Page 10 of When He Saved Me
“I love you, Finn.”
“Love you too.” I cleared my throat. “I really do have to go.”
She let go of my hand, and I turned to walk out of the room, but her voice made me pause.
“Just…think about giving him a chance, okay?”
I nodded once and walked out the door.
CHAPTER5
JAMIE
When I was seven,I was sent to the principal’s office. In all my school years, it was the one and only time. I was devastated. And terrified.
I’d always been taught to be respectful of others, especially teachers since my mom was one and I was terrified of how they would react.
It was a Tuesday in December, and there was a buzz in the air. Winter break was just days away and you could almost taste the excitement of the children in my classroom.
I arrived at the classroom, hung my coat and backpack on hook number 18, and made my way to my desk to begin my bell-ringer activity. I loved school. I loved reading and writing, and while math wasn’t my favorite, I was decent at it. Art, Music, PE, recess…I loved all of it. I was friends with most everyone in my classroom, and as an only child, I loved having others to play with.
But on this Tuesday, I pulled up short. A new desk had been added next to mine in our pod, and a boy was sitting in the seat. I looked at the name printed neatly across the name tag on the upper left corner of his desk: Asher. Excitement burst through me at the prospect of making a new friend.
I approached him, pulling out my chair and sitting down. “Hello,” I said with a smile. “I’m Jamie. Well, it’s actually James, but everyone calls me Jamie.”
I frowned when he didn’t respond. Thinking maybe he hadn’t heard me, I reached out to tap his shoulder, attempting to get his attention that way, but he shrugged me off, scooting his chair farther away.
I was baffled. I’d never had someone react this way to me. I’d always made friends easily. People liked me. It…hurt.
I got to work on my bell ringer, but I kept peeking at him out of the corner of my eye. Asher had dark curly hair that he kept brushing out of his eyes, and I noticed his red hoodie was stained and dirty with frayed edges on his cuffs. Just above the collar of the T-shirt underneath his hoodie, I could see a bruise peeking out, and I wondered how he got a bruise in such an odd place. I got bruises all the time, but I’d never had one on my neck.
The morning proceeded as usual, and pretty soon, I was immersed in our studies. We started with calendar, then reading and math, and then it was time for lunch. Asher had ignored me all morning, but I was determined to make him my friend. Standing behind him in the hot lunch line, I tapped him once again, intending to ask him to sit at my table. Startled, he turned and shoved me backward, causing me to bump into Charlie and Amanda, who were a grade higher and had joined the line after our class.
“Hey!” I exclaimed, surprised by the shove.
“Don’t touch me!” he said, his voice laced with anger.
“I was just trying to invite you to sit with me,” I fired back. My blood was pumping with adrenaline, and I didn’t like how it felt, but I couldn’t help it. I was so mad.
“Stop trying to be my friend. I don’t need you.”
My jaw dropped. My eyes burned with tears. No one had ever spoken to me that way.
“Everybody needs a friend.”
“Well, I don’t.”
The line moved forward, and we both got our lunches and made our way to the tables. My stomach dropped when I realized there were only two seats left at our grade-level table, one across from the other. At this point, I no longer wanted anything to do with Asher, and not only would I be forced to sit near him, but I’d have to look at his stupid face while I did it.
We crossed over to the table and sat down. One of my friends tried to talk to me, but I wasn’t in the mood, so I turned my body away from the table, facing away from my classmates. I nibbled at my food but wasn’t really hungry. My stomach was knotted with anxiety.
One of the cafeteria supervisors began dismissing tables to head outside for recess. Asher’s side of the table was dismissed first. He stood and gathered his tray, making his way over to the trashcans, but because of the way I had angled my body into the aisle, his foot caught on mine, and he tripped.
I watched in horror as he hit the ground, his tray landing underneath him as he fell. He sat up, and we both looked down at where he was covered in ketchup. A few other kids started laughing, and his eyes filled with tears. “You tripped me!” he shouted at me.
My eyes widened, and I shook my head. “No! It was an accident.”
“No, it wasn’t. You did it on purpose!” He stood and approached me, hands clenched in rage, angry tears running down his red face.
