Of Fights and Letters: Chapter 3: Flirting and Infirmaries

I practically jumped a foot in the air. I quickly composed myself, snapped my sketchbook closed and whirled around. It was a boy; he had blonde hair with dark chocolate brown streaks, and very pale green eyes. He was wearing a dark green shirt, and blue jeans. He also had light brown-yellowish work boots, along with a dark brown leather jacket. He smiled at me, and I noticed that both of his canines were a little more forward than the rest of his teeth.

Nobody but Nicoli had ever been allowed to look at my sketches. “Uh, well, he’s uh, he’s my best friend,” I said, nervously twisting my fingers together. I felt a cool pair of fingers on my chin; he lifted my face up again, and said, “There’s no reason to be nervous; you draw very well.” I smiled back.

“Thanks. Nobody but Nicoli,” I said, pointing to my picture, “Has ever seen them, so I never really knew if I was as good as he said I was.”

“Well, I think it’s the second most amazing thing I’ve ever seen; the first being you,” he said, keeping his head slightly down, a blush creeping up his neck.

“Uh, thanks,” I said, unsure of what to do. Nobody had ever hit on my before, or complimented me like that. “Um, what’s your name? Mine’s Naomi, Naomi Finocchiaro, or Ryder, whichever.” I said, flippantly waving a hand at my two last names.

“Well, Naomi Finocchiaro Ryder, my name is Aaron, Aaron Banks.”

Before I could respond, Carter came over to where I was sitting. “Hey, Naomi,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, “Sorry about before, I was just-” He cut himself off, finally noticing Aaron. His eyes turned black, and a vein throbbed in his forehead. “What,” he said, in a deadly calm, “Are you doing over here, Banks?” Carter, who I thought was a very peaceful person, looked about ready to punch Aaron in the face.

Aaron stared at me for another couple seconds, and then he slowly got up and turned to face Carter, their noses only a few inches apart. When he spoke, it chilled me to the bone. “What are you going to do about it, Mason?” He spat Carter’s last name out, as if it was poison in his mouth. To prevent a fight, I quickly jumped up and placed myself between the two boys, one hand on each of their chests, keeping them apart.

“Woah, calm down. Carter,” I said, trying to keep my voice even and calm, “Come with me; the bell is going to ring soon, and we have to get to class. Aaron, I will see you later.” Neither boy looked as if they were going to make a move after my directions, so I grabbed Carter’s hand and I started to walk away. I suddenly felt an arm wrap around my waist, pulling me back. I fell back, and Aaron caught me against him. He quickly swung me around and pushed me toward the opposite wall, and I smashed into it, face-first.

I turned around just in time to see Aaron grab Carter by the front collar of his shirt, and then he used his other hand to punch him in the face. I was so mad; I had no idea what the boys had done to make the other their enemy, but I was seeing too much red too care. I leaped up onto Aaron and knocked him down. Then, I situated myself on his chest and punched him in the face. It wasn't until someone, probably Carter, pried me off him that I was able to stop.

First day attending the school, and I’d already gotten into two fights. I’d won both, but still. I was too shocked at how much I had bloodied Aaron’s face and was unable to move, so Carter gently picked me up, bridal-style, and carried me to the nurse. The nurse, Agatha, cleaned up my face, and then had Carter take off his hoodie and shirt so that she could take care of his back.

I know the kid was hurt, yet I couldn’t help but stare at his chest. There was no way I would’ve been able to tell under his hoodie, but he not only had a sculpted chest-which proved that he was, indeed, strong, most likely stronger than Aaron-but his chest and arms were covered in bruises and lacerations, new and old. The nurse said that he would have to stay in the infirmary for a while, and asked if I would like a new guide to show me around, but I said, “No, thank you, but Carter is my friend. I can’t leave him.” She just smiled and nodded, and then left me alone with him.

He was laying down on one of the cots in the infirmary, with his shirt off and the sheets rucked up around him, peacefully sleeping. I sat down in the chair next to him, grabbing his hand and giving it a comforting squeeze. Normally, I’d never do anything like what I was about to do, but I’d nearly got a concussion being thrown against the wall, and I wasn’t in my right mind. So, I reached out with my other hand, lightly running my fingers over the bruises and puckered scars, wondering where he had received them. I was too entranced by the marks on his chest to notice the corners of his mouth quirk up in a tiny smile.