Chapter 3 - Newbie

At first I thought I was dreaming – engulfed in murky images of golden light that felt more like a gentle caress – until a deep voice sounding as if it came from away penetrated the silence.

“Chaos, can you hear me?” the voice inquired with a general lack of concern.

Drifting back to reality, I gradually became aware of my surroundings. Realization that my body laid all sprawled out on the floor, and the reason why, came flooding back to me. My breath hitched as both eyes flew open. Scrambling to get away from my attacker, I kicked off with both feet in one swift motion, causing my back to skid briefly along the floor in a backwards motion, until my head crashed into the bottom edge of a row of lockers.

“Ouch!” I wasn’t dreaming. The pain was real.

“Are you okay?” This question from a female.

Why do people insist on asking such stupid questions? If I’m passed out on the floor, do you really think I’m okay?

“Yeah,” I grumbled. It wasn't worth arguing about. Besides, what did she expect me to say? I just felt like taking a nap.

Shaking the remaining cobwebs from my brain, I finally recognized the first voice. I also knew it didn’t belong to a teenager. It had way too much authority. Gee, I wasn't sure which was worse; passing out at school after being attacked, or being discovered by the Punisher. I decided it was a toss up.

“Don’t try to get up too fast,” Mr. Gonzer insisted.

“I’m okay,” I lied. Ignoring him, I sat up anyway – hands skipping nervously over my body as I checked for injuries. No obvious broken bones. Neck still in tact. And when I held up my hands, I wasn't covered in blood. Bonus!

Free of injuries with just one tiny exception. My head hurt like hell.

Ever so hesitantly, I swung my gaze left then right, searching the hallway for my assailant. Thankfully, Beastie was gone.

I realized only then that I'd been holding my breath and exhaled deeply. With my over active senses still on high alert, I wanted...no, scratch that...I needed to know whether or not Beastie was coming back. I hated surprises.

Mr. Gonzer cleared his throat. I glanced up for the first time to see him standing next to some girl I didn’t know. Unless I’d hit my head harder than I thought.

I snuck a peak at her again.

Nope, definitely didn’t know her. Lovely. As if passing out wasn’t bad enough, I had to be found by a newbie. This day just keeps getting better and better.

I smiled up innocently at Gonzer as if it was normal to find me lying on the floor when I was supposed to be in class. But judging between the flint hard look in his steel-gray eyes – not to mention the frown tugging at the corners of his mouth – he wasn’t buying my act.

Geez, what was it gonna take to get a little sympathy around here?

“Let me help you,” Mr. Gonzer said in a tight voice, thrusting one perfectly sculpted arm in my face. For a school principal, he was pretty ripped. But for a human, he had about as much compassion as a rock. Or maybe he was still pissed from our last encounter. Either way, I definitely didn't want him touching me.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” He didn't make it a question so much as a demand.

I considered telling him the truth and then realized how it would sound. "A guy that used to go to our school and who, by the way, is no longer alive – but still breathing ferociously – just tried to make me dead."

Nah. Better keep that little bit of information to myself. For now anyway.

“I tripped,” I mumbled, staring at Gonzer's offered hand. Truth be told, I didn't like touching people. Period.

Unfortunately, my legs felt like rubber and I knew I couldn't get up on my own. So with no other option, I took a deep breath – holding it as I accepted his hand.

Just as I'd expected. Gonzer's touch was scalding hot, just like his personality. I not only sensed, but felt his anger toward me for embarrassing him. Simmering just beneath the surface, I became convinced that the only reason he'd held himself in check this long was because a witness was present.

Otherwise, I'd be toast.

Lifting me off the ground, he didn’t help me up so much as yank me to my feet like a sack of potatoes.

Big mistake. The sudden movement had been so unexpectedly jolting that the hall started to swirl around me before fading to black.

Oh no, not again!

My knees gave out and just as I was about to fall, Gonzer wrapped one iron-like arm firmly around my waist, while another finger hoisted me up by the belt loops.

Yes, on one hand I was thankful he’d saved me from kissing the floor with my face. But trying to look cool with a serious wedgie happening in front of the newbie was out.

As I leaned helplessly against Gonzer's rock hard body waiting for my vision to return to normal, I felt every muscle in his chest pressing hard and firm against my body. I tried, but I couldn’t stop staring at his shirt. At least two sizes too small, the navy blue polo he wore with the Hastings High School emblem proudly displayed over his heart, was stretched so tightly across his bulging chest and arm muscles that it looked like it could burst apart at any moment.

It became obvious to me only then that he'd borrowed a clean shirt from someone else. Someone much, much smaller than him.

“Do you want to sit in my office?” Gonzer asked, voice abrasive as if he'd caught me doing something wrong.

Since when was fainting a crime?

I quickly regained my senses. “I’d rather be hung upside down by my toenails than sit in your office,” is what I wanted to say. Instead of mouthing off I took a deep breath, willed myself to stand up straight, and answered with a simple, “I’m good.”

Sometimes, simple was better.

Gonzer hesitated, then slowly released his protective grip as if afraid I might fall over again. I was happy to disappoint him. Finally convinced I could stand on my own two squishy feet, he turned his attention to the newbie.

“Chaos Killbourne, I want you to meet, Carmen Montgomery. Her family just moved here from Los Angeles, California.”

Carmen nodded. “Wassup?” Letting my name sink in, she wrinkled her brow. "What's the matter? Your parents not like you or somethin'?"

Yeah, as if I'd never heard that one before. I shot her a sideways glance. “What possessed your parentals to leave LA and come to "Hickville?” The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them.

Mr. Gonzer glared at me in disapproval. Grown-ups didn't like it when we made fun of their town. I could almost hear them droning now.

“Hastings, Michigan – voted one of the best 100 small towns in America, proudly located in the middle of America’s Heartland.”

Blah blah blah, whatever. My point remained the same. It didn't get much more hickier than "Hickville."

I flashed Carmen a wicked grin. “I mean…how do you like Hastings?”

She smiled back, looking uncomfortable. “It’s like living on another planet.”

I bet.

I had to give her props for speaking her mind in front of the Gonz. Besides, what kid in their right mind would rather live in Michigan than California? With rosy cheeks, a golden tan, and long, sun-kissed hair the color of honey, you had to be a moron not to know Carmen worshiped the sun.

I also couldn’t help noticing just how dark her skin looked against the bright-white color of her shorts and the white flip-flops she wore. A pretty peach top with ruffles completed her outfit, while at the same time the color further complamented her glowing skin. She looked barfably adorable.

I guess somebody didn't get the memo that it was cold in Michigan this time of year. It may have been only October, but the wind chill made it feel more like January.

Truth be told, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t secretly wish I looked more like her. I'd like to lie out in the sun all day and get a tan too. There was just one problem with that. Red heads don’t make good beach bunnies. For me, sunbathing was like marinating in a frying pan. I always ended up looking like a lobster.

But one thing's for sure, it had to be really annoying to walk around looking so nauseatingly perfect. I was just glad I didn't have that problem.

Reacting the exact same way as everyone else at my school, Carmen stared back at me like I was the star attraction of a freak show. And the sweet, sweet irony was that of all days to dress like a dork, I just happened to be wearing my favorite black T-shirt with the huge white letters in all caps that read, NORMAL PEOPLE SCARE ME.

I couldn't help but squirm under her intense gaze. Then, mysteriously, whatever had been holding her motionless, finally released its spell.

“Nice to meet you,” Carmen said, extending a delicately manicured hand.

We shared a long awkward silence. I had issues with shaking hands too. Not because I could read people's minds by touching them. I'd actually welcome that ability. No. It was more of the fact that when I came in contact with people, they had a way of leaking their emotional garbage all over me like toxic waste. School being the worst, of course. Surrounded by so much personal drama on a daily friggin' basis made me feel like a prisoner trapped in a perpetual windstorm of emotions.

Unfortunately, it didn't just happen from touching either. I also absorbed people's feelings if they got too close. Like some kind of human Sham Wow.

From what I could tell, the only benefit of experiencing the emotions of everyone I came in contact with, somehow saved me from the wreckage of having to face my own feelings of rejection. And, trust me, that was something I absolutely did not want to do. I was pissed-off 99% of the time anyway.

Ignoring Carmen’s hand, I quickly bent down to retrieve my papers and empty caffeine-fueled beverage containers, which had somehow been scattered all over the hall. I hoped (prayed was more like it) that no one noticed the dried blood on the floor.

Carmen surprised me badly when she started helping. Kneeling in such close proximity to her, either it was just my imagination, or she smelled like coffee. Toasted hazelnut to be exact.

Weird. I must have caffeine on the brain.

When finished, Carmen handed me my newly stuffed book bag. “Thanks,” I managed pathetically. Turning to Gonzer, I mumbled, “I’m sorry; I have to get to class.”

I walked away, beating myself up inside. Why the crap did I apologize to him? Could I help it if the man made me a little bit jumpy? Okay, a lot jumpy. I knew it was only a matter of time before the Punisher claimed his inevitible retribution.  

“Actually, Chaos,” Gonzer called out, interrupting my stream of mental babble. I stopped abruptly – pivoting about – my Reeboks squeaking loudly as they caught on the sticky floor. I almost fell smack over.

Almost, but not quite.

When I turned back around, if possible, my kool-aide cheeks revved into overdrive. “Huh?”

“Since fifth hour is almost over, I’m going to dismiss you for the day,” he explained, eyeballing me carefully. “Do you need someone to pick you up?”

Well, he was just full of surprises.

Instead of being grateful, I found myself wondering why he was being so nice. Maybe he was just bidding his time. Like the calm before the storm.

“No thanks, I'll walk,” I lied again. If I had a choice between my mother nagging at me to tell her why she had to come to school to pick me up early, and walking…Trust me, I would much rather walk the eight and a half miles home in peace and quiet – thank you very much.

Gonzer moved forward and patted me firmly on the shoulder. “Okay then, I’ll see you in the morning.” His voice may have sounded amiable, but the look in his eyes was pure darkness. Spinning around on his heels he walked away, leaving me to stare after him. A couple seconds later he must've realized that Carmen wasn’t following, because he barked her name as if expecting her to heel.

“The Gonz doesn’t like to be kept waiting,” I muttered.

Carmen regarded me evenly, obviously unaware of the danger of holding up the Punisher. Eyes narrowing, she asked, “Are you sure you’re gonna be okay? You look whiter than white bread.”

Gee, thanks.

“No, I’m fine. Really,” I insisted. “Pale, but fine.”

She hesitated. “See you tomorrow?”

I nodded.

Flashing me a mega-watt smile that made me suddenly wish I'd worn sunglasses, she turned and strutted away, hips swaying violently back and forth with each step. I lingered in the hallway watching her until she turned the corner. Part of me wondered how she managed not to hurt herself with a walk like that. The other part of me wondered if that would be the last time she ever talked to me. Of course, there was always the remote possibility that she wouldn’t believe all the gossip and rumors about me when she heard them.

Yeah, riiight. There wasn't a snowflakes chance in hell of that ever happening.