Chapter 6: Close Quarters
1511 Words
“Okay, what am I looking for?” I said, as I rubbed a remaining tear off my cheek. I shook my head, hoping to expel the sadness and anger welling up inside. I needed to distract myself from what I had just read, so I was eager to help.
“I am looking for this quarter’s report card. I heard my basketball coach is going to be going through the teams grades this term and cracking down on guys who are failing.” He pushed his hair behind his ear. “There is a sports rule that says all players got to have a least C’s for all classes to continue playing.” He started nodding his head and I noticed he bit his lip. “I didn’t pass all my classes, so I am here to change my grade.”
He headed over to the three tall filing cabinets in the back of the room and opened one. He then continued, “I gotta get my act together this next semester for real, though. I don’t know if I will be able to get away with changing my grades three times in a row.” He started rummaging through the files. He casually pushed his hair back with his hand.
His hair was long and golden in color with a gentle wave. He often wore it up in a bun or ponytail, but today it was loose and slightly wild. His rough make out session probably accounted for the messy look, I smirked.
“Got it. I understand.” I said “G, G,G” I mumbled, opening the second filing cabinet behind Alex. He had nice calf muscles, I noted as I gazed down into the files. “You have done this before then? Changed your grades?”
“Yeah, last year. Had some problems at home, and just couldn’t keep up. I did a whole lot better this year, but just failed one class…I think.” He paused and looked at me intently. “Just like you, I don’t want one bad thing to affect me, my future, or my sport.” He leaned over the filing cabinet and folded his arms.
He smiled at me and I smiled back briefly before averting my gaze. I felt my cheeks burn. “Why have I never met you before?” He asked.
“Oh, I am not the type to fawn over a guy, you probably missed me behind the crowd of girls you always have around.” I grinned.
“Well you obviously seem interested, you know,” He turned around, so his back was to me again. “Since you like to spy on me.” He pulled a large file out of the cabinet and sat down on the desk.
“Excuse me?” I said with a little too much sass in my voice, but I wanted to enunciate my revulsion to his statement. “Spying? What the hell are you talking about?”
He laughed, but still didn’t face me. “Well you knew about me and the red head. So, you must have been spying. Hoping you were in her shoes by any chance.” It was at this moment he timed his move, spinning in the chair to face me. He seemed to be trying to make his face into a humorous, accusing stare.
“She has a name you know!” I proclaimed. I too, had found a potentially useful file, ripped it out of the filing cabinet and marched over to the opposing chair and plopped down with the file before me. I had found Alex Great’s personal school file, maybe there was something juicy in here I could hold over his head.
“Yeah, you are probably right, but I just don’t care to know, you know? Sure, I like making out and messing around, but it’s all surface level just like I like it. And you know what! Most of the girls are after the same thing. Just a little bit of fun. They don’t ask about me or get to know me either. So, it’s all kinda the same!” His voice raised a little. I think I struck a chord.
“Well they all know your name!” I pealed open the file and began searching for the report card. Our school was still so old school, they still filled out handwritten report cards.
“There is a lot more to a person than just their name.”
“You are right.” I decided to end it there.
“Found it!” He finally said after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence.
I stood up and made my way over to him and leaned over the desk to see his report card. He read my letter; it was only fair for me to see his. My eyes widened in shock. It seemed like A’s lined the card from top to bottom.
“Right here.” He pointed and instantly grabbed for a pen.
There it was, a D in English. Yet, everything else seemed perfect. It put my average grades to shame. I would kill for that many A’s in all four years of high school, let alone on a single report card.
“I just hate writing. I got this damn D because I suck at writing thesis papers. I mean it’s freaking Shakespeare. What is there to know? Mrs. Rodriquez said it lacked depth and credible sources, whatever the hell that means.” He leaned over real close and began altering the report.
“Gosh, I absolutely love writing. In fact, Mrs. Rodriquez’ classes are the only classes I can pass with flying colors. You said you wanted to make an effort this semester, right? Maybe I could help you out.” Why the hell was I offering to help? Why was I trying to get involved? I know I like helping people, but this had trouble written all over it.
“Done.” He exclaimed, causing me to wonder if he even heard me. Maybe I got lucky, and he wasn’t paying attention. He said so himself, he only likes surface level stuff, so maybe he was blocking me out.
I reached over and grabbed my file and placed it back into the cabinet. He proceeded to do the same thing.
“Looks like we were both successful in our missions. We…”
Alex was instantly cut off by other voice.
“I just got to grab that paperwork really quick. Give me a sec.” Mr. Hatfield’s voice echoed from the hallway.
He was making his way to his office. Already!? It can’t have been a whole hour already. Seventh period can’t be over! We were going to be caught red handed.
“s**t, s**t, s**t!” Alex whispered.
Alex shut his filing cabinet and mine and shouted, “Closet, now!” He pushed and guided me to the open coat closet behind me.
“But, my book bag!” It was laying on the floor at the foot of the desk.
“Leave it.” He whispered through gritted teeth. He opened the door, and shoved me in.
It was a tiny little closet with a single coat hanging from its rack. I pushed it aside and spun around. Maybe I could see what was going on through the crack or at least hear Alex get caught. But to my surprise and horror, Alex followed right behind me. He squeezed in just in time for us to hear the office doorknob creak open. Mr. Hatfield’s footsteps echoing along the linoleum.
I instantly became aware of my current situation. Alex’s hard body was pressed against mine. He was so close I could count the three moles on his cheeks. I could feel his quickened breathing pressing against my chest. He raised his finger to his mouth and signaled for me to be quiet.
I tried to avert my gaze to any other direction, but found my hair being tangled up in the single coat hanger.
“Ow.” I let out, pulling my hair in the process.
Alex instantly pushed his finger against my lips in attempts to silence me. My eyes must have widened, because a huge smile erupted upon his face. He kept his finger there for a few seconds longer, and slowly slid his finger down, pushing my lips apart ever so slightly. He gazed intently at me as I closed my eyes.
We were going to get caught for sure. It Mr. Hatfield heard me or sees me bookbag we are so screwed! I screamed internally to myself. This was not supposed to happen. How did I end up like this? I just wanted to switch out the letter, not find myself in a closet pushed up against the hottest guy in school. And! Worse, he seemed to be enjoying himself. Probably not his first time in this closet, that’s for sure.
Mr. Hatfield must have been taking his time, he was humming to himself. I could hear him opening multiple cabinets.
Alex shifted his weight ever so slightly and his hand grazed my own hand. I snatched it away instantly. Much to my own mistake, my elbow shot back and instantly pounded into the wall behind me. i***t! I am such an i***t!
“Hello! Is someone there?” Mr. Hatfield’s voice boomed.
“I am so sorry, " Alex’s last words whispered. "Please forgive me.” His arms wrapped around me and pulled me even tighter to his chest. His head leaned forward; his lips pressed hard against mine.
- Writer
