Looking around the room, she wondered where Mrs. Jordan decided to go now. If there had been some great distress with some other teacher, which meant she was laughing about some rather stupid business. When teachers pretended to be humans too. It was bad enough when they attempted to try and speak to them on 'their level'. No adult should ever try to be 'cool'. It was just disturbing and slightly horrifying.
Turning to pull out a book and begin to read, as the usual noise about the room began. Most everyone in their seats or finding a new one to chat it up with their friends. Whatever looks were directed at her, she ignored. Just read, don't bother to look up. Words across a page were more interesting than the lot of them anyhow. This was nothing new or different. Whether their little whispering and laughs were about her or not, she wasn't going to bother to find out. It didn't help when she gave them a reason for it. It wasn't her fault, but she would gain enough attention on her own.
Two boys began pushing each other near the door. No adults to pay attention or to stop anything. The doorway was wide open, but that was as far as anything went. No one expected the noise, everyone looking up like a bunch of meerkats on National Geographic. Everyone in unison, practically all the same. Their own little groups and cliques that held their types to follow. Even the most average held some part of it.
The taller boy was pushing the smaller one around, but the smaller one held more strength. It could have been a fluke or in anger, but there had been no words that were loud enough to even begin to understand what it was all about. But she was on the opposite side of the room anyway. Away from the entire spectacle. Turning back to her book, she was now the only one not paying attention. The teacher finally making her way inside, calling out and trying to get into the middle of it. But fists were now being thrown and the boys were both larger than this petite woman. Even at her angriest, she didn't know what she was doing or what she was up against.
The boys knocked her back more than once before she finally pulled away, mostly due to the fact she fell back against the wall. No one had bothered to get any security or help. Everyone working on instinct rather than what they were taught. And sixth graders weren't about to break this up. There was no help from anyone coming, not for some time.
Rachel continued to read the words. 'I was cold. I was lonely. I was engaged to be married in two short months to the most handsome man I'd ever seen--the prince of the land, the heir to the throne. But I had never felt so alone in all of my life, not even shivering in rags in my garret the day they came to say my father was dead. This was happiness?' Just Ella. It had been recommended to her by the librarian that knew her as if she were one of her own students there. The regularity in which Rachel showed up in there. Right down to what dates and times she showed up looking for her next new find to read. Too bad this one held the most boring start of all. Nothing she couldn't have expected to happen in the first chapter, but she was holding her judgement for now. As best she could.
It was in a flash, as she hadn't been paying attention to the raging storm that was still left in the room. Her attention left on the book, the words that fluttered under her finger as she read. It was as easy as ignoring the noise that came during those swim meets she sat in on. The roar of the crowd, the rush of cheers and clapping for whomever was next or made it through. Even the sound of water had gone unnoticed, until she heard the name she was waiting on to bother giving her attention for.
She could have sworn she heard her name in some harsh whisper or maybe it was in awe. But there was no proof of this as no one admitted to it. The smaller boy, his back slammed onto her desk. His attention not on her, of course, but hers on both of them now. Pulling her book out of the way as they continued to attack one another. Now she could see the scattered and tossed over desks the two had left in their wake to her left side before making it to her.
The small girl gained a quiet room, as time felt like it slowed. No rush of movement other than to punch the boy before he was able to fall to the floor. Her desk left as if it had never been touched, other than how it rocked against her. Her attention no longer on the book in hand, no expression held as she stared at the two. The room may as well have been cold and empty. Intentions were no longer what they should have been.
She should have held it in, but her motives changed in an instant. There was movement in her, as if premeditated. A plan of action thought out quickly, imagined, as her big brown eyes may as well have turned to glass. Dark hair fallen around her face.
The moment they were clear of her desk, allowing her to stand up, she did as much. Her small frame tiny in comparison to the boy that was two years older than her, held back into this class twice now, and had been pushing towards six feet tall already. Lanky build hidden beneath dark clothes that didn't match anything but her current state.
"Oh!" It was the sound of the entire class in unison, as it all happened. Like a chant proving how everything was about to get taken to another level. The boy in front of her, he was standing there, above the other, while the teacher was moving in. Her eyes going wide as she caught sight of Rachel. It was not what was expected, and yet, it was, the moment fists were balled. As though to prepare herself for what she was about to do. The way her leg moved up was far too graceful, even for that moment and action. As if some tiny dancer was setting a high kick. Book long forgotten on her desk. The words flew from her mouth, a slew of Spanish, as she yelled at him, as he fell down. Not far from the other boy, but barely away.
Rachel didn't even know what she had said, but she knew what she had done. Kicking at him, as she stood there, almost the visual image of what one might suspect to come of a chihuahua in a big dog fight. Except she held her bite. Take out one set while the other was down and let out her bark to show them who they just messed with. Because, in her mind, they couldn't take it outside just as easily as they had held it here? To not let go of the fight, even though they knew they were going to be in trouble? None of this could have waited? He had to throw him into her desk? That the ones that lie around them weren't enough? Her anger bloomed, fire heating up in her out of nothing. As if it had been sitting there just waiting to go off at the press of a button. One reason just needed.
Three adults had flooded the room, finally. But it had taken too long, now she was the of the accused. A lesson she would learn and realize, but it wouldn't come, not until she pushed at the arms. Kicking now too, and screaming, she came off more insane than was necessary to prove her point. She could have been hurt, seriously hurt, or have to pay for a book because it held blood in it. The amount of damage done here, it left her just wanting to go home. The snap left her tired, after a high of energy that was surmised by her wave of anger.
She wasn't going to be trifled with, she was going to fight back, all the way through the hallway too until it was all out of her view. Breathing rushed, she was ill prepared for the sight that came of her. Righting herself as she stood, shoulders back, proper-like. Eyes still wide with a wave of emotions that were being calmed, pushed down and back deep within her. A quiet resolve as her moment finally passed. Watched, by adults, as she still questioned not just attempting to run between their legs and taking off down the hall. But they knew her name, knew who she was, and it would only be a specific amount of time before she was caught. Either by another teacher or her parents.
The thought of her parents, if that didn't pull her together now, she wasn't about to have that happen. She was deemed the good child. This was her first offense. How did this work? Was she now some sort of random cliche? Because they were all waiting for her to snap anyway? This wasn't a post office, but she could have been one here all the same.
Head down, she swallowed hard. Her big brown eyes darting over the tile floor below her feet. She didn't want to be in trouble. This wasn't what she caused and created. What had she become now and who was going to judge her for this? Great if they had actually made a point of leaving her alone now. Grow some respect and not bother with all those stupid whispers they had to claim over the way she looked, acted, or just what she did with her time. Other people who had known her long enough, but never actually knew her. Where was Devin?
She knew the answer to that question. There was no luck in the world to have that, let alone all of the same classes. What good was he to hide behind now when she had been the one to commit the transgression? Barely looking up as they spoke to her, she pulled her hands together.
"Rachel, are you okay? Hurt?" The bald man, Mr. Drexel. There was no visible signs of pain or any marks on her, but there was no telling given her state of dress. Not that she would willingly admit to anything if there were. It was just her way. Especially after those claims of the dead coming to life at the funeral home. That was what left those scratches on her arms. It wasn't her trying to play with a cat that wanted nothing to do with her in the first grade. Or that time where she attempted to help a baby bird, only to find out it was dead. And the mother flew by and tried to attack her over it the very next year.
Shaking her head, she sniffed, but it wasn't meant to be a play about crying or panicking. She wasn't used to speaking so much, let alone yelling. It left her throat hoarse and her nose feeling off. Almost like allergies, but she didn't have any. Did she? She couldn't even think of anything. Just went straight for what she believed they wanted out of her.
"I'm really sorry. It won't happen again." That's what worked with her parents. It worked with teachers that gave that disappointed look. It was rare, and it always came across as more successful. But all this did was create a longer pause. Silence, even in the hallway. There was no one getting to any classes, they were all in their own. Nothing mattered here, except her and what she did. Was this how things were supposed to be handled? Were they going to take her to the principals office next? Why were they just standing there? What was supposed to happen here?
Looking up again, the two men were looking at each other more puzzled. Had she done something else wrong? She should have just stayed seated and dealt with whatever was to come of that.
"You didn't do anything wrong, Rachel." Eyes widened even more now, was she dreaming, had she heard that right? Had they not seen the boy down on the floor gripping his crotch for all that it was worth? Maybe not, since he was on his side? That had to be it. Why was she getting a free pass?
"They didn't hurt you, right? Do you need to see the nurse?" Mr. Taylor, her math teacher. She felt like a mouse looking up at these men. Cornered, trapped, yet looking as if she was about to be set free. Rachel wasn't hurt, but right now, maybe the nurse was a good option. Especially if this was all some big ruse and she was going to end up seeing the principal anyway. The fact that she could have been really hurt be damned.
"I'd like that, please." she nodded, before they parted, allowing her to do so. Following her closely behind.