Page 53 of Saving Sparrow
Quentin turned the engine off, winking at me before getting out. Miguel waited for me to step out before exiting from the back.
I held on to the straps of my backpack like they were a life raft as we joined the students heading inside. Quentin and Miguel flanked me, and luckily, no one seemed to notice we existed yet. That changed as soon as we stepped inside.
Locker doors slammed from every direction, a cluster of girls squealed as they group-hugged, voices buzzed, and the stampeding of feet up and down the stairwells raised the noise level higher than I was used to.
Teachers began breaking up conversations, directing students to where they needed to be.
“Five minutes until the bell rings,” someone yelled through a bullhorn, startling me.
“That’s the principal,” Miguel said. “Everyone calls him Mr. Ballbuster.”
“Yeah, he can smell fun from a mile away,” Quentin joked as we moved through the crowd of people. As if some secret announcement that the three of us couldn’t hear had been made, the attention turned to us.
Loud conversations lowered to whispers as students tapped their friends and pointed at us. Miguel and Quentin closed in tighter until their bodies brushed against mine. I tried to catch Quentin’s gaze for reassurance, but he was too busy glaring down at everyone we passed.
“Fuck around and find out,” he said to no one in particular. That seemed to shake everyone out of their trances.
“New kids are always fascinating. They’ll forget about you in minutes,” Miguel said, trying to make me feel better about all the gawking. “Oh, here’s my locker.” He opened it using the combination of numbers printed at the top of his schedule, then dumped his books inside. “What’s your locker number again?”
I slipped my bag off, pulling my schedule from the side flap. “Twenty-four.”
“That’s right down here,” Miguel said, leading the way. He ran through how to lock and unlock it twice before helping me unload thebooks I wouldn’t need until later. Quentin kept his back to us, his stance wide, playing bodyguard.
“You good?” he asked as Miguel and I prepared to separate from him.
I took a deep breath, tucking a loose strand from my braid behind my ear. “Yeah, I think so.”
He looked at Miguel next.
“I’m good too. I’m gonna miss you.” They stepped closer, like they were going to hug each other, then stopped. “See you after homeroom,” Miguel said.
“Yeah, okay.” Quentin turned to me. “Anyone fucks with you, tell them you’re mine.”
I peered around to make sure no one heard him, and he chuckled before walking away. Telling me to say we were friends would’ve worked well too, but he and Miguel had such an odd way of phrasing things. I liked it when we were alone, but now I worried it would somehow bring more attention to me. I admired how little they cared about what people thought of them. Maybe I would too after getting used to this new environment.
Homeroom didn’t last long. We took attendance and listened to a few important announcements over the intercom system. First period was a lot scarier because we hadn’t gotten there in time to get a seat in the back.
“Next time we won’t wait for Quentin to walk us,” Miguel whispered as we took the two remaining seats in the front.
I could feel everyone’s eyes on my back, and my whole body heated with embarrassment when a girl asked, “Is he praying?” She’d said it loud enough for everyone else to hear.
I didn’t realize I’d brought my palms together when I’d closed my eyes. The rest of the class laughed as I slid my hands beneath the table and looked helplessly at Miguel.
The teacher ordered everyone to quiet down. Miguel turned, shoving his glasses up his nose as he stared them all down.
I wanted to go home. I wanted to hide from the world with Quentin and Miguel.
I barely made it through my last period. I was alone and opted out of changing into my PE uniform and participating. A group of guys watched me, whispering as they ran up and down the basketball court.The larger one’s name was Dexter. I remembered him raising his hand when his name was called during attendance. Dexter Delaney.
The girls watched me too, but their stares seemed more curious, not calculating like the guys.
Our PE teacher informed me, in front of the whole class, that I’d received a zero for the day.
Since I didn’t have to change, I grabbed my backpack and hurried into the hall while everyone else headed for the locker rooms. The three guys followed me out, still wearing their gym uniforms.
“Hey, your name’s Elliott, right?” Dexter asked. We still had a full minute before the bell rang, so the halls weren’t swarming with people yet. I was supposed to wait for Miguel and Quentin outside the gym doors, but I continued toward my locker to get away from Dexter and his friends.
“Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s rude not to speak when being spoken to?” the second biggest of the three asked. I couldn’t remember his name. They all chuckled at that. “I think someone needs to teach the pretty redhead some manners.”
