Chapter two of the story I wrote a few years ago can be found below— don’t be mad. This one is a bit of a cliff-hanger. At least you just have to wait until next Thursday for chapter 3! Enjoy! 🙂
Just as I’m getting ready to have the worst panic attack of my life, someone comes into the bathroom. I’m on the verge of tears and almost can’t stop from crying out loud. Whoever decided to use the bathroom now does not have the greatest timing in the world. I somehow force my body to freeze in the middle of my panic attack. As the footsteps walk across the tiled floor, I get a weird feeling. Why does it sound like the person is walking so heavily? Why does it sound like boots or sneakers and not fancy high heels or sandals?
As I’m trying to figure out who would even attempt to commit such fashion suicide in this school, I’m interrupted. The knocking on the wall makes me wonder what is going on now. I don’t understand why someone would feel the need to knock on the other stall’s door. When I came in it wasn’t even totally closed, or locked. So why knock? Then, as my ears focus in, it dawns on me… the knocking is coming from this stall’s door!
“Um, hello?” A strange male voice whispers to the blood red stall door. My heart immediately starts up again. This is a girl’s restroom. Besides, I’m in the handicap stall. No one at our school is even handicapped, really. At least they don’t have access to this restroom. “Listen, I know you’re in there. I saw you run away when you ran into me. I’ve been waiting for you to come out, but it’s taking you a while. I… I wasn’t sure if you were okay.”
Pause. Did someone just try to find out if I was okay? Who is this person? Obviously not someone I’ve talked to before. He must be a No-lifer, my kind now I guess. As I try to compose myself to walk out the door, it sounds like he’s about ready to walk away. I can’t let him. I’m not sure who this person is, what they are doing here, or why they care about me but I need someone now. More than I ever have before.
As fast as my brain can make my legs work, I’m up off of the toilet lid, at the stall’s door, opening it, and running out into the restroom. As my eyes adjust to the better lighting in this area of the room, I see a tall, dark haired guy. His back is facing me, but from what I can see he’s wearing a black tee, black pants that are covered in chains, and black combat boots. Was this some kind of joke? I thought to myself.
As time seems to stand still for me, I calculate how many guys I know from CHS that dress like this. The chains are huge, the black is weird, and this look is slightly creepy (even from the back). I know how many guys there are who dress like this in my school; zero. Maybe someone broke in and I didn’t hear the alarm. Or something. Something has to be going on here. This is just not normal in any way.
I haven’t really made any noise yet, and the guy is still headed away. Maybe if I turn around quickly, move quietly, and get back into the stall this creep will never see me. Then I can wait until he leaves and sit here in my horrific breakdown mode again. Before I can decide whether to move or stay, the guy turns around. I stare; shocked at his face.
Though his hair sweeps across his forehead in a way that matches his outfit, and he has red streaks mingling with his black hair, I can only focus on his face. He looks amazing. These deep blue-green eyes glance at me from underneath his stray bangs. His mouth curls upward like a child’s arms reaching for the sun. He gets this blush red color on his cheeks that just make him look all the more interesting. This is not what I was expecting at all. Here I was scared; scared of someone who looks like an angel dressed in devil’s clothes.
It must take a minute or more before we stop staring at each other. I’m not sure if it’s the way he looks or the pull that my mind has for a friend of any kind, but I can’t stop looking up into those eyes of his. At the same time, he seems just as mesmerized by me. But I must be mistaken; no one likes me at all. Maybe he’s waiting for me to say something. After pulling my brain away from the angel’s face, I open my mouth. And yet again, someone interrupts me. This seems to be happening a lot to me today.
A girl pushes past the heavy restroom door and stops immediately when she sees the two of us standing in the middle of the room. As her jaw drops, her eyes lock on the image of me and the Angel-man, as I have just decided to call him. She immediately turns around and stalks out of the bathroom with that same astonished look on her face.
This entire time, Angel-man has not stopped looking at me. Not even once. It’s making me blush, making my stomach churn. “Um…who are you?” I ask hesitantly. The suspense in this room and the silence is killing me.