Hellcat

Chapter 3

Wilder Sanchez

"How was that?" I ask when we have exited the cafeteria. 

"Perfect, " Josh grins. 

"So tell me why you made me rude to my community service partner?" I ask. 

"He ditched me this morning. This was just a little something I like to call payback."

I laugh. "You are so petty."

"But you love me for it, " he chuckles. 

"You wish, " I snort.

He makes an arrow with his fingers and points it at his chest. "You got me right here." 

"Should I take you to the nurses' office?" My mock concern could grow to genuine if I spend more time with this boy. There is something about him that makes me want to protect him from the world even though I'm sure he has seen more unholy things than I have. 

"Your kiss is the only medicine I need."

"Very funny, Bennett. Now come on, we have a class to get to." I laugh humorlessly. 

"Late and fashionable, " he adds.

I disagree.

And so would our art teacher Mr. Hall. Mr. Hall is one of those teachers students can't resist playing pranks on. He's an eccentric balding old goat that everyone calls CB which is short for Cinnamon Bun because much like the Adventure Time character, he is dim-witted and clumsy. There are coffee stains in the color of his wrinkled blue shirt and when we walked into the class he's fumbling around for his glasses. His hearing aide has been turned down so he can't hear the raucous the class is causing. 

Because Josh is such a kind boy and wouldn't rather watch the old man suffer, he helps him find his glasses and subsequently turn to his hearing aid. By the time he has gotten the class to settle, our tardiness has gone unnoticed and Josh and I are perched in front of easels somewhere in the back of the class. 

"I didn't know you had a nice side, " I comment. 

"Honey, I'm all kinds of nice," Josh says, striking a sassy pose. "And anyway I am glad you decided to be my friend."

"I'm only in it for the free food, " I joke because I hate getting even remotely emotional. My feelings are something I would rather not talk about. 

"Right," Josh says, adding four more syllabi to the word. "We're supposed to be making 'balanced harmonic paintings'. What the heck is on your canvas?"

He points a scrutinizing paintbrush at my easel.

"That, " I pause dramatically. "Is my painting."

"It looks more like a blob of paint."

"It is a blob of paint."

"Are you trying to fail this class?"

"Are you trying to lose your eyeballs?" I remove my switchblade from my pocket and point it menacingly at him to show that I'm not kidding. "Because I can make it happen."

"Woah," Josh gasps raising both arms in the air and taking two steps back. "You're dangerous."

"Thank you, " my cheery smile is sarcastic as I return my knife to the depths of my pocket. "And anyway you're one to talk. You have not even started on your painting."

"That's because I need time to think. I need to reflect on my ideas before choosing which one to develop. It's a lengthy process."

"Oh my God, " I giggle, covering my mouth to stop the peals of laughter as my eyes widen in the sudden realization of Josh's problem. 

"What?" He asks innocently. Like I am supposed to believe he doesn't know what is wrong with him. 

"You're shy of me."

"Am not!" He cries sharply. But the brightness of his ear is only confirmed my suspicions. 

"It's okay to be a little shy, Josh," I console in what I hope is a serious-sounding voice. I cannot let my new found bank account friend, find out that I'm laughing at him and not with him. 

"Really?" He widens his eyes, pouting his lips when he asks the question. A closer inspection of those sinful light blue eyes reveals the cunning intent I am becoming familiar with. 

"Nice try, big boy. Show me what you got."

He rolls his eyes. "You're a better detective than I give you credit for."

"You're a worse artist than I expected."

"I haven't even made anything yet. How do you know I'm a crappy artist?"

"You just admitted it, dummy, " I say with an eye roll. 

I never imagined I would find a way to spend Mr. Hall's art class other than sleeping or drawing skulls with hard metal in my ears. But with Josh, I find myself listening to many funny stories. Josh fills me in on the latest gossip. I learn all the nicknames of all the teachers. I also learn some shocking trivia about some of the teachers.

For example, my history teacher Mr. Beier whom we affectionately call Mr. B was the bassist of a rock band called 'Craig And The Metal Humans' in his college days. Josh even shows me a meme of his Mr. Beier as a young adult rocking at a karaoke bar. Mr. Beier's band produced only one album called 'Our Rock Pick Love' a song I immediately added to my favorites playlist. It's hard to imagine that same man teaching me history. Now I will never be him in the same way.

I am surprised to find myself sad when I part ways with Josh after our art class. He promises to meet me in the courtyard after school so that is something to look forward to as I head to my American Literature class. 

It's one of the subjects I hate the most on my schedule and barely ten minutes after walking in, I take a hall pass to use the bathroom. 

I made my way down the empty hallways of Westreet Prep. Heavy boredom weighing on my shoulders from listening to Ms. Verne's lesson even just for a few minutes. I turn a corner, heading to the back exit to have another one of my 'smoke breaks' with the burnouts in the back alley behind the bleachers.

Most of the guys there recognize me, I usually go there around this time to have a smoke and clear my head. It's kind of ironic, I know. But the smoke helps me refocus on my thoughts and organize my mind. 

It's easy to ignore everyone else around me when I light my Camel crush and tuck it between my lips. I'm a regular smoker, but I don't believe I am addicted. I could kick the habit if I wanted to. It's the Molly I'm worried about. Since meeting Josh I haven't felt the need to pop a pill in my mouth but in the semi-darkness of the alley, it's simple for me to slip three pills into my mouth. It only takes a few minutes for the effects to kick in. 

When I return to class, I am careful not to slur my words so the teacher does not become suspicious.

I feel so happy. So free. So lightheaded. I laugh out loud, but there's no one else laughing with me. 

The girl in front of me looks at me wearily. 

And I smile broadly. "Life is amazing, " 

"Weirdo, " she mutters rolling her eyes. 

"You're mean, " it feels like there's water in my ears. "Mean girls don't get pearls." I laugh as if I'm in on a joke no one else understands.

"Whatever, " the girl rolls her eyes and returns her gaze to the front of the class. I try to look at them but all I see are smiling foods.

"Relax Eli," an adorable slice of pizza says, floating towards me.

"You're safe, " a smiling cupcake adds.

"Come to us, " pizza face says, extending a hand that looks like cheese straws. 

"Come, " a lollipop adds. 

"Okay, " my voice is soft, my face in an easy smile as I close my eyes. I feel soft feather-like arms wrap around me and I sigh in content. The clouds are made of marshmallows. The rain is chocolate milk. The grass is licorice.

"I'm in paradise!" I squee delightfully, snatching a piece of cloud from the sky and eating it. 

"No, you're in hell, " a grumpy roast chicken says. 

"You're wrong, " I giggle, tearing his leg off and chomping into it. 

He glares at me, taking chocolate bars from a nearby building and making crutches for himself. 

"You are delicious," I giggle, reaching for more of his body.

"So are you, " he says.

"I'm not food, " I laugh while running down the hill. I didn't even realize I was not on flat ground. The grass is soft and warm. I stop in front of the lake. It's white, like whipped cream, but somehow I see my reflection in it.

"No," I scream, a sense of dread kicking in as I stare at myself. I am a Heinz ketchup bottle. 

A pack of sausages dressed like soldiers suddenly appear all around me. 

Warm pink hands reach for me. I'm screaming and kicking and crying. 

"You'll never get me!" I holler when I have finally managed to defeat half a dozen sausages. I'm running away when I'm stopped by another band of food. This time it's the meatball monsters that are trying to kill me. They even have gummy bear guards.

"Grab her!" A menacing-looking cake sitting on a candy corn throne orders, pointing a spaghetti scepter at me. 

"No!" I squeal, trading and kicking when their hands are all around me. They chain me up. It takes twenty soldiers to carry me into their gingerbread castle. I am placed on a spit and they are spinning me around. 

"Let's eat, " cake king commands. 

I begin crying again, waiting for their teeth to sink into my flesh. I can smell their foul breath as they hover on me. The teeth are getting closer, they're razor-sharp pearly whites.

I'm about to be eaten by food!

I panic, trying to move but they have me bound by the hands and legs. In one final attempt to free myself, I let out a loud, ear-splitting scream. 

"Wake up this instant Ms. Sanchez!" 

I flinch to the present, opening my eyes slowly to see that everyone is staring at me. 

"What?" My voice is hoarse and I clear my throat, repeating my question. "What's going on?" I mumble. 

"You fell asleep, " Ms. Verne says. No hint of kindness in her steel blue eyes or pursed lips.

"I just had the weirdest dream ever, " I say, still trying to get my bearings. "There was a pizza guy and the meatball soldiers were trying to eat me. The king was a giant birthday cake and I was a bottle of ketchup."

"Why don't you see the school nurse?" Ms. Verne has a hint of concern for my mental health in her voice as she cautiously takes a step back as if delirium is contagious. "Gina, why don't you take Ms. Sanchez to the nurse's office?" 

The girl's eyebrows shoot up in obvious disbelief, the idea of escorting a stoner like me down our well-funded too much for her egocentric heart to handle.

My small white hands are all I focus on as the tension rise in the room like a cloud of smoke from one of the failed cooking attempts. 

What a b***h, I want to snort but hold it in because that will earn me detention, and I already community service to deal with after school. 

"Whatever, " she finally says after a lengthy period of time which feels purposefully insulting, as that much thought goes into obeying the person who determines your grades. "I'll take her."

The way she says the last word has my eyes narrowing with the knowledge that this girl plans to more than just take me to the sickbay. There is something very homicidal about a six-foot-tall dark-skinned girl with a half-shaved head. The hair that remains on her head is tightly curled and adds a softness to her otherwise rough exterior. But I will not be fooled. 

Two minutes later we are alone in the hallways, I am hobbling behind her like the rabbit with short legs I am and she storming ahead as if trying to avoid me. 

"Could you slow down a bit?" I wheeze, not used to such brisk-walking despite the numerous physical education classes I've missed. Shocker. 

She whips her head around quickly to glare at me. "Shut up," her voice is snappier than I expected. 

"Just slow-"

One minute I'm trying to catch up with a walking female skyscraper and the next the said building has me slammed into the cold metal of the lockers as she curls her hand tightly around my neck. 

I am grateful for all the boxing lessons I used to have with my older brother Lucas when I was a kid. They really come in handy when I raise my leg and bring it down on her foot.

She hisses, holding her foot and hopping around like a wounded hare as she seethes and glowers at me. "What the f**k?" She hisses.

"I don't like being threatened." My words are clipped and frigid. I wipe an invisible speck of dust from the front of my hoodie and with one final glare at her, wordlessly saunter away. 

Nurse Byrne and I go way back to freshman year when one of the popular crowd slammed a volleyball into my face during practice. That is probably one of the reasons I avoid all of my physical education classes as if spending just a few seconds in them will cause all of my bones to break. I'm afraid with the kids of Westreet Prep, it is a very serious possibility I have to consider. 

"Who did you beat up his time Eli?" She asks when I walk into her office.

I am infamous for my numerous fights in school. It's not like I go around looking for random people to beat up. People just tend to assume that because I'm the height of a pregnant badger it means I can't defend myself. I sometimes get carried away in my ploys to prove them wrong. 

"What little faith you have in me, Nurse Byrne," I say while scribbling my name into the logbook and stealing a candy bar from the bowl fill of them Nurse Byrne keeps on the table for the extremely good kids which more often than not, refer to the victims of bullies' wraths.

"I am supposed to believe you're the victim?" I do not blame her for her incredulity. I don't believe it myself. 

"It's happened before, " I say. "But today there were no fights."

"So what brings you here? Besides your obsession with my candy bars. You know you have to earn those Eli." 

"Guilty, " I shrug my shoulders. Nurse Byrne has a bowl of candy bars on her table. "I fell asleep in class."

"And the teacher wants me to...?"

"Cure my insomnia or dementia. Though I am not sure which comes first."

"You're hilarious, " Nurse Byrne says rising from her chair and coming to stand in front of me. "Let's get this over with so you can get back to class as soon as possible."

"Isn't the cure for insomnia sleep?" I ask, sly smirk forming.

"What are you suggesting?" Nurse Byrne has every right to be wary of me when I am grinning like the mad scientist Rick from the eponymous television show he is the start off with his nephew Morty. 

"Let me sleep."

"You want me to give you sleeping pills?" 

"When you say it like that..."

Nurse Byrne laughs. "I love you, Eli. But what you need is a psychologist. I'm not authorized to give you anything other than paracetamol."

I blow air out of my lips. My irritation at the hitch in my plan quickly fades into delight. "Then pump me with painkillers!"

Did I forget to mention I'm a bit psychotic?

She laughs again. "You are one weird kid Wilder Sanchez."

I grin at the compliment. "So I've been told."

I'm awoken by a gentle but firm shaking of my shoulders. After repeatedly blinking, my eyes meet the cobalt blues of another human being. A male specimen to be precise. 

"Abe, " I say. My tongue is heavy in my mouth and even though I took a cocktail of painkillers before falling asleep, I feel a headache forming in my temple. 

"I'm here too, " Josh adds because obviously, he cannot live without going unnoticed. 

I look around. I'm in the sickbay. Nurse Byrne has left me with the two Bennett boys. 

"What are you guys doing here?" I ask, throwing my legs off the side of the bed and slipping my feet into my black boots. 

"We have a garden to build," Abe reminds me.

"And what about him?" I point a finger in Josh's direction. 

He's hurt by my apparent disregard for him. 

"When that i***t-" Abe pauses to glare at his brother. "Heard I was looking for you so we could go to the garden together, he begged me to let him tag along."

"I did not beg," Josh argues. 

But staring at his sandy blonde hair and ocean blue eyes there is no doubt in my mind that this man-child can very well be reduced to begging when negotiating with a brick-hearted boy like Abe. 

I finish tying up my laces and swing to my feet. I stumble.

"Woah there, " Abe gasps. 

Hands wrap around my waist, steadying me before I can faceplant into the linoleum floor. I forgot about the dizzying effect of a pill-induced sleep on waking up. 

"Thanks, " I'm uncomfortable that he has seen me in my weak state. The hands don't drop even though I am stable. It takes Josh's clearing his throat unnecessarily loudly to grab Abe's attention. 

"Grab your stuff. We're going in my car."

"I didn't ask for a ride, " I say spitefully even though I am secretly grateful I get to save the cab fare for my next visit to my dealer. 

"He drives a Corvette," Josh says as if that is supposed to make me want to carpool with him and his brother. I am illiterate in cars. I couldn't care less whether he drives a Bentley or Ford, as long as the car has great mileage and a functioning radio system. 

"So?"

"You have so much to learn fingerling, " Josh says, coming up to me and swinging an arm over my shoulder. 

"Not from you, " Abe snaps, stepping between us and his arms so we're wide apart. "Let's save some space for Jesus, shall we?"

And so we walk out of the sickbay together. I spend a few seconds wondering where Nurse Byrne has gone but my mind quickly shifts to surviving the herd of high school students that stomp the wide hallways of Westreet Prep. The boys and I are broken apart by the flow of the crowd. 

I make it to my locker in one piece and grab my books, randomly shoving them into my floral backpack before slinging a single strap over my shoulder. Everyone knows disproportionately carrying your backpack is the trend even though it results in strained necks and aching backs. I'm looking around the hallway, wondering where the hell the Bennett boys have wandered off to when I catch the junior Bennett flirting with a girl. 

I know they are flirting because Josh's shoulders are squared and he's wearing his million-dollar smirk that will melt the stoniest heart to butter. The girl has a hand limp on his chest and his batting her eyelashes as if the thick eyeshadow is blinding her. 

Because I am a good person, I saunter over to where they are standing and drape a hand over Josh's waist. 

He looks down in surprise, eyes widening when he sees me. They bulge further when he sees the evil smirk on my face.

"I hate to break this lovely romance up but I'm afraid Joshie and I need to go. You see Josh here recently got bitten by a stray dog. We have to go to the doctor's office for his rabies shot and later to the theatre for his butt transplant. You know the dog chewed off a whole chunk of his ass. Joshie was bawling and the dog was barking and it was all really bloody and tragic." I pout sadly for good measure. 

The girl looks at Josh in pity/disgust, mumbles an excuse, and scurries away.

Josh shrugs my hand off and glares at me. "What was that for?"

"I just saved you the cost of treatment for the sexually transmitted infections you no doubt would have acquired should you have pursued a relationship with her. You're welcome." I smirk.