Gabriel Black maneuvers
quickly, keeping to the school walls like a rat trying to escape before he’s
cornered. The memorization of the school’s alcoves, the bell timing between
periods, avoiding the halls and stairwells that carry the most traffic are more
than a way for an introvert to avoid people—they're survival tactics. He
perfected the system to protect his personal space from being violated. Bumping
into another person is a mistake his mind can’t afford, no matter what his body
craves from such a clash. They will obsess over him if they’re too close for
too long. They will lust after him if their shoulder grazes his. It doesn’t
matter if they’re a boy or a girl—the monster inside has no preference.
Gabriel must take
every precaution to keep from being noticed. Yet, his notorious black Ramones
hoodie is just about all that people recognize. It helps to cover his black
hair and obscure his face. There isn't a day where he's not wearing it.
Blending into the background as a dark, blurry nobody in high school is not what
a typical teenager wants to be remembered as.
Gabriel isn’t
typical.
He has no choice
but to bear the labels given to him and try to stay invisible or he’ll ruin
someone's life.
He sits in the
last row in homeroom just as he does in every class. He’s the first to enter
the room and the last to leave when the bell rings. The hallway is a
battleground of fleshy mines. Like a soldier, he must try to make it to the
safety of the recess beside the water fountain before his body collides with
another. Sometimes a quick overlapping of his personal space and another
student is realized, but the classmates that feel his aura by accident, don’t
see him. He swiftly disappears before an impression is made.
He takes the long
route to study hall, making a quick stop at the boy’s bathroom where the last
stall’s removable ceiling tiles keep some of his textbooks and supplies. His
locker is unfortunately located in one of the main arteries of the school.
Stashes like this are a preventative measure—no one's usually around.
The boy washing
his hands doesn’t give him a second look and leaves quickly. No boy wants to be
in the bathroom alone with the Ramones guy.
Gabriel’s the
last to arrive in study hall. With his hands in his pockets and his hood up, he
doesn’t look at anyone and sits in the back of class. There’s no one to worry
about in back of him. He only has to worry about the other sides and how close
they are to his vicinity. His acute awareness of his surroundings is as natural
as breathing.
A slightly warming
sensation heats his right arm, warning him—the kid next to him is a little too
close. Gabriel slowly uses his feet to inconspicuously move the desk a few more
inches back until the warmth leaves his skin.
The second bell
rings and his hood falls back before Mr. Hopkins mentions it. He can never
shake the anxious feeling of being unveiled like a museum exhibit, but he keeps
his head low to avoid eye contact.
His textbook and
homework are out. First period study hall is the only time to do it. If he
doesn’t do it now then it will never get done. He reaches into his backpack for
a pen and takes one from his supply of unopened pen boxes. He’s overly prepared
because getting caught without a pen or textbook means he will have to borrow
from someone else, or worse—he’d have to share. Going over one textbook between
two students is like breathing one another’s breath before a kiss. It
overwhelms the senses where the lesson doesn’t matter. For the other student, curiosity
about Gabriel peaks. He doesn’t need that kind of attention. Being inches away
from another is like teasing a starved vampire with a bleeding virgin. Touching
will only lead to sinful actions. After class is over, an obscure area of the
school would be occupied with perversions, Gabriel himself couldn’t foresee
performing, but the monster inside hungers for it when it's prodded. Bodily
cravings do not seize until quenched.
Once he didn't
have a pen—fingers grazed—never again.
“Hey, Ramones!”
Gabriel’s green
eyes lift off his paper and look up to the girl sitting in front of him. Her
blue eye stare and she’s actually smiling.
Mr. Hopkins is
grading papers and doesn’t pay any mind. Gabriel sets his eyes back down.
“You have a pen I
can borrow?”
Without looking
at her he reaches into his backpack and pulls out a pen and hands it to her,
but he lets the pen drop to the floor before her fingers invade the thin space
between them. He doesn’t have to look at her to know what it looks like.
Gabriel isn’t trying to be an asshole. He has no choice but to play the part.
Sorry. The simple word would Band-Aid the situation if he can only say it out
loud, but that would mean he’ll have to talk to her. He’s not in the mood to
start conversations that will draw attention. Making friends is impossible, so
why would he even try.
She grabs the pen
off the floor. “Um...thanks.” It sounds like her pretty smile is gone, but
Gabriel doesn’t lift his eyes to confirm it.
Another glare
prods him, taking his attention from the work that will pass the time in this
God forsaken school. His eyes lift to see one of the infamous bullying goons
that made a name for himself by ritualizing beating up of an individual target
for a week. Gabriel has been under the radar for years, but now a drop of a pen
has ensured an impending beat-down.
Fuck.
Gabriel mouth
dries as Eric Anderson inauspicious smile curls. His followers turn in their
seats to witness the stunned face of their next victim. Gabriel doesn’t give
them the pleasure and leaves his stoic mask unchanged.
The clock on the
wall confirms the elongated torture of the apprehensive atmosphere. Homework
will have to wait. Planning to leave this school will prove to be most
challenging. He’s witnessed Anderson and his crew parading the halls with their
victim, carrying him off to God-knows-where to do God-knows-what. The idea of a
group of boys setting him off makes him perspire. Being the center of attention,
even for this moment, is causing his heart to race.
He habitually
places his hood on his head. He will keep it on as long as Mr. Hopkins doesn’t
notice.
The bell finally
rings and the plan is in place.
Anderson’s
minions rise from their desks slowly waiting for Eric’s signal.
Gabriel shoulders
his backpack. The others move into position as he rises from his desk.
“Mr. Hopkins?”
Gabriel hates being a pussy, but asking for a teachers help is the only option
here. The band of assholes has him cornered.
“What is it Mr.
Black?” Gabriel makes his way past the sneering teeth and fuming eyes.
He makes eye
contact with Mr. Hopkins. The man just stares, as the gang gets closer.
“You have two
minutes Mr. Black. I suggest you speak before you’re late for your next class.
I’m not signing a late slip.”
He hears them
approaching from behind. If they leave the room and wait for him, he’ll be
caught outside.
"Well?"
Mr. Hopkins brows lift.
Gabriel darts out
the door and into the crowded halls. The clamor of desks and chairs behind him
pumps fear into his veins. Grazing shoulders and knocking over students, sets
his craving on high.
His hood peels
back. Eric and the others are laughing. Everyone in the hall is looking at him.
“Where are you
going, Ramones?”
“Do you ever wear
anything else?”
“Yo! Get that
kid!”
The halls are thinning;
a sign that the second bell is about to ring.
He turns a corner
and hides in a janitor's closet, he once used for fornicating.
The bell rings
and screeching sneakers stop at the door. Gabriel holds the handle. One of the
bullies rattles the doorknob, sending their energy trickling up Gabriel's arm
like an electrical current.
“Emo boy! I know
you’re in there.” One of them kicks the door. “Come out and take it like the
faggot you are.”
The handle
rattles and his grip tightens. He can’t let them in for their sake.
One of the
teachers voices calls out their names. The shadows under the door leave except
one.
“I’ll get you
asshole. I’ll make you eat every single one of those psycho pills If I see your
face again. You hear me?”
Eric’s shadow
leaves and another approaches with clacking heels.
“Mr. Anderson,
get back here!”
The female
knocks.
“Hello? Who’s in
there?” Gabriel lets go before he feels her energy. The door opens.
Light blinds him
and a female figure stands before him.
Gabriel scurries
away from the door, his back knocks into the shelves behind him, sending
bathroom paper tumbling beside him. The teacher’s face stares down at him.
Gabriel’s hands are shaking and his eyes are watering. What does it look like to her? He places his hood on. Don’t look at me.
“It’s okay. You can come out now, Mr. Black.”
