Author: Raven's Hymn PM
Part 3 of 3: It all began when 2 girls, unalike in many ways, cross paths. History and present collide as a web of deceit and betrayal begins to unravel as the fate of many is put into the hands of one person who can save them all, but at a price.Rated: Fiction T - English - Spiritual/Suspense - Chapters: 35 - Words: 99,244 - Reviews: 1 - Favs: 2 - Follows: 1 - Updated: 08-13-12 - Published: 09-09-11 - Status: Complete - id: 2950826
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
"C'mon baby, don't be like that."
I close the door of my locker. Well, slam is more accurate. I silently chastise myself for letting my emotions cause me to react this way. I just hate that someone like Mason has this kind of power over me. He always irritates me, and I almost always respond to it, which is exactly what he wants. Well, I'm not going to let him get off that easy.
"First of all, I'm not your baby. Second of all, there is no way, in this or any lifetime, that I am ever going to have anything to do with you, so just get lost."
I'm ready to get to my next class, but he doesn't make any sign of moving, he just stands there like he owns the world. It doesn't take a genius to know that he's not going anywhere.
"C'mon, we both know that's not true. Why don't we just-"
"As if I would ever waste my time on you."
I try to get past him again, but this time he steps closer, placing his hands on the lockers behind me. There is no use: he is taller, bigger, and a whole lot stronger than me. I'm trapped, with virtually no chance of escape.
He leans in closer, close enough for me to feel his rancid breath on my face.
"Let's just pretend this never happened and you just-"
Something seems to distract him before he can finish. He looks over his shoulder and removes his hands from the lockers, setting me free. I don't leave, even though he isn't paying any attention to me anymore. Someone has actually stopped Mason, the biggest you-know-what of the entire school, not to mention a wannabe player, from his daily harassment of me. From past experience, I know that no one besides an administrator has that kind of power. Until now.
"Got a problem, St. John?"
I look over Mason's shoulder to see her. Her name is Jamie St. John, a junior that just moved here three weeks ago. Today her short reddish-brown hair that always makes it look like she just rolled out of bed is messier than usual. She has on the same black eyeliner I always see her with, the only makeup she ever seems to wear. It always makes the fire in her hazel eyes that much more intense.
She put her hands up in a motion of surrender, obviously not wanting to fight. Mason, on the other hand, is a completely different story. It almost seems as if he is always ready for two things: one is a brawl, the other needs no mention, and not even in that particular order. Even though Jamie is a girl, that doesn't seem to matter to Mason.
He steps forward while Jamie steps back. That's when I noticed that she is wearing a faded green jacket, covering most of her body and the sleeves reaching to the tips of her fingers. Her eyes are on Mason, waiting for his next move.
"Hope you have a good reason for the interruption," Mason says, "because you're going to need it."
With that he swings his fist at Jamie's face. With just a few steps back, she barely manages to miss getting a black eye. From where I stand, Mason doesn't look too happy about missing a hit, let alone missing a hit to a girl, so he swings once more, with the exact same result. By now his face is starting to turn red, veins start popping out, and I can almost see steam coming from his ears. Mason is never easy to predict when he gets this way.
Already a crowd is forming, wanting to catch a glimpse of what looked to be a promising fight.
Fear for Jamie's safety sends my legs running. In almost no time at all I run into Mr. Grey, my English teacher.
"Whoa, where's the fire?"
"There's a fight," I manage to answer. "Mason is-."
"Say no more. Lead the way."
I rush over to where the fight had begun, where only minutes before I was pinned against my locker. I don't even look behind me to see if Mr. Grey is still following me.
Already the crowd has multiplied, hundreds of students surrounding Jamie and Mason like an audience to a play. Thankfully Mr. Grey is only a few seconds behind me. He uses his authority as a teacher to cause the crowd to disperse, with me close behind. Already I fear we are too late and Jamie is hurt. As more and more students walk away I managed to catch glimpses of what is happening in the eyes of the storm. Punches are thrown, curses are uttered, and chants are called for blood.
Then Mr. Grey stops in his tracks. I know from where I am standing that he has a good view of the action. I'm immediately at his side, dreading what he had just witnessed. It's pretty obvious that Mr. Grey saw something bad, and whatever it was is exactly what I'm afraid would happen.
"Pierce, come with me right now. Harris, take St. John to the nurse immediately."
Mr. Grey only uses last names when he's angry, which is a rarity. I watch as he takes Mason, obviously in pain, and half drags his hulking mass away. Whatever happened to him, he obviously deserved every second of it.
When I get to Jamie, she's on the floor, leaning against the lockers with a bruise on her cheek and a bleeding lip. I help her get up and lead her through the crowd of disappointed onlookers to the nurse's office. In no time at all, the nurse examines her injuries and deems them non-severe. I stay with Jamie as she's cleaned up, just to make sure she's ok. Afterwards Mr. Grey leads us both to the principal's office. Mason is there, still in pain.
"You're parents have already been called and will be here shortly," says Mr. Grey.
That sends me back to reality. I can easily say that I'm close to mortified to have my mother come here. She's not exactly the typical good parental figure right now. I can just see my mother lying on the couch, crying into a pillow because of what happened years ago.
She never told me why my father left us; every time I asked she either cries or changes the subject, so I just stopped asking. All I remember about that day was coming home after school with my mother in tears and everything that belonged to my father was gone.
My mother is the first to arrive, her sunglasses hiding her tear-stained eyes. Twenty minutes later a wealthy-looking couple comes inside. The man looks crisp and business-like in a suit, if not a bit irritated, possibly because he had to leave a very important meeting. The woman is dressed in some kind of country club outfit that had to have cost more than my mother's car. Not to mention that it is pretty obvious she's had work done, and not just on her face.
I know it has to be Mason's parents because he constantly lords his family's wealth over everyone to make him seem powerful and untouchable. Like he has any power in the first place.
I watch as his mother almost immediately goes over to her son, but I can't tell her emotions through all the Botox.
"My poor baby!" she weeps. "My poor little sweetheart. Who could have done such a horrible thing to you?"
I am in total shock. I can't believe she treats him like a child instead of the giant meat-head that he really is. I wonder if she even knows how her son acts when her back is turned.
Just then a man comes in. He seems pretty intimidating, like someone from one of those crime dramas Mom watches when she's not crying. He flashes a police badge to the adults in the room.
What is a cop doing here? I don't see how any of this warrants an arrest.
Mr. Pierce immediately goes over to him.
"It's a good thing you're here, Officer. My son has just been assaulted by this" motioning towards Jamie, "crazed banshee and I want justice done. Personally, if there is a chance that you could-"
Before he can finish the principal comes in. He greets everyone and seems to save the officer for last.
"Thank you for coming, Detective St. John. I know how difficult it is adjusting to a new city, especially with the kind of work you do. I hope calling you here wasn't an inconvenience."
"Not at all. My case load is pretty light at the moment, so it wasn't that difficult to leave."
Detective St. John looks past the stunned Pierce family and settles his gaze directly on Mason.
"You must be Mason. Jamie's told me so much about you."
Mason hangs his head, most likely because of shame and embarrassment over whatever Jamie could have told her father about him. It's a pretty safe bet that none of it is good.
Mr. Grey is still in the room with us and explains everything from when I told him about the fight up to what he witnessed. Afterwards the principal asks Jamie, Mason and I what our sides of the story are. I tell them what happened to me while Jamie tells them that she tapped Mason on the shoulder to try and reason with him since it was obvious that I wasn't interested in his advances. She went on to explain that he kept missing shots at her, and in a fit of rage he pushed her against the lockers and landed a fist on her face. She then said that when he was about to hit her again, she, in self-defense, she landed a kick to a very sensitive part of Mason's anatomy. When she finished talking, there is insurmountable evidence against him, and Mason, clearly defeated, has nothing to do but tell the truth.
During the whole interview, all I can think about is Jamie, and how I haven't even spoken a word to her the whole time she's been here, and she just came to my defense like it was nothing. Every time I look at her, she seems to be writing in a black notebook, only looking up when she is asked a question or to give her testimony. By the time the whole story is out, and all that needs to be settled is Mason's punishment, I look over at Jamie again. She has stopped writing and is now looking at me.
That is the first time I really notice her. She doesn't look as strange as everyone else thinks she is, she just seem different than the rest of us, but in a good way. Her eyes still have that fire, as if she is being burned from the inside. Where it came from I don't know, and that's probably what draws me to her.
She lifts her notebook so that I could see what she was working on: a drawing of a bunny. I would never have guessed in a million years that she is an artist, let alone can draw a rabbit so well. I smile at this twist in my perception, one that she returns. Just when I think I have her all figured out, she goes and surprises me.
In that moment I know that we're not strangers anymore.