The Return of the Bad boy

Chapter 7: Cameron

I should be used to all the staring by now but today felt different for some reason. It made me anxious to get the day over with. I fought too hard with my mom to let me come back, and I couldn't let these kinds of vibes mess with my head.

Dragging my feet through the halls and up the stairs, I stopped when I saw Summer with a bucket of soap and water. Was she scrubbing something? A locker? Why would she be doing that? She had everyone's attention as they walked by, pointing and mumbling behind her back. I didn't know if she could hear them, but she didn't care.

"Hey!" I called out.

Summer jumped, dropping the soapy sponge onto the ground by her feet. "H-h-hey!" She waved hesitantly then she had her back to the locker, blocking my view of it.

My eyebrows furrowed. "What happened to your locker?" I asked, but then my eyes drifted to the number above her head, and I realized this was my locker.

"Summer..." I said her name with a harsh exhale. "Move," I demanded.

Her gaze became defiant as she pursed her lips. "No." She stood her ground.

The outline of her body couldn't cover everything. I saw some of the red letters peeking out from behind her.

Growing impatient, I tugged Summer forward, and she slid on the soapy floor, colliding with my chest. I kept my grip on her, giving her a chance to regain her balance.

I saw her crane her neck up to look at me, but I didn't meet her eyes again. I was too busy glaring at the word scribbled across my locker. Criminal.

"Cameron," Summer spoke my name with caution. "Are you okay?"

I heard her words, but I couldn't respond. There was rage boiling up inside of me. I wanted to tear the locker off its hinges and throw it.

That's why Summer was here. She was trying to clean it off before I could see it. Damn.

I closed my eyes, trying to find my inner peace, which wanted to elude me.

All the other students were looking at her like she was crazy. Why should she want to help a criminal?

"Cam," Summer said a little louder this time.

I could feel a crowd gathering around us. My arm fell to my side, hanging limply.

I had to pull myself together. I opened my eyes suddenly.

I caught Summer's hand hovering by my cheek. She flinched like I had telekinetically slapped her hands away. Slowly, she lowered it.

"We should tell the principal or something. I don't want whoever did this to get away with it." She told me. "This is not cool." She huffed through her nose. "Move along!" she waved her hands, trying to get the people to disperse. "Mind your damn business!" she snickered. "I can't believe people use moments like this to post on their stupid social media because they find it entertaining. How could other's people's pain possibly be entertaining? They're just as sick as the person who did this. And they're probably encouraging more behavior like it too." She clicked her tongue.

There she goes defending me again.

My eyes flickered down to hers. Summer was standing less than a foot away from me. She was wearing that perfume I remembered picking out with her, and her voluminous hair was half up and half down with her signature side bang tucked behind her ear. She had on this pale blue flowy top with black jeans-shorts and white converses. I liked that color on her. Against her golden brown complexion, it was pretty.

I shook my head, finally gathering two of my brain cells together to respond to her. "Summer."

"Yup," She peered up at me, offering a small smile.