Back to You(9)

Lauren slowed, cautiously observing him as she neared the classroom. He was completely still, statuesque even, a far cry from what she had just witnessed moments ago. When she finally reached room 228, despite her better judgment, she continued on down the hall, slowly approaching the doors at the end of the corridor the way someone might approach an injured animal.
He was sitting on the trunk of a car, his feet propped up on the bumper and his hat dangling lifelessly from his fingers as he rested his elbows on his knees. His head was bowed so that all she could see was his hair, full and dark and slightly mussed from the hat.
Lauren watched him, the oddest feeling settling in her chest as he reached up and dragged his hand down his face before dropping his head back. His shoulders rose dramatically as he took a slow, deep breath, blinking up at the sky.
And for some unfathomable reason, in that moment, she felt like she should do something.
But what could she do? Go out there? That seemed like an incredibly foolish thing to do. He didn’t even know her. And besides, if she did go out there, what would she even say?
Mr. Mavis had said he’d been triggered, but what did that mean? That he was dangerous? He’d certainly looked it back in the classroom; in fact, dangerous was an understatement.
But right now? Right now, he just looked broken.
He brought his head back down and closed his eyes, and as soon as he opened them, they fell on Lauren watching him through the doors.
She gasped audibly as she whirled around; any fear she should have felt at that moment was completely overshadowed by the embarrassment at being caught staring at him for the second time. She darted back to the Health room without looking back, but she didn’t need to; she could still feel his eyes on her.
He never came back to class that day.
By the following period, it seemed everyone had heard about what happened. The story spread with alarming speed, along with a slew of other rumors about Michael Delaney.
Everyone seemed to know him as Del. He was a sophomore, one year older than her. He’d been suspended in his middle school more times than anyone could keep track of. The only reason he hadn’t been expelled was because he was smart enough to manage good grades, despite the classes he missed due to detentions and suspensions. He didn’t have a father. His mother hated him. His brother was dead.
And then came the ridiculous ones: “I heard he pulled a knife on a teacher once.” “I heard he’s been in prison.” “I heard he murdered his brother.”
Lauren had no idea what was fact or fiction, what was true and what was exaggerated or embellished, but by the end of that day, she was pretty sure she had come to two accurate conclusions: Michael Delaney had a very troubled life, and the general population was smart enough to stay away from him.

When Lauren walked into school the next day, she wasn’t surprised to hear students still talking about Keith Wagner’s near-death experience in Health class. She had expected that.
But what she didn’t expect was to see Michael.
Lauren had thought for sure he would have been suspended for the outburst, and that Health that afternoon would be relatively uneventful.
But when she emerged from the stairwell that morning on her way to English { display: block; font-size: g le class, she stopped in her tracks. There he was, leaning against the wall in front of the cafeteria, talking with two other boys.
She stood there for a second, expecting to feel fear surge through her body after everything she’d heard and witnessed the day before, but even as the thought crossed her mind, his lips parted as he laughed at something one of the other boys had said.
There was nothing frightening about him in that moment: the lighthearted laugh, his casual stance against the wall as he bounced a small blue rubber ball mindlessly on the floor, flicking his wrist and catching it effortlessly without ever removing his attention from the conversation.
Lauren stepped to the side, safely shielded by the mass of students in the hallway, and studied him, trying to see what she knew she was supposed to be seeing.
Trying to make the danger appear.
But for some reason, all she could conjure up was the image of him totally vulnerable on the trunk of the car the day before.
And when he laughed again, this time the hearty sound of it carried down the hall to her, and suddenly Lauren felt like the people who spewed those rumors yesterday must have accidentally confused him with someone else.
She had to find out.
Without even fully deciding to do it, she squatted down on the side of the hallway and pulled her Health notebook out of her backpack before tearing out the two pages of notes she’d taken the day before. She looked them over briefly before closing the notebook and shoving it back into her bag, tossing it over her shoulder as she stood.