I took a deep breath and closed my eyes for a second before making the attempt. His entire body stiffened as I approached him, and I watched his sneer twist into anger. He obviously did not want me close to him and probably, really did not want me talking to him. I slowly let out my deep breath and stopped at the edge of his desk. Randy twisted from the seat in front of Josh to watch, his eyes nervous.
The teacher, Mr. Thomson, was staring out the window, waiting for the bell to ring and the rest of the students to filter into class, completely oblivious to the drama and tension building up inside the room. The other students were not. I felt eyes turning to me and heard chairs squeaking as bodies shifted in them, anxious for a fight.
I wasn't going to give them one. That wasn't my desire anymore. Slowly I began, cautious of Josh's stormy face and excitable temper. "I don't want to start something with you, Josh, I just want to talk."
Josh's eyes narrowed. "I have nothing to say to you."
I sighed. "Come on, stop this already. You made me look stupid, alright. You got me f**ked up and almost kicked out of here." I lifted my shoulders and hands in an exasperated expression. "Isn't that enough?"
He stood by his desk and I felt the tension in the room triple. He was shorter than me, by a lot, but his confidence that he could kick my ass was evident in every move he made. His lips twisted into a small grin. "I don't know what you're talking about, Luc." He eyed me up and down contemptuously. "You made your own bad choices... like always."
I closed my eyes at the clear insinuation of that night. "Josh, we used to be friends. Come on, man..."
I opened my eyes as fingertips pushed me back. Josh's face looked even stormier. "I used to be a lot of things, Luc." His voice rose and he took a step towards me, until we were toe to toe. "A brother...a best friend." His finger jabbed me harshly in the chest and his voice went even higher. "You took all of that away from me! You! So don't give me the 'come on' crap!"
At this point, Mr. Thomson roused from his near trance, finally noticing that a storm was brewing in his room. He stood up and quickly raced over to Josh and me. I was so twisted with emotion over Josh's words that I hadn't backed away from him and Mr. Thomson had to use his arms to literally wedge us apart. We both looked over to his annoyed face when he spoke. "Enough! Break it off or you'll both get detention!" He pushed me away from where I was still standing in a dazed funk. "Sit down, Lucas!" He turned me and shoved me towards my desk. Stumbling a bit, I finally started moving on my own. I heard him turn around and bark at Josh, "You too!"
The bell rang, right as I sat down, and with a quick glance at a glaring Josh, I turned my attention back to Mr. Thomson, his eyes narrowed and flicking between the two of us. "There will be no fighting in my classroom! Understand!"
I reluctantly nodded and looked over at Josh who was doing the same. The tension in the air started to dissolve and a few students around me let out held breaths. A few snickered and a couple started placing odds on an after school knockout. From what I could make out, the odds were not in my favor. I clenched my jaw and tried to let my body relax. I don't know why I'd even tried that. There was no reasoning with Josh, not with how much he hated me.
Closing my eyes, I listened to Mr. Thomson start class and focused only on relaxing and breathing. I'd tried. I'd tried to let go of my own anger and salvage some of Josh and I's friendship. But I'd failed. I'd failed, and now I had to let him go. I wouldn't try talking to him again. I'd just have to ignore any more attempts he made to engage me. In fact, I'd just ignore any detrimental thing that he did to me. Even if he did somehow manage to kick my ass, all he would get from me was silent acceptance.
Because, while I may not agree with Josh's methods, I did sort of understand his anger; I'd be angry too, if I thought Josh had gotten drunk and killed them all. That would tear me inside, and I'd probably never forgive him either. And while I don't think I'd ever go to Josh's extremes...I hated myself enough that I could sympathize with Josh wanting to destroy me.
The rest of class went by with the traditional stares and whispers. For the first half of class, there were some odd tension-filled glances among the students in the space between Josh and me. They seemed to believe that we were going to launch at each other right in the middle of Mr. Thomson's speech on the mysteries of black holes. I kept my head straight and focused on listening to the teacher and eventually people started to relax, realizing nothing was going to happen.
I tried to focus on the teacher, but all I heard in my ears was Josh's searing words, 'You took all of that away from me! You!' I knew he was right. I knew that no matter if I was drunk or not, he was right. I was the one driving that night. I had done it...me, and Darren was gone because of it. Josh would never see past that and whatever semblance of friendship we had, was gone. I sighed as I thought of how disappointed Darren would be about that. I'm sure he'd prefer it if Josh and I had bonded even tighter over his death, leaning on each other for support and comfort. But this was no Disney movie, and what Josh wanted from me wasn't comfort - he wanted vengeance.
It saddened me to let that friendship go, he really was all I had left of Darren, but I couldn't hold onto someone who didn't want me, someone who actively hated me. My letting him go, would be the best solution for both of us. It would be hard to let his anger and torments slide away from me without reacting, but even with all he'd done so far, I hadn't hit him yet, and really, I think him drugging me was the worst he could do. I'd just have to be more careful with my stuff around him...or his helpers.
With a nasty glare at me after class, Josh was forcefully dragged out of the room by Randy, who looked at me with an odd, almost apologetic face. I had no idea why. Surely he'd been more than happy to carry out Josh's orders and spike my water. It's not like he'd been warm towards me at all this year.
By the time I shuffled out the door, both of them were gone and I breathed in deeply, letting the crispness in the air clear my thoughts. I walked with my head down and concentrated on placing one foot in front of the other; that was enough to concentrate on for now. I heard a vague cacophony of whispers as I walked along and felt more than a few eyes, but I did my best to not worry about them. One more class and I'd be able to see Sawyer again and then this feeling of discord would lift from me.
I walked into art class and immediately smiled as Mrs. Solheim turned at my entrance and exclaimed, "Welcome back, Tom!" I shook my head and made my way to my seat, not feeling the need to correct her. I grinned as I thought that maybe I'd just change my name and be this elusive 'Tom' from now on. A small chuckle escaped me when I realized how my name would fit in so nicely with Sawyer's. We were connected on so many surprising levels.
A couple of intensely working students looked up at me upon hearing my laughter. They blinked and seemed surprised to see my seat occupied, and then went back to whatever they were working on. I smiled softly and let the sounds of busy people relax my mood. Light scratches on paper, the faint smell of oil paints and the gentle murmurings of Mrs. Solheim as she walked throughout the room, checking the student's progress, eased the tension of the last class away from me. I took a deep breath and prepared to work on my latest version of my saving grace, Sawyer.
Mrs. Solheim never commented on the fact that all of my subjects, in whatever medium she was teaching us, were all a dark haired girl with pale gray eyes. I wasn't even sure she had made the connection, as she was more interested in nurturing our techniques than what we chose to paint. Art was the one class that I hadn't had any real homework in for Sawyer to collect - which was a good thing, since I'd have been really embarrassed handing Sawyer pieces of her own image to turn in for me, and nothing else moved me enough to paint it. The teacher had only told Sawyer that I could work on one project while I was gone, and hand it in when I got back.
I dug through my backpack until I found the charcoal sketched version of her that I had created during my hiatus. I unfolded the paper and stretched it out on my easel to make some finishing touches before I turned it in. It was my favorite piece of her, maybe because of the style, or maybe because I'd had so much time to work on it. During my more lucid moments, I'd spent hours going over the tiny details of her face, details I loved: the delicate bridge of her nose, the tiny freckle right beside her left eye, the one dimple in her cheek that she'd only get when she was giving me a wry half-smile, the look in her eye when I knew she was worrying about me, the way her upper lip formed the perfect, double arch of a heart...
A face leaning down next to me startled me from my work and I glanced over at the teacher leaning in, inspecting my drawing. "Is this what you did while you were gone, Tom?"
"Yes...and it's Lucas, Mrs. Solheim." I really shouldn't let her call me the wrong name forever, as nice as the alter-ego was.
She glanced at me and frowned a bit as she looked over my features. "Oh, right, of course." She looked over my drawing again and sighed, a smile coming to her lips. "It's a beautiful piece, Lucas. Your strokes are delicate and intricate, quite an accomplishment with charcoal. You really are quite talented." She straightened and patted my shoulder. "I can see you put a lot of work into this. It's very good. Nice job, Tom...Lucas."
I grinned ear to ear as she walked away, happy that my picture had pleased her. I stared at Sawyer's face for long moments, almost sorry to let go of it. Oh well, I'd get it back soon and I did need the grade. I sighed and wrote my name on the back, mentally preparing myself to let yet another thing I cared about go.
I exhaled a happy sigh when school finally let out for the day. I'd done it. I'd survived what was essentially another first day of school. It had been emotional and embarrassing, frustrating and definitely difficult, but now it was over and none of that mattered. Now I got to see Sawyer, and that was enough to put a spring in my step as I exited the classroom.
I stumbled on that step as I saw Sawyer in what looked like a heated conversation outside of the choir room. She appeared to be having intense words with...Brittany. I hastily made my way across the space between the two buildings, hoping I could stop whatever they were arguing about.
Brittany was surrounded by her legion of followers, most girls I'd known for years and hung out with on several occasions. They noticed me coming and patted Brittany on the shoulder. She broke off on her comment to Sawyer and looked up at me, her brown eyes narrowing. Her shoulders straightened and she swept her almost-blonde hair back over her shoulder. Her face twisted into a cruel sneer and I wondered how I'd ever found her attractive.
She took a step toward me, casually shoving Sawyer's shoulder back with her other. Sawyer's eyes flicked to mine and her jaw clenched, her fists in tight balls. She looked like she wanted to slug Brittany, although her eyes looked like she wanted to start sobbing. My heart seized at the hurt I saw in her face and I hoped whatever had started this...hadn't been because of me. She suffered enough because of me.
Brittany took a step up to me, her sneer turning to a knowing smirk. "Back for more, Lucas? I've already told you 'no' a dozen times. You really need to get over me." Her voice dropped seductively and I got the feeling that that really wasn't what she was saying at all. I got the feeling that if I secretly told her to meet me in my bedroom tonight...she would.