Finally I start to see his one good eyelid flutter and his fingers move.
He winces in pain.
“Jules?” His voice croaks.
"Yes, I'm here,” I respond.
While I’m relieved that he is at least awake and slightly coherent, now that I have confirmation that David isn’t dead, I have some fleeting not-so-nice thoughts about him.
This is what you get for being a complete jerk and embarrassing me in front of the entire school.
This is what you get for lying to me.
This is what you get for letting people watch me in your bedroom.
This is what you get for trying to ruin my reputation.
I hope you’re in lots of pain, jackass.
I am definitely a firm believer in karmic justice, and I have no doubt that karma is responsible for the fact that David’s been beaten to a pulp after casting me as an unwilling participant of his own little peep show. God doesn't like ugly.
“Help is coming soon,” I say flatly. “Your so-called friends here said they called 911.”
“Listen to me,” he says almost urgently as he grimaces through the pain, but this is no time for apologies. I don’t want to hear it.
“Quiet,” I silence him. “Talk later.”
He grabs my forearm. “Wait, Jules, the guy that did this–”
I should have realized when I first came upon David sprawled across the ground that something more was off. It’s weird that his teammates are all just standing around waiting for an ambulance. No one was actually doing anything. No one even went back into the school to get him an ice pack or something. It was like they were too frightened to do anything to help.
“Stand up.”
I’m still bent down by David’s side when I whip my head around and stare towards the direction of the deep, dangerous voice that just startled me.
The crowd of footballers parts with ease as the tall stranger approaches.
I remember his face.
He was the boy staring at me with disgust on his face when David and I were arguing.
“Are you talking to me?” I manage to eke out.
“Yes–and I told you to stand up and walk away.”
My eyes enlarge at his direct words and his crude manner. I feel like a deer caught in a pair of blinding headlights. Frightened to move. Unable to budge from my spot on the ground. The stranger holds my stare with his threatening jet black irises and wills me to my feet with them.
I rise to a standing position slowly, determined to face this beautiful but lethal looking boy. No wait, he’s more man than boy. I can surmise that underneath his clothes, every muscle in his body is sleekly defined, and he’s so tall that I could literally climb him like a pole and see for miles around.
Dressed in dark indigo blue jeans, a blue t-shirt, worn black leather boots, and tons of attitude leaking from his pores–he definitely gives off a mature type of energy.
A masculine, tough, raw, dominant kind of energy.
The kind of energy that clouds your mind and demands that you to listen to everything that its owner has to say.
It’s obvious that he doesn’t belong to this school or probably to this town. I’ve never seen anyone like him before in my life, and he is definitely someone who is unforgettable. This is a guy who could walk down the street and everyone would take notice. In fact, everyone is staring at him right now.
“Who are you?” I ask almost in awe.
