Page 16 of Voices

There’s an easel in the corner with a half-finished tiger head I’m in the middle of painting. I don’t feel like painting, though, so I head to the closet and grab a block of clay.

Setting it on my worktable, I unwrap the plastic and start cutting off chunks with a wire clay cutter. Not really knowing what to sculpt, I grab the cake turntable that I custom-made for my sculptures. After making sure the turntable won’t move, I ball up some paper and begin tapping it to the stand until it’s solid. Then, I start adding clay.

I get so lost in my head that by the time my hands have gone numb, the sun is rising. I shake out my hands and lean back, inspecting my work.

There’s a man smiling back at me with a square jaw, perfectly straight teeth, smooth, thin lips, high cheekbones, a button nose, and straight eyebrows with a tiny scar going through the left one. He has gentle eyes that I know to be as light blue as a Red-Spotted Purple butterfly that I once saw in Tennessee.

He'sthe beautiful one, not me.

I’ve only seen him twice but both times he was wearing a backwards black Gannon U hat. I need to add it to my sculpture but now that I’ve stopped concentrating, I register that my ass hurts from sitting for so long.

I grab a few hand towels from the closet and go to the bathroom to get them damp. I head back and cover the sculpture. Grabbing a plastic bag, I cover the whole thing and make sure there aren’t any openings so it doesn’t dry. I adjust the blackout curtains so no sunlight can get through and close the door behind me as I step out.

Yawning so big my jaw pops, I contemplate going to class. I only have one at ten, and I have the material memorized. But I know myself, and I’ll pace the length of my room for the hour I’d be in class if I don’t go.

On my way there, I’m feeling good dressed in a black From Ashes to New long-sleeve shirt and my favorite ripped black skinny jeans. The cold shower woke me up, but this outfit gave me that little boost of confidence I needed to face the day.

I’m almost there when I stop in Sip n’ Go for a much-needed pick me up.

I make my way to the front to grab a Red Bull from the cooler when I’m grabbed by the shoulder and pulled backward. I trip on something and my momentum has me losing my footing. My ribs hit the edge of a table, sending a jolt of pain through my midsection. I try to grab the back of a chair to keep from hitting the ground, but it falls with me, and the metal frame hits me in the cheek.

I cover my ribs and curl into the fetal position, waiting for more.

It’s like high school all over again.

“There’s a line for a reason, dipshit! You aren’t better than anyone, and you sure as hell aren’t getting your coffee before me.”

There’s so much venom in his voice that I curl into an even tighter ball even though my ribs are screaming in pain.

Please just do it and get it over with.

Loser!

Freak!

“Hey. What’s going on?”

I peek over my arm and see Shane standing next to the same bald guy who knocked me over the other day.

Oh God.

They’re both jocks and are probably about to tag team beating the shit out of me.

I start to shake, so I tuck my head back behind my arm and try not to tense up.

It’ll only make it worse.

They say something to each other, but I can’t hear it over the sound of my heart beating in my ears. My rapid breathing makes my ribs feel like they’re splitting.

Just kick me in the head so I can be knocked out.

Chapter Six

Shane

One thing I can’t stand is bullying. Especially in college. We’re all adults yet some people still feel the need to hurt others so they can feel good about themselves. It’s pathetic.

Dean Fisher used to be the middle linebacker for the football team. But he couldn’t keep up with his grades and was kicked off the team in the middle of the season last year. And he’s been a huge dick since.

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