Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Saving Ezra - 2. Chapter 2
The next day, Ezra was turned away from his first class. A pass was pushed into his hand by the teacher before he even made it to the desks.
“Office, Walker.”
Ezra sighed heavily, turning on his heel. At least he hadn’t been called on the intercom this time. That was always so embarrassing. He hated it, everyone would look at him. He knew they’d wonder what he’d done to get called to the office and his face would burn up. Thank God for oversized hoodies he could hide in.
If he hurried maybe he could get back to class without being that late.
As Ezra dodged between other students, he wondered what the office wanted with him now. He didn’t think his dad had called. He didn’t have any new bruises or anything. He still had the black eye, but Ezra thought they’d covered that situation well enough the day before. Covered it way more than he’d wanted to. It made him anxious not knowing what he was going to be asked or told.
When he made it to the office he was glad to see only Ms. Garcia, the counselor, wanted to see him and she didn’t make him wait.
“Ah, good. I caught you before first period.” She waved him into her little office. “Come in.”
He sat in the beat up chair in front of her desk, holding his backpack in front of him like a shield. Ms. Garcia plopped into her own chair and started rifling through papers on her desk.
“I’ve got some great news for you.” The counselor’s smile was wide and genuine. “We found a way for you to get enough credits to be sure you’ll have enough to graduate. It will also make a great addendum to your college applications.”
Ezra just shifted in his seat, unsure what response she wanted from him. “Okay.”
“A college student is doing some research for an honors class and has gotten permission from the course director and his staff research advisor to get an assistant.” She made a little stack of pages in front of her. “He’s done the paperwork with them and us in order to have a high school senior be his research assistant. The senior who does it will get class credit for the work. I immediately thought of you.”
“Me?”
“Yes, of course.” The counselor looked at him like he’d said something silly. “You need the credit hours and also you would be doing the research work after school for an hour or two every day. The college student would arrange transport for you after school to where he’s doing his work, which means you wouldn’t have to worry about being bullied on your way home from school anymore. I’m hoping that by the time the research project is done the bullies will have lost interest and it will be safe for you to walk home again.”
Ms. Garcia was beaming. It was making Ezra uncomfortable.
“I’m not smart enough to help a college student with research. I almost failed chemistry.”
The counselor waved a hand. “It’s a psychology class. Besides, you won’t be doing the heavy lifting. Joshua said he mostly needs help with data entry. It might be a little boring sometimes, but I’m sure you can do it.”
Ezra bit his lip and shifted in his seat.
“What do you say, Ezra?” Ms. Garcia said cheerfully. “Are you up for it?”
Ezra thought about it. He really did want to graduate on time. So many things would be bad if he had to stay in high school a whole year more. It was scary thinking about doing this research thing, though. What if he messed everything up? He knew he was a complete fuck up. He didn’t want to be responsible for ruining some guy’s research. That would be terrible. Ms. Garcia seemed to think he could do it, however, and she said it wasn’t hard.
Ezra took a deep breath and let it out. He could at least try. If he was terrible then the college guy could fire him or something and maybe he’d get at least a little extra credit for the time. Hopefully it would be enough for him to graduate.
Ezra looked at Ms. Garcia’s hopeful face.
“Okay. I’ll do my best.”
“That’s great!” The plump woman took her little stack of papers and handed them to Ezra. “Here you go. This is everything you need to know. It explains the research project. Don’t worry about making sense of everything in that one, it uses a lot of research lingo, but it might be interesting for you to look over. There’s also contact information for Joshua Kline, the college student, as well as his overseeing faculty. There’s a page that talks about your responsibilities and his responsibilities and another that outlines the times and dates.” Ms. Garcia paused to look at Ezra. “Is it alright with your dad if you’d be home by five thirty?”
Ezra nodded. “He doesn’t get home from work until six anyway.”
“Oh, perfect, then.” Her smile lit her face again. “You can start as soon as you and your dad sign the consent sheet and bring it back in to me.”
Ezra blinked. “My dad has to sign it?”
“Of course,” Ms. Garcia told him. “I know you're eighteen, but it's still policy. It’s the same as it would be for any off campus activity. We need written parental permission. That’s not a problem is it? I can call your dad and explain things if you need me to. This is a great opportunity.”
“No, it’s fine.” Ezra told her, tucking the papers into the front pocket of his backpack. “I’m sure he’ll sign them. I’ll bring them in tomorrow if that’s okay.”
“If it’s not too much trouble, that would be great,” the counselor encouraged. “I think the first day Joshua needs you isn’t until Friday, does that sound alright?”
Ezra nodded.
“Great.” She paper-clipped some other papers together. “I’ll let him know to come meet you here Friday after school. Come to the office after final period and I’ll introduce you to Joshua and we’ll get you all set up. After that you two can figure out pick-up times and places on your own. Sound good?”
Ezra nodded again.
“Wonderful.” Ms. Garcia looked at the clock. “I think that’s all I needed. If you hurry you can make it back to class before first bell. Do you have any questions for me before you go?”
Ezra shook his head and stood up, shouldering his backpack.
“Okay, off you go, then.” The counselor gave him a little shooing wave. “I'll see you Friday after school, here in my office. Don’t forget.”
Ezra was half-stunned as he hurried back to class. He was sure this was a terrible idea and he was going to fail, but he’d agreed to it. What had he been thinking? Ms. Garcia was going to be so disappointed when he screwed this up. Shit.
Ezra tried to take deep even breaths like his therapist had taught him.
It was too late now. He’d agreed. Now he just needed to figure out a way for his dad to agree to it and sign the papers. Ezra’s dad was weird about things sometimes, and Ezra didn’t always know what his dad would think or how he would react about different situations. It could go either way. His dad could think it was a great idea, or his dad could be convinced that it would lead Ezra down the road to ruin. Maybe he should have let Ms. Garcia call.
Ezra’s stomach twisted as he stepped into his classroom moments before the bell rang. Everything seemed to be making the slender teen nervous. He worried about if his dad would agree, meeting the college guy, trying to do research he knew nothing about, going to the university when he’d never been there before, and a hundred other things that crowded his head. He was glad for once he never ate breakfast, he didn’t think he’d be able to hold it down with his tummy jumping around with every beat of his heart.
Breathe. Just breathe.
If you’re breathing you aren’t dying. Just keep breathing.
Ezra had his hood pulled low when he tried to sneak in to drop off the consent form for Ms. Garcia the next morning. He was just setting the paper in the middle of her cluttered desk when he heard a noise behind him.
“Ezra?”
The small teen spun around, startled, to see Ms. Garcia peering at him through the door.
Busted.
“I got the form signed,” Ezra sputtered. “I just thought I’d drop it before classes started.”
“Oh, that’s great.” Ms. Garcia frowned. “What happened to your lip, Ezra?”
“Nothing.” Ezra muttered, slapping a hand over his mouth.
Ms. Garcia came close, eyebrows knitting. “Show me, Ezra. Did that happen this morning before school or after school yesterday?”
Ezra’s shoulders slumped and he dropped his hand, exposing his swollen, split lip. “Yesterday.”
“Walking home again?” The counselor stiffened. “Give me names, Ezra. I mean it.”
Ezra shook his head. “I didn’t see anybody.”
Ms. Garcia actually stomped her small foot. “Ezra! I don’t know what could possibly be good about protecting whoever is harassing you, but it’s not helping. You need to tell me so I can help.”
Ezra just shook his head resolutely.
Ms. Garcia huffed in irritation. “Well, at least starting Friday I can stop worrying about you getting jumped on your walk home.”
Ezra shrugged awkwardly and tried to figure out how to get past Ms. Garcia and out of the office.
“Do you need to see the nurse for an ice pack or anything?” the counselor asked, voice gentling.
Ezra shook his head and shifted his feet. Ms. Garcia finally sighed and stepped aside.
“If it starts bothering you I expect to hear that you went in to the nurse, okay?”
Ezra nodded, sidling past her, knowing there was no way the nurse would be seeing him that day.
The counselor fought the urge to run her hands through her hair, knowing she’d just have a mess on top of her head for the rest of the day if she did. Instead she sighed and sat behind her desk, grabbing Ezra’s signed consent form so she could file it.
The counselor usually loved her job, but times like these frustrated her greatly. She knew she was doing everything she could, but it felt like so little. The woman wanted to walk Ezra home every day and catch whoever kept beating him up. She’d give them a piece of her mind and possibly her sensible pump up their asses.
She stuck the form in the proper file and slid the cabinet closed. Thank goodness for Joshua. He was a good kid, if a bit rough around the edges. He’d never gotten in trouble in school, had good grades, kept his nose clean, and was active in clubs. He had a few piercings in his face, but the counselor didn’t hold that against him. She’d been a school counselor long enough to know that the clean cut kids could be criminals just as easily as the kids with tattoos and piercings.
Even if she didn’t know Joshua was a good kid, she knew Ezra would be better off with him than the punks that were jumping him on his way home. The counselor really hoped that those jerks would leave him alone after the research project was over. He’d be safe until the end of the semester, at least.
She shook her head and started on other work. The counselor had done what she could for Ezra. If something else came up she’d do her best to address it. Hopefully the poor kid could dodge his bullies until Friday.
At lunchtime Ezra ended up sitting alone at a table. The people he usually sat with hadn’t gotten there yet. He felt exposed as he opened his little brown bag with its plain peanut butter sandwich. He had a little carton of chocolate milk from the lunch line for fifty cents and that was his meal. Sometimes he had bologna, but usually it was peanut butter. They were all out of jelly right now, though, so he hoped he had enough milk to keep his tongue from gluing to the roof of his mouth with the peanut butter.
Ezra visibly startled as someone suddenly thudded onto the bench beside him.
“Heya, Walker, how’s the little princess today?” The voice was low enough to avoid being noticed by the one teacher on monitor duty, but loud enough to be heard by nearby tables.
Eyes turned to Ezra and a few mean chuckles had him hunching his shoulders, wishing he could disappear.
“Come on, baby, don’t ignore me.” The voice cut in. “You’ll give me a complex or something.”
Ezra felt a hand patting his back and jerked away roughly as he felt another body slide onto the bench on his other side.
“Princess being a prissy bitch today, Brody?” the new guy who had sat asked mockingly.
“Must be on her period.” The first boy, Brody, said triumphantly, as though he’d made the cleverest comment possible in the situation.
It was amusing enough for the other students, as a few laughs and even more snickers raced around the tables near them. Ezra’s face burned as though it was on fire. Fucking Brody and his chump buddies. Ezra wanted to jump up and shout obscenities at them, call them names and throw things. Instead he sat, hunched over his dry sandwich, silent, praying they got bored soon.
Brody slung an unwelcome arm over Ezra’s shoulders, jostling the smaller teen.
“Come on, baby, don’t be that way,” Brody said with malicious glee. “You know you love me. You should stop pretending to be a boy and everybody would be so much nicer to you, especially if you gave up that little pussy to the football team.”
Ezra felt bile rise in his throat as he moved to shrug off the arm touching him.
“Leave me alone,” Ezra hissed.
The boys on either side crowded closer.
“Don’t be a cunt.” The second boy bit out, ramming a surreptitious elbow into Ezra’s solar plexus.
Ezra sucked air, palms flattening on the cheap plastic tabletop as his hazel eyes opened wide.
Brody laughed loudly at the look on Ezra’s face, adding a quick punch to the small senior’s ribs after he’d looked around to make sure no adults were looking.
Still trying to find his breath, Ezra couldn’t even cry out as the bigger teen’s knuckles dug into his side. Ezra’s hands clenched as he hunched over in pain, tucking his arms to his belly. Brody got a nod from his lackey, pointing out the monitor watching them with a frown.
Brody stood, ruffling Ezra’s hair. “We’ll see you later, princess. Have a nice lunch, baby.”
Ezra stayed bent, tears pooling in his eyes as the much larger boys finally left him to go to their own table for lunch. The slender senior heard murmured jokes about him said to Brody and his buddy as they walked away. Ezra heard the slap of two palms, had someone actually high-fived one of those assholes? What the hell?
Ezra tried to breathe slowly and calmly, following the air in and out of him while he tried to ignore the world around him. He drank his milk but threw away his sandwich, unable to stomach it, before leaving the cafeteria, hoping for somewhere to hide until lunchtime was over.
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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