Scene 9: The New Girl?
By: DropDeadThenDance
I had to stop, take a few deep breaths, and try to compose myself, but I couldn’t focus on anything. I felt like I was under water, disorientated, and trying to figure out which way was up.
I’d always had this problem, the random angry mood swings here and there, the brief black outs and the delirium... I’d almost put my fist through this Emily girl’s head last year because she had been harassing me for weeks, accusing me of screwing Karl when she wanted him. I’d blacked out for a second, coming back to reality shortly after my fist connected with a solid surface.
I hit a locker instead, dented it up pretty good, and busted my hand all too shit. My parents wanted to put me into anger management classes after that, the guidance counselor wanted me put on behavioral meds, and I told everybody it wouldn’t happen again, and it hadn’t…
Mostly.
I flinched then, realizing my hand was bleeding. I glanced up and realized I was in the gym, nowhere near the cafeteria that I had fled from. I flicked my hand back and forth a bit, looking around to see what I had swung at while in my delirious little state. I could see drops of blood on the pristine gym floor, so I followed them over to the benches where there was a nice bloody smear, my fist having connected with the back corner of the bench.
“Nice,” I murmured, shacking my hand back and forth a few more times.
Sound caught my attention and I turned sharply, looking over to one of the three entrances; leaning against the door frame there stood a girl. She was probably a year or so younger than me with a very slight, seemingly flat frame, her hair somewhere between ash or graphite grey, cut to be about shoulder length, and then pulled back into a low set ponytail; she wore a tight, black shirt that read “Peace Maker” on the front in green and white letters, blue jeans, and sneakers. “Are you okay?” she asked suddenly, her voice surprisingly lower than I thought it would be.
I nodded, flinching as I rubbed the fresh wound against my pants. “Yeah, I’m fine,” I said evenly, pulling my sleeve down over my hand when I noticed her eyeing it. “I haven’t seen you before,” time to change the subject, that’s what I figured anyway as I walked up to her.
“Oh, yeah, I started earlier this year. I’m a junior, but they hadn’t decided that until recently,” she explained, smiling up at me.
She was friendly, but nothing like a normal friendly… She gave me an odd vibe, like she could read my mind, or was seriously trying to. Maybe she was?
“Huh, that explains it,” I shrugged off my suspicions and offered my good hand. “I’m Hannah Batson,” I introduced with a slight smile, trying to be a little more friendly than I normally would have been, especially now.
“Nice to meet you,” she responded, taking my hand with a firm grip. “I’m Noah Anderson.”
I paused, staring for a few seconds. “Anderson?” I asked slowly. “Like Mr. Anderson?”
“Yes, exactly. He’s my uncle,” was the explanation and I felt my hand twitch in my pocket, shocked by this tiny kid. There was no family resemblance to be seen, the complexions completely different, the attitudes and builds totally opposite; hell, the only thing they had in common was their brown eyes. Those looked like they’d been copy and pasted onto Noah’s face.
“He hasn’t been giving you a hard time, has he?” inquired Noah, her brown eyes glimmering despite the lack of light in the gym, almost all of the lights off when it wasn’t in use. I laughed at this, not sure of what to say, and Noah just smiled with this odd knowing look. “That bad, huh?”
“Kinda,” I confessed and she smiled at me again.
“He means well, honest,” she crossed a finger over her heart when she said this then gestured that we walk together, her odd friendliness pulling me away from my anger and calming me to the point of total surprise. “So what’s your next class?”
“Actually I got a three day suspension. Probably shouldn’t even be in the school anymore,” I confessed quietly and Noah nodded, totally understanding.
She stopped on the line of the door frame, smiling delicately at me. “Can I walk you to your locker then?”
“Uh, sure,” could I say no? I didn’t feel like it because of how friendly she was being, and the fact that she was Mr. Anderson niece wasn’t helping my predicament at all either. I mean, he seemed like the type of guy who might break some poor sucker’s neck for fucking around with his family, and I wasn’t about to be that sucker.
Thankfully, we were walking around during the in between class period and the halls were completely dead, leaving just the two of us to walk in relative silence; something she didn’t seem to mind at all. In fact, she walked along side me something like Megan might when I was in a bad mood, chill and easy to be around, just a relaxing aura to merge with my hostile one, neutralizing it…
We reached my locker and I kicked in the comb, pulling it open much more delicately than I thought I might have. Noah stood by quietly, watching as if she were studying my hands; I felt like she was observing something about me, something deeper than just how I was moving, or even how I was talking. A little bit like Mr. Anderson had been doing the last three months…
“So how long have you been going to school here?” she asked suddenly and I glanced up.
I shrugged casually, feeling myself grow a bit numb. “Most of life, I guess,” I responded mechanically.
“Do your parents like it here?” she asked as I stuffed a few books and a folder full of assignments into my messenger bag. “I mean, if it’s okay that I ask?” she was so polite, like abnormally courteous despite the look of her. She was dressed so punky and modern, like normal preppy bitches, but she talked and acted like a secretary, or someone who might check you into a hospital.
“Yeah, my parents grew up here so they both love it,” though that wasn’t to say I liked this town. It was the school that really irked me, especially lately. I was just getting sick of being here, even after I cleaned up my act; courteous of our school’s dear Mr. Anderson.
I’m sure you couldn’t sense the sarcasm to that at all.
I stood then, stretching my arms over my head. “Well, Noah, right?” I asked, glancing down at her. She nodded to and I smiled a little. “Where are you and Mr. Anderson from?”
“Oh, well, we’re both from the St. Joseph area, Missouri,” she said simply and I paused, glancing down again. Missouri? my thoughts echoed, my head replaying all of the conversations I’d had with Mr. Anderson over the last three months; neither of them, Noah or him, had a Missouri accent. My uncle Billy, my mom’s brother was from the very northern tip of the state and he had an accent… Just slightly southern, sprinkled on really, but it was still noticeable… Not to mention St Joseph, if I recall, was quite a bit further south than Uncle Billy was living…
I ran my hand through my hair, deciding I was reading way too deep into some minimal things. Not everybody has an accent, Hannah. You’re just trying to find something to grapple with, my thoughts cooed reassuringly, but even they sounded a bit suspicious.
“Do you need a ride home?” Noah asked suddenly and I blinked, glancing down at her.
“You have your license?” she just looked too small to be driving.
She smiled and nodded. “Yeah, I’m on study hall and I have nothing to do. I’d love to give you a ride,” she said and I shrugged, gesturing her lead the way. She walked past me and I followed closely behind, finding myself studying her; the more I looked at this girl, the less and less I thought she was related to Mr. Anderson. He was colored a lot like me, greyish in complexion, yet dark, and he had the muscle tone of a marine or cop, basically someone who kicked ass for a living… Noah looked more like a cute little bunny rabbit.
We walked out a side door and she lead me to a Volkswagen Beetle; it was a jade green color with black trim, the seats black, and the windows all slightly tinted. I glanced at the back and noticed there was a sticker of a small rabbit, its head tilted down as if it were sniffing something on the ground.
I paused then, staring at that sticker for a long time.
“Noah,” I murmured, glancing at her. “That’s kind of an odd name for a girl, don’t you think?” I asked with a slight smile, but I had to stuff my hands into my pockets to hide the quiver that had come to them.
She turned then and blinked innocently, like a deer caught in the headlights, but then she offered me this adorable little grin. “Oh, well actually,” she rubbed the side of her neck, looking embarrassed. “I’m a boy.”
Every nerve in my body seemed to want to lock up, like I’d been struck, but I managed to keep it all down as I realized why he looked so ungodly familiar… It wasn’t that I was reading too much into it, it was that I had already read it...
Scene End
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(4/29/13)