Teacup and Bullets

 

As soon as the door closed behind us my heart started hammering ‘In my Hands’ against the bars of my chest. That’s not to say my panic level was any less, you know, freaking out. Daman was kneeling in front of me, his back against the door and his chest rising and falling in heavy succession, not like there was a particular reason I was looking at his chest…or anything.

 

I collapsed onto the floor, as silence descended over the library.

 

In my hand, in my hands

 

“Where’s Hudson?” My voice came out breathless, riding on the panic building in my chest. Daman gave me a quick, quirked look. In his dark angular features I could read the sentence: ‘Who the hell cares?’ I felt my brows darken over my eyes, attempting to convey ‘I care!’ but probably communicating ‘I need to go to the toilet’

 

Daman’s brow wrinkled.

 

“Now really isn’t the time to go to the little girl’s room.”

 

I’m on top of the world

 

Inwardly I groaned, shivering in the cool air, filtered through the white beast that hung in the corner, the setting up too high as always. I looked at Daman, my eyes magnetised to him. He was crouched against the door, ear pressed tightly to the cheap wood.

 

“What the hell are you doing?” I whispered, my voice awkward in the silence. Daman quirked one perfect eyebrow in thoughtfulness.

 

“I think I found Hudson.” Each word was drawn out, like the sentence was solidifying even as he spoke. My brain barely had time to digest the sentence before Hudson’s hand slammed into the wood, rattling hard on the door.

 

There were gasps and it was only then I realised that logic dictated that other people would be inhabiting the same hideout.  I turned quickly around, taking in the grey expanse of carpet dotted with islands of desks, the people taking sanctuary there. Shoved against the white back wall was the line of computers, the electronic buzz loud in the frosty silence, I could see the hunched black shadows, people whispering excitedly.

 

It felt wrong, the buzz of excitement. People had died and some idiots were high on adrenaline, treating life like a joke, spitting on their graves.

 

But the girls just like you just don’t get it

 

Whilst I was busy dwelling on the dead, Daman was busy worrying about the living. Although Hudson’s hand had grazed the cold touch of sanctuary, the rest of his body failed to follow and, in the middle of a lockdown, didn’t exactly paint picturesque relief on my face.

 

‘Coz tonight’s about us, about love, about lust

 

I couldn’t react, and nothing more than a single, doleful thought flickered across my brain, when the horrific ferocity of another death, slammed its way into reality. I pushed myself up against the wall, closing my eyes until I could only see pin points of light. My head span, twirling around in a blackened haze until my breathing got heavy and my world started to tilt. I couldn’t deal with this. Not another one.

 

Hudson Tills. 17. Self-appointed king of St Elizabeth Senior School. Arrogant, pig headed, racist and sickly charismatic. There wasn’t one single part of me that felt a single drop of pity for him when he had a major split with bitch leader Millie Rosie but now that Hudson Tills had officially changed into past tense I couldn’t help feeling sorry for him, the enormous raw emotional ice of pity paralysing my heart.

 

And I promise I’ll never forget it.

 

“His dead.” I didn’t mean to say it out loud, the words slipped through my ‘inward speech’ barrier, escaping on a whisper into the real life world. Daman’s head quirked to look at me, his eyes unbelievably dark and hot. He liked this, the excitement.

 

You think that I’m crazy

 

Crazy McDaman lifted up the corner of his mouth, giving me a heart pounding crooked smile. “Good riddance.” Before I could start to tell him how wrong it was to even think something as horrible as that, Daman pushed open the door with his shoulder and let most of his body follow, exposing himself to fire. For three of the slowest seconds all I could see was his shoulder moving erratically in its socket. Wildly, my brain searched desperately for something else to think of, anything but what was going on around me.

 

What would happen if I started to jig, right here right now? What would the students think? Having been put through the lockdown bell, seeing me and Daman pant into the room, seeing Daman leave and then having my wonderful, extremely coordinated dancing be the moulding icing on top of their something-funky’s-growing-on-that cake?

 

I think you’re insane

 

I was torn away from my wacko train of thought when Daman made a very appealing grunting sound and fell back into the room, holding a bloody Hudson in his arms.

 

Wait, what?

 

The door swung shut after them; the bang lost in the sound of the two boys disgruntled voices. Hudson somehow detangled himself from the panting Daman, and both of them rolled on their backs, closing their eyes and gulping gratefully at the air. Amazed as I was to see Hudson alive, I couldn’t help feel a little peeved that no one bothered to update me on the upcoming events. It was a bit like when all your friends get the school calendar emails accept you. Yeah, it sounds petty but trust me, it hurts.

 

“Screw you, Hudson. I thought you were on the football team.” Daman’s voice was punctured with the soft outtake of breath, his chest reaching lower limits than it was before.

 

“You try running with a bullet in your leg, Winters. Not so much fun.”

 

I was about to point out that there was a piece of glass lodged in my leg that was making it go kind of numb and I still made it when Daman sat up abruptly, his silky raven strands falling back into place perfectly, bar the stick of sweat and the rumples of exercise.

 

“Great. Out of the entire high school civilisation, I get stuck with you. Hudson Tills. Prom King.” This time Hudson sat up, groaning at the pain in his leg. I could see the clunky rivers of blood flattening the fine hairs on his leg, and in the middle there was something dark centred in between, something I didn’t dare to examine further.

 

“You’re just, ow shit, jealous that you’re not popular enough to be in the running.” Despite the pain it obviously caused him, Hudson gave the oh, so clever retort, clutching his leg and swearing under his breath. I gawked at the wound. I didn’t see how the whole hand-on-blood thing was helping. All it looked like to me was that Hudson was adding the macabre touch of bloody handprints to his grotesque leg.

 

So take your hand in mine

 

Daman, ignoring all signs of physical trauma, decided the best way to treat the patient was with a large dose of sarcasm.

 

“Totally, cause that’s what I aspire to in life.” He raised an elegant hand to his head, making a gun with the fingers.

 

“Dude,” I said so both their heads snapped to look at me. “There are actual madmen running around the school with real guns. Do not joke about that kind of stuff.”

 

Daman gave me a look, the message undetermined, something dark and hooded in his deep, blue eyes. “Sorry Roze, I forgot you were there.”

 

And whisper my name

 

I shook off the lingering feeling that sentence gave me, instead directing my gaze at Hudson, who was gritting his teeth in attempt to dam up the wave of pain that was obviously circulating around his body. I had no idea what to say, what would appease him. Are you okay?  Was much too naïve and simple but nothing else intelligent or helpful came into my mind. I just sat there, the alabaster wall digging into my back and the bloody waterfall blurring into the distance as I thought of Joe and the heroism that saved my life. He deserves the immortalisation the stars get.  I thought, the distinct smudge of tears rubbing at my eyes. And he did a lot more than sing and dance.

 

“Don’t mind me, I’m just dying.” Reality aligned again, only to show me that Hudson Tills was staring at me, the sarcastic amusement smothering the pain for the brief hint of a second. I felt my cheeks inflame, totally against my will of course. I don’t aim to be the girl who dissolved into giggles and hair flicks as soon as a hot guy looks at me.

 

“Sorry, I just…Do you need any help?” It was Daman who answered, giving me a look drenched in acidy sarcasm.

 

“No, Cinderella. He likes the bullet in his leg. It’s soothing.” Automatically, I rolled my eyes at him, already shuffling awkwardly over. I wonder why anyone hasn’t come over yet? I mean, three teens, two injured? I’m pretty sure the teacher’s handbook doesn’t say to just leave them there.

 

Disney should so totally hire me, because at that moment a timid looking girl came over, her mousy brown hair tucked hazardly behind her ears. Mercifully, she held a roll of bandages and some funky looking medicine in her hand. She held them out like a peace offering, her ashen face frightened.

 

“Sorry it took so long,” She said as I accepted her gifts. “Miss Gem didn’t know where the first aid kit was.” She gave me a tender smile which I returned, bringing myself closer to Hudson Tills.

 

I never thought I would say that.

 

“I did so know where they were. I just had to remember where I put them.” Mrs Gem, the school librarian, came over, her entrance the signal for the gate of chatter to be opened.

 

Before I continue, let me just say that Mrs Gem isn’t exactly your typical librarian. Her bright pink hair was tied in a high ponytail, so high that the bits at the top fell loose and tickled her painted white face, her lips adorned with a lipstick love heart and her black/purple eyes adjourned heavy handed mascara. Today she was wearing knee high leather boots that were laced together with black satin laces, the heels clunky and very Goth sheek. Her dress was not-dress-code tight fitting at the top and loose nearer her second half, the netted material only brushing her knees in composure of a mixture of black lace, black satin and black stripes. He fingerless gloves were leather, the soft imprint of a smiley face vampire caressed into the middle.

 

Hudson, who had never even been in the library before, was looking at her like she had just kissed him full on the mouth, the pain in his leg forgotten.

 

“Take a photo, kid. It’ll last longer.” She said in her high pitched scrape, kneeling down beside me and winking as the buzz of chatter filled the room.

 

“Let me do that, Summers. Call it my patriotic duty.” Miss Gem took the bandages and medicine off me and started dressing Chase’s leg. It was probably a good thing too because I was about to force the stuff down Hudson’s mouth.

 

Oh darling you fixed me

 

It was odd, how the atmosphere had changed. The air before was stiff and ridged but now it seemed more relaxed, a sense of comfort entwined in every particle. Of course no one had dared move from their hiding spots and the whispers weren’t very loud, but the attitude of the room was certainly a lot friendlier. Call me a nerd but, hey! Books are your friend.

 

I perched on my knees, watching Miss Gem patch up Hudson expertly, like she had done this a million times before. It was then, at that exact moment, that an epiphany struck me like a lightning strike.

 

“Crap, where’s the crazy, you know, gun dude? Wasn’t he, like, hot on your tails?” I glanced behind me at the door, just in case he was sneaking up and the rest of the room’s inhabitants had decided not to tell me.

 

Now let’s run away

 

Daman looked away from Hudson’s leg, only to give me a quirked, sarcastic raise of eyebrows.

 

“You only just realised that now? Smart one, you are.” I felt the heat rise to my cheeks, the only warmth in the cool, murmuring air.

 

“Can you just answer my question please?” Despite my eyes being glues to Daman, it was Hudson king of the hills who answered, gritting his teeth and avoiding looking at his newly cleaned bullet wound. Can’t say I was so eager to look at it myself. Purposefully, I redirected my eyes to his face, staring intently.

 

“He ran off, ‘coz we’re just so freaking scary.” My head snapped to Daman for confirmation.

 

“Grrr.” He said, scrunching up his face and raising a hand in a paw like gesture.

 

“Scary,” Miss Gem said, momentarily looking up from mummifying Hudson’s leg. “I’m practically quaking.”  Both boys sent her reproachful looks.

 

“What really happened?” I added, trying to disguise the laughter in my voice.

 

“The skeptism in this room,” Daman said, shaking his head. “Unbelievable.” He was sprawled casually on the greying carpet, both his sexy, sexy knees pulled up to his chest.

 

“I kicked him in the gut and he fled.” Hudson claimed with a casual shrug of his broad football sculptured shoulders.  The skeptism in my mind was untameable and seeped through my voice like water through a sponge.

 

“You kicked him? And he, what? Ran away? He had a gun, why didn’t he, you know…” I made a small gun with my hands and aimed it at him. Hudson eyes were blank, besides the hint of pain hiding underneath.

 

“I used to think you were shy.” Daman, who had remained detached out of the conversation suddenly tuned in, raising a salute-d hand in agreeance.

 

“Maybe I don’t like wasting my words on people who can’t understand them.” There was a silence that blanketed over the two boys as my words sank in.

 

“Burned to a crisp, boys!” Miss Gem cooed, hanging both hands above her head in a rock-on symbol. She finished bandaging up Hudson leg and now all that was left there were a couple of off coloured bandages and a small blossom of blood of the right centre.

 

So take your hand in mine

 

“Great, sassed out by a librarian.” Does that boy have any concept of respect? Or even wit?

 

Hell no.

 

“Oh, your poor thing. If you speak like that, I’m going to have to kick you out.” Hudson spluttered, as in if he was drinking coffee, he would have spat it out. Miss Gem smiled evilly, the small heart stretching across her powdered lips.

 

“But there’s Mr I-snort-ecstasy running around with a gun! I’ll die!” Miss Gem gave a shrug of her shoulders and Daman gave a very attractive snort.

 

“He’s gun isn’t even loaded, genius. Why do you think he threw at my head?” Hudson decided to resume an injured silence rather than reply to such a petty comment. Screw him.

 

I looked around the library, at Miss Gem and Daman laughing at Hudson, at the students, thawed out and conversational, at the books who had been my best friends since the very beginning. I felt something. Something strange and warm and kind of…nice.

 

I felt safe.

 

Of course the one time I feel like the stars are aligning right, the pain in my-not-so-numb leg suddenly shot to an unbearable level and I screamed, so hard and loud that my vision whited out and I fell to the floor, my last impression of Damn’s worried face rushing up towards me before I sank into unconsciousness.

 

I need you to stay