I walked into school the next day feeling exhausted. 

Staying up at night was not a good idea. I mean sure I was helping mom bake goods for an upcoming event the elementary school was running. That didn't mean I had to sample every treat she made.

Well yes I did. 

Who else was going to be her taste tester? Yeah, but I now felt the effects of my sugar crash. 

Why oh why did I eat so many right before bedtime? 

I walked straight up to my locker. Like a zombie, I entered my passcode and pulled my lockers door open.

"Wow," Clara held the 'wow' a little longer than necessary. "You look like a droopy sack of potatoes."

"Thank you. I can always count on you to be honest," I said as I pulled out my books for the next few classes. "I was helping mom with the baked sweets for the bake off in a few days."

She narrowed her eyes at me. "And why wasn't I called? I like sweets too, you know."

"For one, it was a last minute thing." Shutting my locker, I turned to face my friend. "I wasn't about to call you over so late. Man, I'm exhausted. " I yawned and headed toward the first class of the day.

"You probably wanted to hog all the treats again." She crossed her arms and pouted her lips.

"So I have a sweet tooth," I yawned once more, "Sue me."

"Just snag me a few before they go off to the bake off."

"Aren't you watching your figure?" I looked at her.

She rolled her eyes. "A few cupcakes isn't going to kill me." 

That's what I liked about Clara: her down to earth personality. She definitely wasn't the average cheerleader nor did she set out to be. She was - well - Clara. 

Stopping in front of literature class, we said our goodbyes. At the same time, Harris Groundhog approached us. 

His pale skin and bags under his eyes had always made him look like one of the undead. If I had my say, I'll say he was one of the undead. What's more, the guy was arrogant and annoying. 

"O'Connell," he stopped in front of me. Shoving his hands in his jean pockets, he leaned toward me. "Say you'll go on a date with me tomorrow."

And he had this thing for me. I don't know when it developed or what I did to deserve his attention, but someone needs to come take him off my hands. "Not in your lifetime." I leaned away from him. 

He leaned back, a frown on his face. "Why the hell not? I'm a pretty charming, good looking guy."

"I've told you a thousand times," I paused for effect. "I'm not interested."

"You think you're better than me?" He reached forward to grab me when I stepped away from him. 

"Knock it off," Clara smacked his hand away. 

"Anything wrong here?" 

We all turned our heads to see Mr. Knight standing at the doorway. Looking at him was like looking at a dream. His green eyes looked between us and Harris. When they landed on me, I had to look away. I didn't want to get caught up in them. 

He seemed to analyze the situation. Pointing his gaze on Harris, he stepped out of the doorway. "Mr. Harris?" 

"Nothing's the problem." Harris glared at the teacher.

"Miss. O'Connell, Miss. Duncan, he's giving you trouble?" Mr. Knight looked in our direction. 

Quickly, I shook my head. "No." I don't know why I said it so quickly. 

Mr. Knight studied me a moment before shifting his gaze to my friend. She shook her head and said she was alright.

Harris muttered something and walked past us. I turned to Clara who looked back at me. We said goodbye again before I entered my first class. Mr. Knight waited at the door as other students came inside. 

As the bell rang signaling the start of class, Mr. Knight closed the door and headed toward his desk. I took my seat and prepared for the lecture. 

The last few students entered the room as I was pulling my books out. I glanced at Mr. Knight to see him with his back to us, writing on the white board. 

He turned around to face the class. "I read over your essays and everyone did good. Some better than others, but still good." 

I just hope I get a good grade on the assignment. I'll  hate to start off the semester with a poor grade. As he began the lecture, I placed my chin in the palm of my hand, settling myself to listen to a long, boring speech.

Halfway into the lecture, he asked us to turn to page 357. On the page was the beginning of a poem. I frowned. I hated poetry.  

Poems didn't tell stories more so than express emotions. Oh well I guess.

He gave us ten minutes to read the poem. I read it and I read it again. I couldn't quite understand the meaning of the poem. 

"Time's up, class. Let's discuss what you have read." Mr. Knight rose from his chair and moved around to the front. "We'll start on the left with Miss. Neon." 

Listening half heartedly to each of my peers, I thought over this poem. 

His heart was choking
Coughing on blood
On the verge of death 
Darkness swallowed him

She reach out
A hand so gentle
That it touched his wounded heart

A light so warm glowed
His heart seem to heal
Healed at her touch

He raised his head 
To look upon her

She only smiled
Touching his heart 
With love and care

This poem was bizarre to me. It seemed like a romance, but it spoke of death too. I didn't understand it.

"Miss. Amelia, you're up." His voice brought me out of my thoughts.  

I raised my head. Had it come to be my turn so quickly? "Well I feel like the poems speak on love and death. Like a soul is being touched by the soul of a lost one."

"Mmm, go on." He tilted his head to one side.

I found myself looking directly into his eyes. "It's like that common show where loved ones meet up with the deceased as he is passing over. She came for him and healed his wounds when he died." 

"I see. Thank you, Miss. Amelia." He looked at the next person. "You're next. Go on." 

I felt a pressure lifted from my shoulders. That wasn't too difficult. I relaxed back at my desk. Something out the corner of my eye moved. I turned my head to the window. Spotting nothing but the same scenery, I searched the area once more. 

I could have sworn I saw something moving out there. 

***

The last bell of the day rang and all the students hurried to leave. I walked with Clara toward her cheerleader practice, thinking over what was said during literature class. 

Dropping Clara off at the field, I turned around to head toward detention. As I re-entered the building, I headed toward Mr. Knight's classroom. As I rounded a corner, someone stepped out in front of me. 

"Reject me, huh?" Harris towered over me.

I took a few steps back to see him better. 

"Girls like you make me sick. Always judging a guy on his appearance or you think he's weird."

Oh boy, he still wasn't over me rejecting him. "It's not your appearance that stinks, Harris. It's your attitude."

That angered him. He grabbed a hold of my right wrist, pulling me forward. "You little moron. No wonder they didn't want you on the cheerleader squad."

Which was partially true. I did speak my mind and speaking out against the squad leader was a big no no. At least it was here. But that group didn't want me because I didn't have the perfect petite figure nor what they qualify as great looks. I had a curvy figure which I inherited from my Latino mother. 

"Let go," I pulled my arm only to have him squeeze it.

"You're going to date me, whether you like it or not."

"Wanna bet?" I looked over my eyelashes at him. Then I swung my left leg.

He blocked my kick using his knee, which surprised me. "That bullshit training you call yourself learning has nothing against me." 

A groan left me the moment he twisted my wrist behind my back. I leaned forward, trying not to move anymore than I can. 

"Say you'll go on a date with me and I'll let you go," he spoke near my ear. 

When I didn't say anything, he twisted my wrist slightly, bringing another groan from me. 

Why didn't I fully pay attention in Bujinkan training? 

"Let her go, Mr. Groundhog." Mr. Knight's voice came from somewhere behind us.

"What?" Harris's grip on me loosened enough so that I was able to pull free.

"You asshat!" I once more swung my leg. This time it connected, hitting him right in the middle of his thigh. 

He seemed to bend in on himself."Son of a b-" He dropped down in some attempt to cradle his thigh. 

As I go to kick him again, I'm grabbed by Mr. Knight. He has my arms, but I'm still kicking the air as he pulls me back. 

I didn't care. What mattered right now was getting my revenge on Harris for bending my arm behind my back. I just needed one good kick.

"Enough, stop it," Mr. Knight said as he moved me to the side.

It was at that moment I felt them. A pleasant sensation ran through me. Almost like sparks but invisible ones. I turned my gaze to Mr. Knight, who was looking at Harris. He was saying something, but I was too engrossed in this pleasant feeling to really hear him. 

Then he released me. The sensation disappeared as soon as it came. I found myself frowning. Just what was that? 

"To the principal office now, Mr. Harris." He pointed in the direction of the office. 

Harris shoved his hands in his pockets, glaring at the teacher. Turning he grumbled and sneered,  walking toward the office. 

"Are you alright?" He turned to me. There was a look of concern in his green eyes. "Do you need to go to the nurse?"

Shaking my head, I glanced down at my wrist, rubbing it. "Yeah I'm fine." 

"I'm going to make sure Mr. Groundhog gets to the right place. Please wait in my classroom." He took off running down the hall without waiting for a response from me. 

I waited in the classroom. I figured I could kill two birds with one stone: waiting out detention and homework. My wrist still hurt a little. About half a hour later, Mr. Knight walked into the classroom. An exhausted look was on his face.

He came to stand next to my desk. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"Yes," I replied with a nod of my head.

He didn't look convinced. "I saw him attack you, but do you have any reason why he did?"

I looked ahead a little annoyed. "He just wanted me to date him and I turned him down. This time he chose to be rough."

"I see. Does this sort of thing happen all the time?"

"It happened rarely, but usually Clara or someone is around to stop him." 

"Well," he walked toward his desk. "After today's event, I will be letting you go early. This is your last day anyway." 

"But what about tomorrow?" 

"Forget it. You served your time." He walked around his desk and took a seat.

Rising from my chair, a smile formed on my face. "Thank you, Mr. Knight."

He studied me for a moment.  Then he smiled. "Go on. Go." 

I quickly gathered my things. Casting another look at him, I smiled and turned, leaving the classroom.