Page 2 of Killer (Project)

“Roger, let go of her.” There was vengeance in Diesel’s eyes, and his voice was stronger than I had ever heard it. He moved to the edge of his seat and leaned over gripping Roger by the shoulder.

“Get your hand the hell off me, cripple…” Roger rolled his shoulders, forcing Diesel’s hand to fall away. He lifted his hand forming a fist as if he were going to hit him. I knew I couldn’t allow that to happen, so I tried to distract him. I grabbed Roger’s wrist, prying his touch from my thigh, as I watched him lower his raised fist.

“If you ever get done playing with the crippled boy…” Roger gazed at Diesel out of the corner of his eye as if to send a warning. “You know where to find me,” he whispered the ending of his sentence into my ear causing my hair to stir. I could feel the heat from his breath against my skin, and it made me skin itch. I wanted to sneer at him, tell him I would never give into him, I would never be like one of the many girls I went to school with.

Instead, I turned my attention to the window, clenching my fists while counting to ten. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him watch me for a mere second, his eyes eating away at my body. Then he slipped from my seat and into his regular seat a ways back.

I released the breath I was holding, allowing fresh oxygen to filter into my lungs. Roger was a monster, the living, breathing kind your parents forgot to tell you about. The kind that had the power to make your life a living hell, day in and day out—and he did just that.

“I told you not to stick up for me.” Diesel’s voice was right next to me, and as I turned around to see where he was, I came face to face with him. His dark hair was long and slung back in a ponytail. He was looking at me with anger in his eyes, anger I had never seen in him before. A shudder ran through me as I bit my lip unsure of what I should say.

“Well, I told you I wouldn’t let them pick on you anymore. They don’t know what they’re saying. They’re dumb.” They looked at Diesel as an outcast because he didn’t talk to others. But what they didn’t realize was him not talking to others had to do with the cancer that surged through his veins. They didn’t understand, in Diesel’s eyes, there was no point in making memories he may not be here for tomorrow.

“They know what they’re saying, Maggie.” He scoffed, his attention going back toward the front of the bus as if to make it seem like he wasn’t paying an ounce of attention to me.

“You always try to see the good in people; you always try to protect the weak. What you don’t understand is I don’t need protecting.” He turned back toward me, his eyes boring into mine, willing me to understand what he was saying. The problem was I didn’t want to understand—I just wanted to help. I could feel emotions I had never felt before finding their way to the surface.

“You can’t save everything. You can’t save me,” he hissed out. My gaze slid down to his clenched fists and over his body, which was built tightly like a rubber band ready to snap, like a man filled with aggression. I understood his pain though. His anger was evident. I knew he didn’t want to be protected, he didn’t want even one friend if there was a chance he would die—and there was. Every day since his diagnosis was an extra day given. Friends meant when you died, you would leave someone behind. You would have a reason to feel guilty about your death. He didn’t want that.

“I don’t want to save you, Diesel,” I murmured staring intensely into his eyes. His attention shifted to me, the look in his eyes reminding me of waves crashing against the sand on the beach.

“Yes, yes, you do. You. The doctors. My parents. They all want to save me. Everyone wants me to live—except me.” There was so much agony in the words he was saying. It was as if he knew his fate and fighting it was inevitable.

“That isn’t true—” My words cut off, as his hand landed on my knee gripping it. He wasn’t hurting me, but he easily could have. Even if he was sick, he still held strength behind his touch, behind his words.

“It is true. Believe me when I say it’s true. I know what you all think. I know you assume sticking up for me makes it better, maybe you even think if you’re nice to me, when I die, God will grant you something special.” He was sneering now, his words forced out between his teeth.

“That’s not the p—” My words were cut off again as he squeezed my knee. The pain radiated up my leg, and I bit my lip to stifle the cry that wanted to escape my mouth.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Maggie. I don’t want to do anything to ruin you, but whatever you think is going on between us, isn’t. Whatever help you think you can offer me, you can’t. In the end, you’re only going to hurt yourself and bring more attention to me. The attention I have no need to seek.”

My mind was blank. Like a chalkboard that had been wiped clean. I had nothing to say—at least, nothing that would be worth saying. He didn’t care. He didn’t want support. Even though it broke my heart to see others beat him with their words and hands, there was nothing I could do to save someone who didn’t want to be saved. He was right… I was putting my nose somewhere it wasn’t needed.I had been for the past six months now. Since the day when his parents came out and told everyone he had been battling cancer the last four years. We all knew there was something going on. He was missing school all the time, losing weight, and his demeanor had taken a major hit. He hated everyone and everything.

“Do you understand me?” he asked softly. His voice caressed my body in a blanket of warmth. He didn’t realize the good he could produce, the good he had the chance to bestow upon others.

I nodded my head, willing away the tears that were on the verge of slipping from my eyes. Be strong. Give him what he wants.

“Good,” he said satisfied with the conversation. His hand slipped from my knee, as I had to force myself not to rub it from the pain.

The rest of the bus ride consisted of me sitting in the far corner of my seat staring out the window pretending his body heat wasn’t what I was feeling next to me. I forced myself not to lash out and say something to him—something that would only push him further away.

As we pulled up to the school, and the bus came to a stop, my heart felt as if it were going to beat out of my chest.

“Remember what I said, Maggie.” His voice was a whisper in the wind as he got out of the seat and pushed in line to get off the bus.

He said nothing more to me, and even as he looked at me now, I knew he wouldn’t. At least not after this conversation. The words he had said would be the last he would ever speak to me unless I provoked him.

I couldn’t force myself to move. It was as if I had lost all control of my body.

Eventually, I found my bearings and slipped into the back of the line, my mind drifting to Diesel’s words. I can’t be saved…

Maybe he didn’t think he could be saved. Maybe he didn’t think he was worth it, but I did. I saw it when I looked into his eyes. I felt it whenever he would touch me, and somewhere in the depths of his soul, even though he was telling me he couldn’t be saved… in his soul, he was screaming for someone to save him.

Diesel was worth saving—he just didn’t know it yet.

two

maggie—the present

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