My Eyes On You

Hurt

Leah tried to think of an excuse, but could find none, so she reluctantly agreed.She was preoccupied the whole time. When she arrived home, the skies outside were dark and her parents were in the living room watching television.

Without greeting them, she went straight to her room and locked the door. After she turned on the light, she closed her shades and curled up on the bed.She stared at her half-open closet. The g*n was in there. When would she muster the courage to use it? She sighed, stretched her arms and yawned.

She was tired from walking all over the mall.Soon, she told herself. It just has to be at the perfect time, that’s all. Before she knew it, as she rested her head against the soft, fluffy pillows,she was fast asleep in her clothes.

She found herself alone with him the next day. Neither of them had done their homework, and so both of them had been sent out into the hall while the teacher went over the answers in class.

They sat in silence for several long moments. “Did you get my messages?” she breathed suddenly. Her voice came out weak and scared. She wasn‟t supposed to be the one who was scared.

He looked taller than usual standing right next to her and more languid, relaxed. His dark hair accentuated his

good looks. The effect gave off a sexiness that took Leah

aback.

“I don‟t know what you‟re talking about,” he said. Preoccupied by the scent of his cologne, Leah mustered

together her courage and stood up straighter. “I think you know.” It was supposed to sound threatening. This didn‟t sound threatening.

Leah pressed her eyes closed, feeling the tingle of nerves all throughout her body. She hated this boy; she knew that now. She didn‟t like him. She

could never like this rotten piece of filth.

“I don‟t know.”

“I think you do.” Two girls came walking by. They

said hello to Brendan. Leah was sitting next to him. Her voice caught in her throat as she watched them chat briefly. Brendan was a popular guy. He had a lot of friends. Even still, Leah felt rather stunned as she sat there, stewing in her own silence.

When they left, she turned to him. “The messages—“ she said, her cheeks beginning to burn. “I slipped them in your locker.”

Understanding lit his face. Jovially, he said, “That

was you?”

Leah could have gnashed her teeth. It was like a slap to the face. So, he didn‟t take her seriously. Well, hewould.

“Yeah,” she said quietly.

He smiled. “Well, I‟m glad I finally know.” Up close, he was even more handsome and athletic looking than he was from a distance. He was a football player, already on Varsity even though he was a freshman. Leah felt small and insignificant next to his tall, muscular frame.

“You hurt me,” she said bravely.

He looked up in surprise. “How did I hurt you?” he asked.

She searched for the right words. His voice had come out almost tenderly—but gruff at the same time. “I started smoking pot because of you,” she lied.

“Oh, you smoke pot?” he said. “So do I.”

She bit her lip. Emotions were coursing through her, and yet nothing she could say seemed to come out right.

All she could do was stare at him through her big eyes and wait until the teacher called them back inside. She had just missed her opportunity. That night she pulled out her journal and called him. He answered on the second ring.

Despite her anger, they had a long, satisfying conversation. Brendan was hopelessly willing to talk. Leah noted, with surprise, how easy it was to talk with this most unlikely partner in conversation.

“Who did you think it was?” she asked.

“Several people,” he said. “It could have been any of a number of people who don‟t like me.” At the end, he suggested that they don‟t say hello to each other in the halls.

. He said it was crazy how many people he already did that with.

It was a joke. Leah could have taken it that way.

But as she put her head to her pillow that night, it bothered her.

She stewed in her anger once more. She cried in her room that she had missed her opportunity to take revenge

against the evil Brendan Caldwell.She wrote a furious account of her hatred for him and his friends, fraught with bad adjectives, and brought it with her to school.

It was another cold day. The leaves were turning brown and the smell of wood fires permeated the air as they

made the bus trip to Early Winter High School.

Leah was wearing her usual caked-on mascara, heavy foundation and dark lipstick.

Her friends circled her outside on the sidewalk during lunch, their lunches spread out around them. When Christie and Mona stood up to leave, Leah turned to Hope.

“I need to talk to Brendan,” she said.

“Brendan Caldwell? So go and talk to him.”

“No.” She shook her head. “I can‟t. I‟m afraid.

You go. Go and fetch him for me.”

Hope gave her a strange look. “Well, alright. I‟ll be back in a minute.”

Brendan came ambling in her direction a few minutes later. Leah was breathing heavily. She felt dizzy and light-headed.

She thought she was going to have a panic attack; but then the memory of her anger enabled her to retain her calm.

She showed him what she had written. She watched as his face fell.