Leigh

I sighed wistfully as I dropped my bookbag and took a seat in the sea of empty desks. I was alone in one of the student assembly rooms, clearly not where I was supposed to be. However, this wasn't my first rodeo, and this place was just one of my various hideouts in this school. It wasn't anything new for me to make my cunning escape once I heard a pair of keys jingling in the hallway, or a muffled voice on a walkie talkie. I slumped further into the chair, annoyed that it was the kind that connected to the desk with a thick metal bar.

Who designed those anyways? God forbid I drop my pen on the side where it conjoins, I'll have to bend my spine at a 90 degree angle because I'm too lazy to get up.

Shaking my head at the thought, I picked up my phone and absentmindedly gazed at the time.

"It should be Katalina's lunch time soon." I muttered to myself. It used to be a hassle to see her when we had different periods of lunch, but now basically the whole school day was free for me. Tapping the phone against my skin, I hid the smirk that slowly spread across my face.

Oh, how saying that would vex my therapist...

I even managed a chuckle thinking of his furrowed brows as he attempted to chastise me for it. I pulled the phone away and unlocked the screen, thinking back to our session as I went into my photos and opened the most recently taken picture. Then there he was on the screen, my therapist in all his self proclaimed glory.

I leaned back in my seat, glancing over the slightly blurry image of the dark haired man. The photo was snapped right as he was looking up, though his stormy grey eyes were surprisingly in focus, and staring intently at me. The smirk on my face shifted into a foolish grin as I thought about the ridiculousness of Katalina's request.

Does she know how much anxiety I went through to get this picture? In fact, I don't think I wanna give it to her after all. At least not right away, I'd rather just let her curiosity burn for a while.

With what I assumed was a devious expression on my face, I unzipped my bookbag to throw my phone in. Although, I paused when I saw the notebook that was given to me poking out.

Ah yes... my new assignment.

I idly pulled out the matte black notebook and flipped open to the second page. Another journal entry on how much I hated school would just stand to make me depressed, so I was glad that good ol' Dr. Ackerman implemented something new. He intended for me to write about my emotions and describe how I felt throughout the day, and honestly it seemed like a good idea to vent a bit. However, as the crisp white pages stared back at me untouched, I realized I had no idea where to begin.

"Maybe I should start with where I left off on the last one..." I mumbled, thankful that no one was around to hear me talking to myself. The last one went on about my school day until I went to the office, so this one should cover my therapy visit up until now. My lips curled up mischievously as I thought about leaving a garbage review of my session, relishing in what kind of face the other would make when he read it. Although, I decided I'd at least keep it honest with him considering he didn't blab to my dad about anything.

I began to scribble on the page, describing how annoyed I felt getting on the crowded bus to get off the school grounds. I wrote about my uneventful walk to the therapy office and how I thought the woman at the front was too excitable, as well as how nervous I felt when I was convinced my dad was inside. Once I got to the part where Ackerman showed up with that woman, I froze quickly after writing his name. I remembered feeling irritated because of my day at school, though it was like that feeling amplified by a thousand. I frowned as I continued, realizing that so far I had only negative emotions written. I didn't want my journal entry to seem too troubled because I feared that my family would have to get involved, therefore, I decided to lighten the tone towards the end.

I actually ended up laughing at my lack of retort when I wrote about the quirky therapist in training. I normally would dislike people like her, but something about her energy made me feel more relaxed. Afterwards, I made it all the way to where I pulled out my phone and I immediately halted again. I recalled the look on Ackerman's face when the flash went off and my words began to fail me. I had never seen him look so serious before as he was always gentle and coaxing with me prior to that. It made me wonder if he had a whole other side to him that I had yet to see. As well as when he walked over and leaned in close... how did I feel?

I bit my lip to distract myself as I struggled to come up with the right words. I definitely felt something unusual, and my behavior was totally out of character in terms of my personal space policy. If any other guy had gotten as close as he did, I would've decked him. I should've decked him!

I crossed my arms and lamented my poor decision, cringing inwardly as I pictured myself recoiling from someone with one of the least threatening jobs in the world. 

Oh no, my therapist is fast approaching! What the hell would he do- talk about my feelings to death?

It's true that he had approached me intensely, but so have plenty of people, who's asses I proceeded to kick. I wasn't sure why that was my first response, but I did honestly think I was in trouble.

"But how did you feel?" I muttered to myself in a bad impersonation of Ackerman's voice. I hummed pensively and tapped my pen to the notebook, figuring it would be best to just throw words out there and describe it.

Sort of like... impending doom, or panic? No, more like an adrenaline rush. Nervousness. Exhilaration, heart pounding-

I squeezed my pen hard to stop myself from writing, not even realizing that I was letting my thoughts flow directly to the page. I pressed so hard that an inky blot began to bleed out and obscure what I was writing. My face felt flush as I reread what I wrote and picked up my pen. It was starting to cross over into weird territory, as if I found some kind of strange thrill in him getting close to me. Still though, he would eventually have to read this. Therefore, I started to write a sort of explanation:

'Bitching and moaning about my problems to someone who is forced to listen is actually not so bad. Also, my therapist isn't the douchecanoe I thought he'd be, he seems like he is wholeheartedly trying to help and so I kind of... like him-'

"Ugh! That sounds so- what if he misinterprets and thinks I mean-" Warmth blossomed throughout my body out of nowhere as I went red in mortification. I leaned onto the desk with folded arms and buried my face, a pitiful whine escaping my lips soon after.

"I mean it like- I think he's a half decent therapist..."

What the hell am I doing?! I'm acting so dumb! I took a deep breath and stood up before throwing the notebook into my bag, tempted to just rip out the page and crumple it up. However, I decided I'd deal with it later as I slung my bag over my shoulder and made my way to the exit.

"I needed to meet up with Kat anyway, It's already been 15 minutes since her lunch began." I told myself as I willed the warmth in my cheeks to disperse. A goofy smile was still somewhat present on my face as I almost wanted to laugh at my stupid behavior. As I walked down the nearly deserted hallways of the school, I headed towards a lesser known stairway as a shortcut to the lunch room. I expected to breeze up the stairs and make it to the double doors in record time, though what I didn't expect was to see a group of guys giving some poor kid a hard time.

"-Gonna do something about it, you dumb ass bitch?"

I heard the latter half of whatever conversation they were having and scowled at their behavior. I was disgusted that they needed 4 guys to harass one person, and the sad thing is that this wasn't an uncommon sight. Meatheads always walked in packs like wolves and would crowd their prey into a wall. Upon hearing their little skirmish, I whirled around to push open the door again and try a different route to the lunchroom. I was far below them and they hadn't heard me come in, besides, this wasn't my fight. I had someone waiting on me. Although, I briefly felt sick with myself for not rushing in to help someone being cornered- 

I'll swing by the security desk and tell them about it, I naively thought- that is, until I heard the victim speak with a familiar high pitched voice in fluent Spanish. 

"Tu puta madre."

My eyes widened and I turned on my heels with a sudden realization as I mouthed Kat's name. I finally spotted her small figure though the crowd of guys as she desperately tried to push past them. The pulling of her long red hair and a fearful shriek were the last things I witnessed before something in me snapped- and suddenly my feet were in motion, my mind going blank as I became blinded by my own unyielding rage.