❝All you need is someone who joins in on your weirdness.❞
The tips of my fingers run up and down my bandaged ankle, the swelling very noticeable. I stare long and hard, the gears in my head turning as I think back to the previous night; everything appearing hazy.
“Hey, Mom?” I grab her attention, twisting the sheet between my fingers.
“Yes, sweetie?” she gazed lifted up as she stared at me.
I bit my lip, rolling it between my teeth, somehow suddenly nervous, nervous to ask. "What happened to my ankle?”
It couldn’t have been a dream, it felt too. . . vivid, too real. The pain I felt, the fear that coursed through my veins when that. . wolf showed up.
“You fell off the bed and your foot got caught in the sheets twisting your ankle.”
A frown immediately made it’s way to my face, she was lying straight through her teeth, I had no proof that it didn’t happen but she just was; her face didn’t show it but her body language did.
Those glowing red eyes still haunt my thoughts, never have I saw something so wild, so feral, and bloodthirsty. And that growl. . . a violent shudder ran down my spine as goosebumps began to arise on my arms. It was then the school bell ringing that I was brought out of my deep thoughts, students rushed out of their seats and out the door eager to leave the classroom.
I slowly rise up, careful not to step wrongly with my ankle and made my way through the desks.
“Have a good rest of the day, Miss Simpson,” called out Mr. Newman.
I look over my shoulder just before I step out of the room and into the hall and give him a smile in return. “You too,” I reply.
I then limp out the class, mingling with the sea of students in the hall.
Not even a second later my mind began to drift, a series of questions immediately running laps around my brain making me unaware of my surroundings, nor of the person who rushed in my direction who neither was he paying attention.
’Why do I have a feeling Mom was lying?′ I thought, ’Was there ever a wolf that night?′
My thoughts were cut off by a sudden force that rattled my brain, I was knocked off balance, falling backward and onto my bottom, my eyes squeezed tight in pain from the stinging it brought. A weight fell on top of me and as well on my injured ankle, a short yelp tore from my mouth.
“Oh crap, I’m so sorry!” a voice from on top of me spoke.
The weight lifted off my body in an instant, the pressure on my foot following after, a throbbing pain taking its place. I slowly peel my eyes open to see dark brown eyes staring down at me.
“Are you okay? I didn’t mean to run into you.”
I lick my dry lips, nodded, “Yeah, I think so, it’s fine though.”
I prop myself on my elbows, then gaze up: finally taking in the appearance of the boy kneeling before, his chocolate colored hair sat ruffled on top of his head, the direction of it swept to the side as his soft eyes stared at me in concern.
“Can you get up?” he asks, looking me over, his head tilts back a bit— almost unnoticeable and sniffs, his eyes slowly widening.
Holding back a scowl of frustration, I nod mutely while bringing my feet underneath me and try to lift myself just before pain strikes my ankle causing me to fall down on my bottom once again. A hiss passing through my clenched teeth.
“No, I-I can’t.” I breathe out, looking him in the eye.
His eyes widen and his shifts his gaze down to my swollen ankle, I see a flicker of remorse cross over his face.
“Did I. .? Did I do that?” he blurted.
I instantly shook my head, giving him a warm smile to calm his nerves. “Don’t worry about it, can you help me up?”
He jerked his body into motion, “Crap! Sorry.” he muttered apologetically.
I couldn’t help but chuckle as he grabs my hand and gently begins to pull me up to my feet, I move one of my hands to grip his forearm lifting myself as well. The moment I was on my feet, I realize all movement in the halls stopped except the occasional shifting of feet. I realize people were watching.
Heat rushes to my cheek as the boy bends down to pick up my book bag.
“Oh, I got that,” I say, taking it away from his hands and throwing it over my shoulder.
He nods and slowly steps away, his hand still holding my own to balance me. His eyebrows furrow together, his gaze locked on my ankle that was slightly held in the air.
“Do you need help or. .?” he trails off, fidgeting.
“Please,” I laugh nervously. “I’m just heading to the gymnasium.”
He nods, moving closer, throwing my arm over his shoulder with his other hand resting on my waist.
“All right,” he agrees and begins to walk slowly with me limping beside him. All while ignoring the stares on my back.
I slam my hand on the wall beside the double metal doors that led into the gymnasium, I remove my arm from the boy’s shoulder and place my other hand on the long silver bar, opening the door. It swings in and he moves forward to hold the door open for me.
Lifting my head, I lock eyes with twenty pairs of curious ones staring right at me, and for the second time, that heat in my cheeks spreads across my face.
“Thank you for your help,” I voice, turning my attention back toward the boy who stood beside the door, a nervous expression looming over his face.
His eyes snap to mine, an awkward smile on his lips. “You’re welcome. If that’s all, I’ll take my leave. .”
He turns to leave, but my hand shoots out to grab his shoulder and he halts in his steps, glancing over his shoulder then at something far behind me.
“I didn’t catch your name.”
I watch him gulp, his face seeming paler than before while his eyes kept shifting behind me; before his eyes suddenly clouded and he tensed.
“N-Noah,” came his stammered reply, through ragged breathing. “My names Noah R-Ross.”
And before I could say anything else or thank him again, he shakes my hand off his shoulder and basically bolts out the gym leaving me dumbfounded.
“Um. . . okay then.” I mutter, “Nice meeting you too,” I say to myself now.