Chapter 11

 The next morning, Father woke me up, and told me that he had gotten me a new outfit. I asked him about it, and he'd just told me to put it on. So I did. It was a dress, and it came down to my knees. It was soft, and it cupped around my chest. It had spaghetti straps, I've heard that's what they're called, so I had to wear a wrap around my shoulders. Father told me it was a light blue color. 

        I had smiled. Blue had been Mom's favorite color. 

        When I got to school, I knew where I was going, but had a bit trouble finding exactly which locker was mine. Mr Poole showed me, and I thanked him.

        After grabbing my braille English book, I reached to close my locker, but was surprised when I heard it slam, and felt the air rush across my hand. I couldn't tell who had done it, there were too many people in the hallway. “Um...”

        “It's me.” Joshua said. “Sorry I slammed it, I didn't know these lockers had good hinges. They look kind of rusty, so I used a little more force then I probably needed to.”

        “You're rambling.” I said with a laugh.

        He laughs too. “I guess I was. What's your first class?”

        “I have English.” I say.

        “That sucks.” He complains. “My time table says I have English last.” 

        I laugh. “Maybe we have a different class together, who knows. I have to get to class though. The teachers think that since your Mom isn't with me anymore, I can be everywhere on time, as well as know where I'm going.”

        “That's how teachers are.” He says. “I'll see you after class then.”

        “Alright.” I say. 

        I turn away from him, to walk to my next class, but he grabs my hand and pulls me into a hug. 

        I laugh. “What is this for?” He lets go of me.

        “Sometimes, you just need a hug.”

        I laugh again. “Okay, but I really have to go now.”

        “Sure thing.” He says, and walks the opposite way.

        I turn around and bump into someone. “Oh, I'm sorry.” I say, bending over to pick up my dropped books.

        “You better be.” Nathan says. “Next time, how about you pay attention to where you're going instead of throwing yourself all over the new kids.”

        “What are you talking about?” I ask, angry.

        “You.” He says. “You just practically threw yourself onto him, it's disgusting.”

        I could've argued the fact that I indeed did not throw myself onto Joshua, but it was pointless. So instead I asked “Why do you care?”

        “Because I do.” Nathan yelled, and pushed me backwards. I would've fell if not for the pair of arms that wrapped around my waist. I dropped my book.

        “What's your problem, man?” Joshua asked, as he helped me stand upright again.

        “My problem is you,” Nathan said. “marching in here like you're all that. I own this school, and I do whatever I want. You got that?”

        Joshua slipped his hands form around my waist and stepped past me. “No,” He said. “I do not 'got that'.”

        Everything was pretty crazy after that. I heard yelling, I heard kids chanting 'Fight, fight, fight, fight', and everyone was running around me. Someone grabbed me by the waist and pulled me backwards. Out of the line of fire, I was guessing. 

        Then everyone gasped as our principle stepped through the circle of kids and said “Boys, stop!” Everyone got real quiet, real fast.