Saving Neba

𝐈𝐗: Mastering Skills

King and I bought the form when the school had dismissed for the day. He'd decided that we meet at the empty art class to discuss how the class presidency was going to work. I agreed with him, more because I did need to speak with King and, would I say no to someone I was beginning to get to know?

I was seated on a class seat while he chose to sit at a desk. His green jacket hung on his shoulders revealing a short-sleeved blue shirt that had an ash long sleeve coming down his arm.

"We have the form, what now?"

"Well, you heard the Dean. We take this for the holiday, get ready, and right as school reopens, the real thing goes down."

"Real thing, huh?"

I pressed my lips and clutched my binders tighter. "I meant the campaign and debate and election and all."

"Did you. . .Happen to talk to my sister, by any chance?"

"I. . .No. Not today. Why?"

He stepped down from the desk and walked to me, leaning down a bit so that we were almost at eye level. "No reason in particular. She was saying this thing about us running together." He raised an eyebrow, expecting a reaction.

Kimberly Isnaul would kill me because I sat on her chair and drank her wine? Or was it because I destroyed her cake - her party? Luan's close ally, you suppose.

"Listen." I subconsciously stood and stepped back. "I wanted to apologize for what I did to your father and what I'd almost caused your mother. I tripped on something and-"

"It was Sandra."

"No, I was the one who tripped and fell on the ca-"

"No, I mean it was Sandra who made you fall." My eyes widened and he just rolled his. "You're saying you didn't know? It was clear, she stuck her legs out, right after she told you to get off the stage. She'd caused the mess, the supposed scene they said you created-"

"No, King, you're getting it all wrong. I was feeling uncomfortable up there and Sandra was just coming to my aid."

"My foot!" He spat. "Are you that blind, Emery? Or are you really bathed in naivety?"

"Excuse me?"

"Because you wouldn't speak, because you want to trust every single person, because you want to help, because you're too busy thinking about your feelings and how it's going to hurt others! And now? It's everywhere, on the student page, for everyone to see, laugh and mock you, while you cower, hiding in some shell you shouldn't be."

I stepped even further away from him. He walked towards me until I was against a wall and there was no way to step back any further. "If this is how you want to run for class president, then" - he sucked in a deep breath - "it's just not going to work."

I pushed him as away from me as I could, heading to the door, getting it open, and running out. There in the corridor, Josh leaned on the wall. He was waiting for me.

Could this day not get any worse?

I turned quietly to leave through the other way, but George stood in front of me, towering over me. "Look, here's our crybaby in a princess dress."

"I. . .Am not a crybaby." I breathed in.

"That's not what I see." His index fingers traced the spot below my eyes and then he stuck it at me to see the sop right there on his index finger. "Can you see this? It's called a tear, baby."

"Leave me alone."

"You didn't want to talk to me at that party, hm. Was I not handsome, now?" I remained silent. "Tell me!" Josh's hands were at his favourite place again, my stomach. I stepped back and made a run for it, stopped when a pair of hands seized mine.