The Beginning of Never (The Never Trilogy #1) (6 page)

The
other houses, each named after regions of the Lancashire County were decorated
just like ours but with their respective colors.
Cartmel
was a dark magenta, Lonsdale was a bright red,
Grizedale
was
laminex
blue, and
Bowland
was a deep yellow.

Lonsdale
was by far the prettiest, and I always thought that I should have been in
Lonsdale. However, I had been assigned to
Pendle
since my first day here with the promise that house choices were always fated;
I was yet to see the benefit of being in mine. A small compensation however,
was that it did have an interesting history being that it was named after the
Pendle
Hill; a region in the county where witches had been
tried and executed in the 17
^th
century.

A
small knock sounded at the door and I looked up to see Kate come in. Although
she lived in
Cartmel
, which was quite a distance
away, she had already stopped by a couple of times since the year began. She
had friends here that she usually came to visit but still, I appreciated her
drop-ins, especially since I had only been to hers once.

She
had a small box in her hand and instantly, I recognized it as the chocolate
fudge cake that was rarely ever available in the dining hall. My mouth
immediately watered. Just then, Olivia came in with her friends and
automatically, my small smile flat lined.

To
my injury, they were excited about something and that meant a lot of squealing
and laughter. I was sure they never completely let loose like this in public
but in here, I had to be the victim of all of it. Kate cringed from the noise
as she lowered herself to sit beside me.

“I
didn’t see you for lunch,” she said.

“Do
you
ever
see me for lunch?”

She
cocked her head to the side as she considered this, and then agreed. “That
is
true. Anyway, you missed a little
drama.” She lowered her voice and leaned a little closer to me. “Do you
remember the boy I ran off to see in the cafeteria?”

I
nodded.

“Well
he came in a while ago to pick up a snack from the buffet. Olivia went over to
say hi.”

My
eyebrows rose in feigned interest, but I still turned to see Olivia’s friends
gazing upon her with awe as she no doubt re-narrated the event to them. It was
amusing, especially when I watched Kate listen attentively to them and realized
that this was probably why she had stopped by today.

“Did
he talk to her?” I asked, turning to see the gloomy look on Kate’s face as she
watched Olivia’s beam with joy.

“He
did, but only for a few seconds. What do you expect? He’s probably too polite
to refuse her,” she said. “I’m making a move next time.”

I
raised my thumb sarcastically at her. “Go for it!”

She
caught the mockery and reached over to playfully slap my elbow. Then she handed
the box over to me. “I brought cake.” She said, and I didn’t wait for her to
change her mind. Thanking her, I accepted the box and immediately opened it.

“I
better get going,” she said as she stood. “Later?”

I
nodded, a piece of chocolate fudge cake already finding its way to my mouth.

I forgot to attend to Beverly’s
errand, so that evening, I skirted around at dinner, dodging every senior who
had the
Pendle’s
witch-on-a-broom logo pasted to the
front of her shirt. Thereafter, I had fallen asleep and awoken later in the
night to begin my assignment, only to discover that somewhere along the line I
had misplaced the textbook that I’d borrowed from the library. It had been so
upsetting because I’d finally worked up the urgency to do the assignment, and I
couldn't.

However, after retracing my footsteps, I realized that
I had left it under the pile that I’d helped James carry the previous day. In
my haste to run out of the room, I’d completely forgotten about it. I expected
that in a way, I should have been happy about it because the oversight would
give me a solid reason to go back to the seniors’ floor and probably catch a
glimpse of Nathan. But after my performance the previous day, all I could feel
was dread; dread that I could run into Beverly, or that even if I did run into
him, he would ignore me. I wasn’t sure which would be more distressing.

So far I'd managed to keep my head low, but my
carelessness over the last two days was exposing me to more seniors than I
would have liked. I didn’t have a choice anyway because the option of just
waiting until the school day
ended,
with the hope that
I would see James again was too risky. My assignment was due the next day.

So by lunchtime, I was prepped for the worst, but when
I reached their floor to see that it was practically emptied for lunch unlike
the previous day, my shoulders slumped with relief. I would be barely noticed.

In no time, I found the classroom and pushed the door
open, hoping with all of my heart that James would be in there. I was immensely
disappointed because instead of James or even Nathan, were two of the boys that
had attacked me the previous week; the red-haired one whose name I think was
Clinton, and the dark-haired one that had pushed me to the floor.

They were sitting on desks and laughing about
something, and both simultaneously turned to me when I came in. Fear instantly
struck my heart, and I had started to turn back around when I caught sight of
the stack of books on the table.

"Hey!" one of them called, as if daring me to
come forward, but he needn't have, because the moment I caught sight of my
book, I was more than ready to go through anything. I moved, walking forward as
quickly as I could, all the while trying my best to completely ignore them.
Hurriedly, I studied the stack on the teacher’s desk and was relieved when I
saw mine at the bottom. I retrieved it and turned around to leave, but they had
planted themselves in front of the door.

They looked ridiculous as they stood there, with arms
folded across their chests and aggravating smirks on their faces.

“Leave me alone,” I said, not interested in getting
into any further trouble even though I wished that I could smash their heads together.
The headmaster was yet to inform us of when we would be suspended, and I didn’t
want to make it any worse.

"I knew you'd come back for us," the
red-haired one said, and I wondered how someone could be so annoying.

"Get out of my way," I demanded, surprised at
how bored I sounded. It in no way mirrored the panic that I was beginning to
feel. They laughed, and even though the sound sent chills down my spine, I knew
they were constrained in the damage they could inflict since school was still
fully in session. But still, we were in a closed room, on an almost empty
hallway. I swallowed.

"In your dreams," he said, and started to
move towards me. “Do you see this?” he pointed to the bruises that still
darkened the side of his face. “This is
all your
fault.
My neck still hurts, and that day, you almost broke my
fucking
arm. You’re a stupid bitch, do you know that?”

It took all my willpower not to retreat, especially
when he’d come close enough to me that I could smell the garlic on his breath.
Wanting to gag, I contorted my face in disgust, but I didn’t expect what he did
next.

He swung his arm, and struck the side of my face with a
resounding slap. It turned my head to the side and I gasped, dazed at the
blinding pain that burned across my cheeks. Even his friend took a step forward
and touched the side of his hand in caution. “Clinton,” he called, but Clinton
pulled his hand away and raised it to point his fore finger at me.

“That,” he said, “Is for what I went through last week
because of you.”

Tears rushed to my eyes, the burning pain that was
clawing at the side of my face making me so angry that I could scarcely
breathe. I looked up, my eyes ablaze with rage and my body shaking from the
fury I felt. I was going to control myself but he took another step towards me,
and I lost it.

With the textbook I had in my hand, I swung my arm as
hard as I could and it hit the side of his face with a loud blow. He was so
shocked that at first he just stared at me with widened eyes. Then he
recovered, and shoved me.

The book fell out of my hands as I flew backwards and
tried to break my fall, but I was glad that he hadn’t done something worse like
punch me in the face. It should have been surprising to me that he didn’t mind
hitting a girl but I had a dad that I’d watched hurt my mother more times than
I cared to remember, so it didn’t move me. Bastards like these existed
everywhere.

I landed on the floor, and just then, I heard the door
to the classroom open. Trying my best to rise to my feet as quickly as I could,
I glanced towards the door and almost stopped breathing when I saw Nathan
standing at the threshold and watching me. I felt relieved that he was there,
but as I watched his face change when he took in the sight of me on the ground,
and then turned to the boys, I was suddenly very scared for them.

Closing the door behind him, he came towards me to help
me to my feet. I stumbled against him, and it took me a few seconds to
stabilize myself before I could meet his eyes. It was a mistake, because
although he appeared calm, his eyes had turned a very dark shade of blue- like
clouds had gathered across a previously bright sky. I felt his anger like heat
against my skin and for a moment, I almost shrugged his arms off because they
seemed to be burning right through my sleeves.

"I'm fine, don’t worry about it," I quickly
said, and started to turn him away so that we could walk out together. But he
refused, and gently pulled my hand down from his.

“Leave,” he said, but I refused.

I held his hand again and tried turning him to come
with me, and he did, but he stopped as we got to the door and gently but
firmly, pushed me outside. Then he banged the door in my face.

I stayed there for a few seconds, exhausted and upset.

Then I heard the first blow, accompanied by a shout and
the crashing of somebody into the furniture. Terrified, I jumped and ran back
into the room to see the dark haired boy already on the floor. Right then,
Nathan grabbed Clinton by the collar, and my hand shot up to stifle my gasp as
his fist connected with the boy’s face, driving it to the side. I could have
sworn I saw sparks fly.

“Nathan!” I yelled, and I ran to him, but before I
could even get to him, he had delivered two more blows. Blood poured from the
boy’s broken nose as he fell to the floor, but Nathan refused to let him be. He
lowered himself down to meet him, and drew his arm back for another blow.

With my heart in my mouth, I grabbed Nathan’s arm but
the force of his swing easily displaced me and I was thrown forward, barely
missing the blow myself by only a few inches.

That stopped him, but it brought me face to face with
the blood that had gathered on the boy’s face. Tears erupted from my eyes.

“Nathan,” I cried, and he immediately took hold of my
arm. He rose with me and I held on for support, my quiet sobs piercing through
the deadly quiet room. He turned me to him, and I buried my head against his
neck. When I had gotten myself under control, he held my shoulders and pulled
me slightly away to look into my eyes.

"Look at me," he said, but I couldn't. My
eyes were still filled with tears. I caught another glimpse of how bloodied the
boy’s face had become, and the tears seemed to come down even faster.

"Look at me," he repeated, this time a little
harder and I was forced to look into his frozen blue eyes.

"Go now, to your class," he said, but I
started to look away to try to find my textbook. He saw what I was after and
shook his head.

“Leave that for now,” he said. "But wait for me in
your class a few minutes after school, and I'll bring it to you."

"What happened here?" I heard a familiar
voice say behind me, and we both turned to see James with eyes that had widened
to the size of saucers. That was more than enough to prompt me back into action
as I realized the severity of the situation if anyone else was to come in and
meet the scene. Immediately, I turned and started to pull Nathan along with me
but he stopped me again, and forced my eyes to meet his.

"I’ll be fine," he said, but still, I
hesitated. James turned me around and led me out.

*

Nathan met me sitting down with
my left hand around my midriff, and my teeth, nervously biting away at the nail
of my right thumb. He didn’t know it, but it was a significant improvement from
tapping my foot, which I had done all throughout my classes until my French
teacher had threatened to throw me out. Then I'd had to find a more quiet way
to manage the whirlwind of agitation inside of me.

My thoughts had run rampage in the wait for him, imagining
every possible scenario that could have taken place after I left. How much
trouble had he gotten into? Had he been sent to the headmaster again? He was
bound to be in deeper trouble this time around, and it'd be entirely my fault.
I reasoned too late that I should have stayed to at least bear this with him.
He shouldn't have to take the heat alone.

"Here's your textbook," he said.

I was startled because he was now standing just a few
feet away, and I hadn’t even realized when he had come in. I rose and took the
book from him, but immediately he turned, and started to leave.

"Wait!" I called, but he didn't stop.

I found myself going after him, and just before he
reached the door, I reached out and lightly touched his arm. He stopped then
and turned around, but his stare was still so cold that reflexively, I took a
step back.

"What happened?" I asked, but he didn't seem
to have heard me because his eyes were now searching my face, and for what, I
had absolutely no idea. I was about to repeat my question when his eyes finally
settled on mine; my stomach tightened in response.

"It's fine,” he said. “I handled it."

"Did the headmaster call for you?"

"No."

I was surprised.
"How
come?"

"Because I left him there.
James helped him to the infirmary."

I was shocked. I wasn’t sure what to feel, but one
thing I did know was that I was disappointed.

"How could you just leave him there?" I
cried. “Didn't you see how badly he was hurt?”

"Yes, I did see how badly he was hurt, and that
was why I got out of there before I did any more damage," he said acidly,
and then his tone increased like he was finding it very difficult to control
his temper.

"He hit you, and you still just stood there.
What’s
wrong
with you?"

I was silent for a few seconds as I tried to understand
what he was saying.

"I thought ..." I began, but he interrupted
me.

"Do you know how much more they could have hurt
you?"

Then he exploded. "What were you even doing in
that class?" His tone was still not loud enough to be heard outside the
room, but it was loud enough to frighten me. It made me defensive, so my tone
went up too.

 
"I have an
assign –" I started, but again, he didn't let me finish.

"Why couldn't you come back? Didn't you see them
in there?"

"What was I supposed to do? Walk away?"

"Yes! Exactly!” he yelled again as if he couldn’t
understand why it hadn’t occurred to me. “That was exactly what you were
supposed to do, at least until there were other people present. This was the
same thing you did last week; instead of trying to get help you kept on trying
to take on four boys! Are you out of your mind?"

He was furious. "The hallway was empty and school
had closed for the weekend. What happened to calling out for help? What
happened to screaming? What happened to running away? Anything could have happened,
or did you think that shoving you around was the worst thing they could have
done?"

He stopped then and exhaled, while I just stared
blankly at him, too stunned at his outburst. With one last glare, he thrust his
hands into the pockets of his camel-colored coat and strode out of the
classroom, leaving me to feel like a bucket of ice had just been poured over
me.

I went after him.

"Nathan!" I called out when I saw him start
to climb up the stairs at the end of the floor, but he didn't respond. I went
back to grab my backpack and then hurried after him, quickening my steps so
that I could catch up. I wondered why I was even bothering, but I couldn't seem
to stop.

We reached the second floor and he left the block,
heading out towards the skywalk that connected all the buildings. I was walking
as fast as I could but couldn't catch up with him until he had exited, and then
entered the tower that housed the library. I reduced my steps to an extent
then, because the muscles in my feet were beginning to hurt. Walking in, I went
past the librarian and onto the study floor.

I spent the next twenty minutes searching for him, but
I couldn't find him. Eventually it got to the point where I started to doubt if
he had even come in here at all. I went around again and again until I finally
gave up, terribly upset.