Leaking Heart - Yoshie Akira (best ebook reader for chromebook .txt) 📗

sobbed. "Is that how you really feel?"

"From the bottom of my heart," I said calmly, placing my fist over the center of my chest. Then I put it down quickly; not the right moment for something like that.

Then I wished I had left my hand where it was; Keme punched me in the chest -- hard. I had the wind knocked out me, and I doubled over, which gave her a chance to knee me in the nose. It felt like I would never breathe again, but then my lungs expanded and air whooshed into them. I coughed and spluttered from the blood that spewed from my nose. I think that violent girl banging on the kitchen window and yelling at my mom that she gave birth to a little bitch broke it.

I felt too lightheaded to stand up. The highest I could get was sitting up, but I was still slouched. I could hardly see through my pain tears. The bright sun mocked me.

Keme stooped over and tore up Mom's favorite flower: a reddish-pink Lobelia that had survived the longest and bloomed the most beautifully. I could hear my mother's horrified gasp from where I was. In her rage, Keme threw the lobelia at me. Keme could throw a feather at some one and it would probably hurt, considering how badly the lobelia smarted when it hit my arm.

Finally, her rampage ended and she stalked off to her hot pink bike at the end of our driveway.

That was when Mom and Dad came outside. Mom nearly fainted when she saw the blood running down my arms. I think all she saw was my hands holding my face because I was hunched over. She ran back inside, probably to call an ambulance.

My nose was still gushing blood. I really think that Keme broke it -- it hurt like HELL.

Then suddenly, I was lying down with something on my face. I knew I was in an ambulance because I could feel the road underneath us and the sirens were wailing.

They are really over reacting for a kid being punched -- well, kneed -- in the face.

Chapter 5

I found out today that Keme has a third degree black belt in tae kwon do. I could've died yesterday. Scary thought.

I also found out why there was so much blood. What I thought was a broken nose was actually a gash underneath my left eye beside my nose, which explains why I couldn't stop the bleeding. I have four stitches. At least I won't have to go to school on Monday or Tuesday.

When I woke up in the late afternoon, I was startled to finda policeman sitting beside me. He was talking to my mom across the bed to me and didn't notice my wide eyes for quite some time. "Oh! Hey, there, buddy. How ya feeling?" he asked. He had that cliche cop 'stache. His hair was blonde.

"Been better," said my mouth before my brain. Damn it! Why does it do that?!

The cop laughed. "I bet. My name is Ben Bratford, and I have a few questions for you. Is that all right with you, Athinosias?"

"Oh, it's Athanasios," corrected Mom. "But you can call him Athan for short."

"Sorry," Ben apologized. "Athan," he used my nickname.

"Ask away," I replied.

Ben nodded and took out a little yellow notepad. "Do you know the woman who attacked you?"

"Yeah."

"Who was she?"

"A classmate."

"What's her name?"

"Keme Burns."

"The governor's daughter?" Ben asked, surprised. He stopped writing and stared at me with aged brown eyes.

"Yup."

Ben exhaled and raised his eyebrows, writing it down. "And -- Why did she attack you?"

"I think she got upset when I said I didn't like her like her back," I replied.

I could tell he was trying to suppress a laugh. It did sound kind of stupid. "All right, then. I'm going to go ask Miss Burns a few questions. Get well soon, Athan."

I remember one day, my freshman year, I was working in a laundromat that my mom's friend owned. She had gone out back for a smoke and left me in charge. Soon after she had left, a man walked in.

I knew he immediately that he wasn't a customer; he hadn't brought any clothes. He paced the back of the store for a little bit. I ignored him and kept studying for my English test. After a while, he walked up to the counter with his hand in his pocket.

"Money," he grunted. I ignored him and flipped a page in my English book. Then he took a kitchen knife out of his pocket and slammed his hand down on the counter. I slowly looked up, without even glancing at the knife. "Money, brat," he growled.

I stared at him. He requested money as politely as the first two times again. I made phony gestures, all the while staring at him. I watched his eyebrows knit together in confusion.

"What're you doin'?" he frowned. I repeated the random gestures. "You deaf?" he asked.

I stared at him for a long moment to make my act convincing, then made realization cross my face. Without looking away from him, I pointed to myself, then to my ears, then shook my head "no."

The man turned red in the face and quickly hid the knife in his pocket, thinking I hadn't seen it. He nodded to me and left just as Jo entered.

"Everything okay?" she asked.

I nodded and flipped a page in my English book.

That day, believe it or not, had me terrified. But it wasn't as terrifying as even the thought of Keme Burns, her hands wrapped around my heart.

Chapter 6

Govenor Burns came to see me Tuesday, my last day in the hospital. My woundswere looking slightly better and less horrifying. He formally apologized to me for his daughter's behavior, and told me that she had already been enrolled into a private academy -- in the next state over. Comforting. She left yesterday, so I don't have to worry about seeing her.

With that, he said his good-byes (I could tell Keme got her looks from him), and promptly left. Dad told me that he personally paid for my hospital bill. That was nice of him. Now if only he would stop spoiling his crazy daughter.

But, anyway, I went home that night and slept in my own, warm bed. Unfortunately, I was still grounded despite my near-death experience. I was actually sort of glad for it; if they had ungrounded me, I would have felt spoiled, and I would hate to turn out the way Keme did.

After that thought, I shut my eyes and fell asleep. Then I opened my eyes. My alarm was going off -- 7:30 a.m. Crap.

But I went through my normal routine: wake up, take a shower, brush my teeth, brush my blue hair (it's dyed, by the way), glance at my pale skin and green eyes in the mirror, then go downstairs for waffles with my parents. At 8:00 a.m., I walk to school and arrive in first period at 8:25. Five minutes before school starts.

And there is a new guy sitting in my seat.

I thnk hard about it. Should I walk up to him and ask him to leave my seat? No, that's what I did with Keme and she started stalking me. But then, she was a spoiled rich brat, and this guy looks pretty average. He has tan skin, though not tan like Keme's, and blonde hair with black streaks in it. His back is to me, talking with my neighbor, Yvette, who never mentions to new kids that they're sitting in my seat. But then the guy turns around, and I see the rest of his face. He has gray eyes. He has make-up on.

It doesn't look bad. Just a little black eyeliner. He has a lip ring -- a hoop that circles the middle of his lower lip. It's silver. Immediately I feel something, just by looking at him. I don't know what it is. Fear, maybe? But all I know is, I don't want to mess with him.

I let him have my seat, and sit in the one that Keme sat in. It feels strange, and I begin to wonder whether I should go ask the new guy for my seat back. But it's too late; Mrs. Aligen has entered the classroom. Damn.

I fidget with my pencil the entire period. I was so uncomfortable sitting in this seat. I feel as if Keme would suddenly walk in and find me in her seat. She would likely use the desk itself to kill me. And no one would stop her.

Finally, the bell rings and I run out and into the bathroom. I look at myself in the mirror. I'm sweating, of all things. Just thinking about Keme has me all worked up. The sweat stings the cut under my eye. It's still bruised around the edges. I look bad.

"Whoa, dude," said a voice behind me. "What happened to your face?"

I whip around. It's the new kid.

"Um. Um," I stutter. Why are there butterflies in my stomach? Is this one of those moments they talk about when you can feel that something bad is going to happen? Oh, God, what if he's an even bigger bully than Keme?

But then I look in his eyes and I know it's not true. Maybe he changed his looks to get noticed, like me, although mine didn't work. He's got my attention.

"You okay?" he frowned. "You look a little sick. Do you want me to take you to the nurse?"

My knees started to shake