No tears to spill... too many have been wasted on pointless things... no more tears to spill.
I clean the new wound and stop the bleeding, inhaling sharply as I replace my bracelets; they are irritating my fresh cut.

Im numb.. for now.. Damn.. time to go back out..

I go back to my lone spot in the corner of the cafeteria. A small space in a window, where the ledge is just big enough to sit on. I pull my legs up to my chest, and wrap my arms around them, searching my songs on my ipod as i do so.

-you cut me open and I... keep bleeding, keep, keep bleeding love. I keep bleeding, I keep, keep bleeding love.. oh you cut me open and I....-

I feel a tap on my shoulder and look up to see the boy from English, sitting down on the ledge across from me.

Not him again..

"Hi... Scarlett, right?" he asks, flashing that crooked halfsmile.

I nod, and push pause on my ipod.

"Cool, Im Blake. What grade are you in?" he asks, looking at me with his chocolate brown eyes.

I hold up a finger; one moment. I take out my phone and start a new message.

message: hello Blake. nice to meet you..
im a junior, u?

I hand him the phone and wait for him to ask the golden question.. "why dont you talk?"
But blake didnt ask that.. Instead, he says "Im a junior too. i just transferred here from Westlake. Whats your schedual?" As he said this, he handed me the phone back.

He didnt ask...
I was incredulous. i type out another message into my phone;

message: Lovo, math. fritzen, choir. PE.
English, Richards. lunch. Reynalds,
Art. and free period.

I hand him back my phone, and fighting back a smile, turn my ipod off.

"We have English and Art together!" he exclaimed, smiling a weird chagrin and handing me the phone again.

What am I doing??

I take the phone and type:

message: kool.. i uhh... i gata go..

I hand him the phone, and when he looks up when he looks up at me, a confused look on his face, and I grab my phone back and get up. As i walk away, Blake gets up and lightly grabs my hand.

"Wait, please dont leave again..." he says, aalmost desperately.

I pull my hand back gently and shake my head, walking backwards slowly, then turn away.

I cant start feeling things again... I promised myself.. I cant do this...

But I couldnt help looking back at him one more time. I looked at the spot where his hand had touched mine so gently.. how his had enveloped my small hand in his big one.. How cold my hand seemed now..

No.. I cant think of him. I cant let myself..