When Trouble Meets Trouble

Chapter 2

“Run!” the word escaped my mouth without a trace of hesitation. I looked back to see Shaw chasing after us with two other football players on our heels.

“I’m not stupid!” Jonah snapped back, his grip on my arm digging into my skin so hard that it hurt.

“I beg to differ!” I retorted, trying to keep up with the guy. If it isn’t obvious, I’m not physically fit. This guy, on the other hand, was like an Olympic runner or a zombie from Dawn of the Dead, same thing.

“You’re the one that told him what I said!” Jonah told me, looking back over his shoulder as the loud footsteps came closer.

“You’re the one who started dragging me! I wouldn’t be in this mess if it weren’t for you!” I ranted, becoming winded.

We halted to a stop, or at least Jonah did and I came smashing into his hard back. I peeked out from behind him to see a football player nearing us with a malicious grin on his face. When he saw me, his eyebrows raised.

“Savannah Harp?” he asked, shock clear in his voice. The football players may or may not like me. I’m leaning towards the latter. It all goes back to a prank I pulled on them when I first earned my reputation, which was around mid-sophomore year. I put itching powder all over their new uniforms right before a big game. I put dish soap in their water coolers and I put freshly chewed gum in their helmets. We lost that game.

“The one and only,” I replied sheepishly. His glare deepened while his pace quickened. “Hey, look! Free footballs!” I shouted, pointing over his shoulder.

Surprisingly, he looked and I pushed Jonah to run into the corridor to the right of us. The hallway was dark and it was used for music classrooms and storing unused instruments. I heard the jock swear and start after us into the pitch black hallway.

“In here!” I hissed, yanking Jonah, whose hand was still locked around my wrist, into a large supply closet. I quietly closed the door.

My lungs were on fire and so were my legs. I walked towards the corner of the room and leaned over, my hands on my knees. “You’re such an i***t!” I hissed once I heard the three jock’s footsteps pass by.

“Me? How?” he replied instantly. It was like he was expecting it.

“You’re the one who wants to grab onto me and go all Speedy Gonzales off into the hallways. I don’t run!” I exclaimed, swinging my hand at my last sentence even though he couldn’t see me.

“How should I know that?” he hissed.

“Exactly, you shouldn’t know that, now shove off before you get me into even more trouble,” I snapped, ready to leave the closet.

When my hand reached for the door, I was yanked back. “Get off of me, you creep!” I started to shout.

“Shut up!” he hissed, placing his large hand over my mouth. I was going to go as far as to bite his palm and kick him where no boy should be kicked until I heard footsteps.

“They’re not there?” Shaw’s voice entered my hearing and I instantly cringed, pushing Jonah’s hand away from my face.

“No, we checked every classroom,” a winded voice replied. How did a football player get winded from running a 60 foot hallway?

“Somebody needs to shed a few pounds,” I whispered to no one in particular as we listened to them. Jonah snorted but shushed me.

“Did you check the supply closets?” Shaw responded, obviously he was annoyed. The guys stayed quiet for a minute. “How did you guys not check the supply closets?”

“They’re probably in there making out!” a new voice proposed; he sounded disgusted.

“Never going to happen,” I snapped with a shake of my head.

“I don’t care, go check!” Shaw demanded. I heard footsteps nearing the door we were leaning against.

I began to panic, turning to see Jonah doing the same thing I was. The outline of his body was looking frantically for a hiding spot. I felt around on the floor until I met a stray trombone; I stuffed it under the door handle before diving behind a few boxes.

Jonah squeezed into the spot beside me, too close for my liking. I didn’t complain though. I’d like him to be alive when he faces my wrath. “It’s locked," one of the voices informed him.

“Locked?” Shaw was now storming over to the door and shaking the floor that his feet touched. “Try harder!” he demanded.

“How is he going to try harder to unlock a locked door?” I whispered. Shaw’s stupidity shocked me.

“Shut up,” Jonah hissed, pushing me up against the wall with his arm. I smacked into the wall arm first and Jonah snickered quietly. “Sorry.”

He didn’t sound a bit sorry. “I’ll give away your spot. They can’t hit a girl.”

“It doesn’t mean they won’t," he snorted.

“I’ll just hide under your dead body,” I whispered while they jiggled the doorknob violently. I was just counting the moments until they opened the door, ripped our bodies from behind these boxes, and beat us to a b****y pulp.

“n*********a is sick, Savannah," Jonah whispered.

“You’re sick," was my amazing reply.

The instrument fell and the door cracked open. A shimmer of light peeked in and I realized somebody either had a flashlight or a cell phone. My thoughts were confirmed when a shiny iPhone was pushed into the room followed by three large bodies. I almost let out a whimper but I held it back.

“I don’t see them, Jeff,” somebody announced turning back.

“Are you sure? What about behind those boxes?” Shaw snapped and the guys made a weird nose.

“There are spiders behind there!" an i***t informed him. The thought occurred to me and I shifted towards Jonah a bit but then realized my actions and moved back.

“You guys are such wimps, get out,” Shaw demanded. They did as they were told, exiting the room. “Go check the other closets.”

Again, they followed his command while he walked over to the boxes we were tucked behind. He kneeled down and removed the box near my face. When he saw me, he smirked. “Where’s your little boyfriend?” I quickly jutted out my hand in the form of a fist and it came in contact with his face; a sickening c***k and a groan sounded from the boy while I pushed Jonah who was watching in complete shock.

“Go!” I shouted, pushing him out of the closet. A light flashed behind us and I growled. “Saltines. Saltines. Saltines," I improvised for swear words.

“You just punched a guy in the face, yet you don’t swear?” Jonah asked, his voice was one of astonishment.

“Yes. Just go!” I told him, pushing his back as I ran behind him. The footsteps neared us and I let out a sound that I make when I leave a dark room. Why did I have to leave lunch fifteen minutes early? Why couldn't I sit outside at the stupid picnic table with this i***t beside me? Why am I so easily offended by stupid insults yet I dish them out like a diner? Saltines, saltines, salt-fudging-tines

We arrived at the end of the hallway, the option of stairs or the elevator greeting us. We could either hobble up the dark steps or wait a good 25 seconds for the elevator to meet us. I quickly started pressing the elevator button.

“What are you doing? The stairs are right here!” Jonah hissed into the darkness.

“Those stairs haven’t been used in ages! There could be a dead body in there!” I told him, watching as the elevator left the top floor and made it to the second, then the first, and finally the basement. The doors opened and Jonah and I jumped into the enclosed space, rapidly pressing the "close doors" button.

The light from the elevator illuminated the hallway, which revealed the football players running full speed like bulls towards the elevator. They were 20 feet away. I started pressing the "close doors" button even harder. “Come on!” I screeched at the buttons.

They were about 10 feet away and the doors were slowly closing. I grabbed a textbook that was lying lifelessly in the corner of the elevator and tossed it at one of them, hitting one of them in the foot. He toppled over, followed by the other football player. Strike!