Page 2 of Saving Tracey
Kaleb was well-known around the school for playing football, basketball, and running track. It was common knowledge to pretty much everyone that he lived with his single mom in a two-story house in the better part of the county–closer to the city. He had a twin sister named Krista and a fourteen-year-old sister named Emily.
I had seen him around school a lot, but this was my first class ever with him, considering he was normally in all advanced classes.
Now that I thought about it, I was actually kind of shocked to see him in this class.
"A new girl took the seat that I was planning on sitting in, so I was wondering if this seat next to you was free?" he asked me with a small, non-threatening smile, gesturing to the seat next to me.
I opened my mouth a couple of times to answer him, but no sound would come out. So, I just nodded my head dumbly and quickly turned my face away from him, not wanting to make myself look any stupider. I moved my hair over my shoulder so that he couldn't see my face and fixed my scarf to make sure the scars and bruises on my neck weren't visible to him or anyone else that may have been looking.
I didn't want questions, and I wasn't going to chance him asking them.
"I've never seen you around. Are you new, too?" Kaleb's deep, smooth voice asked from beside me.
I shook my head, hoping he would get the hint that I really didn't want to talk to him. I always played mute when people had tried speaking to me in the past, and I was hoping that it would work with him too, considering I really just wanted to be left alone.
I should have known better, though. If Kaleb was known for anything, he was known for his kind heart.
The teacher stepped into the classroom and shut the door loudly behind her, making me jump in my seat in fright. I fisted my hands on my lap, desperately trying to contain the panic attack that had almost happened. I took a deep, calming breath and slowly and silently released it, trying to calm the racing beat of my heart, imagining my fear clutched in my small fists–contained and controlled.
The teacher's heels clicked against the tile floor as she crossed the room to stand in front of her desk, and I gritted my teeth against the sound.
I fucking hated loud noises.
"Okay, class. Welcome to the new year! How is everyone's year going so far?" the teacher asked in her loud, nasally voice.
There were some great and some other not-so-great answers in response to her question. I just kept my mouth shut.
"Well, since this is a new semester and a new class, starting here on the first row and going across, I want everyone to introduce themselves and give us all three interesting facts about yourself." I rolled my eyes at the cliché, typical introduction almost every single teacher did. Students began groaning and complaining in protest. She shot the entire class a stern look. "You will do it, or I will make you write a four-page essay over why you decided to start this semester off badly and have it signed by your parents, do I make myself clear?" she snapped.
The protests went silent after that remark. She gave us all a bright smile as if she hadn't just had a complete mood swing and began to introduce herself to us.
Mood swing much?
If it had been my choice, I would have just chosen to write the four-page paper, but I didn't have a computer, and I wasn't allowed to stay after school or come to school early. And the school was pretty strict on papers being typed and printed out.
Fuck. My. Life.
I was going to have to do this stupid activity and let everyone know that I existed and risk the chance that someone might try to get to know me. I preferred to be invisible.
No, scratch that. Ineededto be invisible.
When people realized you existed, people wanted to be friends.
They would want to talk to me. They would be curious about me.
Then, before you knew it, child services and school counselors would be pulling me out of class to talk to me and knocking on my front door.
When it got to my turn, I swallowed hard, feeling my palms begin to sweat as my anxiety soared to all-new levels.
Just come off cold and uncaring and no one will try to talk to you, I reminded myself.
I didn't get up like everyone else did. I just clenched my hands into fists under my desk and looked at a blank spot on the wall instead of looking at the rest of my classmates.
I had to be cold and indifferent.
"My name is Tracey Olive,” I began. "I live with both of my parents. I don't have any pets, and I'm an only child,” I stated in a deadpan tone of voice, desperately trying to be as evasive and as boring as possible about who I was.
Before anyone could ask me any questions, Kaleb spoke up beside me. I breathed a slight sigh of relief, silently thanking him in my mind for speaking up. "I'm Kaleb Brinson. I live with my mom. I have a twin sister and a younger little sister. I play football, basketball, and I run track."
