“Oh, okay. Thanks,” Lauren said uneasily, and she took two steps backward before she turned and exited the office.
So his name was Michael Delaney. She’d never heard of him before. What had she missed back there? She was hoping Jenn had been paying enough attention to figure out what had set him off like that.
For some reason, she felt like she needed to know.
As she turned the corner and started back down the hallway toward her class, Lauren’s eyes landed on the glass doors at the end of the corridor that led out to the parking lot.
She could see someone out there, perched on the trunk of a car, and selective amnesia when it comes to Delgry before her eyes could confirm it, her mind already knew who it was.
Lauren slowed, cautiously observing him as she neared the classroom. He was completely still, statuesque even, a far cry from what she had just witnessed moments ago. When she finally reached room 228, despite her better judgment, she continued on down the hall, slowly approaching the doors at the end of the corridor the way someone might approach an injured animal.
He was sitting on the trunk of a car, his feet propped up on the bumper and his hat dangling lifelessly from his fingers as he rested his elbows on his knees. His head was bowed so that all she could see was his hair, full and dark and slightly mussed from the hat.
Lauren watched him, the oddest feeling settling in her chest as he reached up and dragged his hand down his face before dropping his head back. His shoulders rose dramatically as he took a slow, deep breath, blinking up at the sky.
And for some unfathomable reason, in that moment, she felt like she should do something.
But what could she do? Go out there? That seemed like an incredibly foolish thing to do. He didn’t even know her. And besides, if she did go out there, what would she even say?
Mr. Mavis had said he’d been triggered, but what did that mean? That he was dangerous? He’d certainly looked it back in the classroom; in fact, dangerous was an understatement.
But right now? Right now, he just looked broken.
He brought his head back down and closed his eyes, and as soon as he opened them, they fell on Lauren watching him through the doors.
She gasped audibly as she whirled around; any fear she should have felt at that moment was completely overshadowed by the embarrassment at being caught staring at him for the second time. She darted back to the Health room without looking back, but she didn’t need to; she could still feel his eyes on her.
He never came back to class that day.
By the following period, it seemed everyone had heard about what happened. The story spread with alarming speed, along with a slew of other rumors about Michael Delaney.
Everyone seemed to know him as Del. He was a sophomore, one year older than her. He’d been suspended in his middle school more times than anyone could keep track of. The only reason he hadn’t been expelled was because he was smart enough to manage good grades, despite the classes he missed due to detentions and suspensions. He didn’t have a father. His mother hated him. His brother was dead.
And then came the ridiculous ones: “I heard he pulled a knife on a teacher once.” “I heard he’s been in prison.” “I heard he murdered his brother.”
Lauren had no idea what was fact or fiction, what was true and what was exaggerated or embellished, but by the end of that day, she was pretty sure she had come to two accurate conclusions: Michael Delaney had a very troubled life, and the general population was smart enough to stay away from him.
When Lauren walked into school the next day, she wasn’t surprised to hear students still talking about Keith Wagner’s near-death experience in Health class. She had expected that.
But what she didn’t expect was to see Michael.
Lauren had thought for sure he would have been suspended for the outburst, and that Health that afternoon would be relatively uneventful.
But when she emerged from the stairwell that morning on her way to English { display: block; font-size: g le class, she stopped in her tracks. There he was, leaning against the wall in front of the cafeteria, talking with two other boys.
She stood there for a second, expecting to feel fear surge through her body after everything she’d heard and witnessed the day before, but even as the thought crossed her mind, his lips parted as he laughed at something one of the other boys had said.
There was nothing frightening about him in that moment: the lighthearted laugh, his casual stance against the wall as he bounced a small blue rubber ball mindlessly on the floor, flicking his wrist and catching it effortlessly without ever removing his attention from the conversation.
Lauren stepped to the side, safely shielded by the mass of students in the hallway, and studied him, trying to see what she knew she was supposed to be seeing.
Trying to make the danger appear.
But for some reason, all she could conjure up was the image of him totally vulnerable on the trunk of the car the day before.
And when he laughed again, this time the hearty sound of it carried down the hall to her, and suddenly Lauren felt like the people who spewed those rumors yesterday must have accidentally confused him with someone else.
She had to find out.
Without even fully deciding to do it, she squatted down on the side of the hallway and pulled her Health notebook out of her backpack before tearing out the two pages of notes she’d taken the day before. She looked them over briefly before closing the notebook and shoving it back into her bag, tossing it over her shoulder as she stood.
And then Lauren walked toward the three boys standing outside the cafeteria.
As she closed the distance between them, there was a split-second when her resolve wavered and she thought about turning around, but then Michael looked at her, having noticed her approaching, and she knew she had to follow through.
“Hey,” she said softly when she reached them, and the other two boys turned to look at her, saying nothing.
She glanced at the others before looking back at him, and she almost lost her nerve. His eyes were the darkest brown she’d ever seen, almost black, and his lips were full and pink, the kind of lips women would kill for. His face, like everything she knew about him, was purely contradictory. That cherubic mouth with those penetrating eyes: he was too lovely to be menacing, but too intense to be innocent.
The three boys stared at her, waiting.
She held out the pieces of loose-leaf she’d torn from her notebook. “These are the notes you missed yesterday.”
Michael glanced down at them, unmoving.
“In Health,” she clarified after a few seconds had passed.
He lifted his eyes back to hers, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw one of the boys nudge the other and nod in her direction, followed by muffled laughter; she lifted her chin slightly, her eyes still on Michael and her hand extended, offering him the papers.
Finally, he reached forward, taking them from her and glancing down at them.
“Thanks,” he said absently, and then he shifted his body so he turned away from her to face his friends again.
And she knew the conversation was over.
Lauren stood there for a second before she turned and walked away, and she heard that same muffled laughter again. She had no idea if his friend was laughing at her or not, but it didn’t matter. She realized she wasn’t feeling embarrassed, or surprised, or disappointed by the turn of ev">But for some reason, "> shoulderents, because she had gone into the situation without any expectations.
It was an experiment. She was just testing the outcome, not anticipating one.
While he had been civilized, he certainly hadn’t been friendly. And that was fine. Now at least she had her own opinions of him, based on her own experiences, not some crazy rumors. He wasn’t a monster per se. He just wasn’t very nice.
At least she had made the effort.
She walked through the door of her English class, her head held high, feeling proud of herself.