6. The Weight of Regret
Anderson froze.
He couldn’t even drop the book, or make a run for it, it felt like his entire body was benumbed by fear. Carl walked into the room and halted in his stride the moment he saw Anderson. He looked at the white look of terror on his sweaty face, then his eyes slowly traced down to his book. Carl panicked and that panic quickly flipped into anger immediately.
“Carl-” Anderson’s choked voice was lost in the heat of the moment even before it got to Carl’s ears.
“What the fuck are you doing there?” he demanded.
Before Anderson could move, Carl crossed the room in two strides and his huge knuckles flashed before Anderson’s eyes before landing a crushing blow on his jaw. Anderson’s cry was stifled by the pain he felt on his jaw. He crashed on Carl’s bed and Carl climbed over him, grabbed his collar and dragged him off the bed. Anderson groaned as his back landed roughly on the ground.
Carl’s golden eyes were like balls of fire as he glared down at a terrified Anderson. The latter whimpered, holding his weak arms up to cover his face in case Carl wanted to strike him again. Carl’s fist hung in the air, his other hand holding Anderson’s collar, poised to strike, but he stopped.
He let go of him and Anderson’s head hit the carpet. He curled into a ball on the floor, his heart was thumping, his jaw throbbing in pain and tears welling up in his eyes. Carl’s rage died down as quickly as it had flared up.
“Don’t you ever touch my stuff again,” Carl snarled at him, “else, I’ll break your fucking jaw, Anderson.”
Anderson didn’t need to be told, he didn’t have to look at Carl’s cold eyes to know that his words were not a bluff. He should have listened to his father. He wouldn’t be in this position if he had. How ignorant and stupid he had been, now he had blood trickling out of the corners of his mouth.
“I’m sorry…” he mumbled weakly, but Carl wasn’t paying any attention.
Carl picked up his book, and his bag that sat next to it. He didn’t even look at Anderson as he walked out of the room and slammed the door violently behind him. Anderson’s body shook as the rocking sound of the door shook his eardrums. He cried freely now, not just for the pain that attacked his jaw, but the throbbing ache in his heart.
Carl hated him now. The only person that had ever stood up for him in his life now loathed him and that shattered his feelings completely. He sniffled and like a wounded cat, he crawled to his bed. He wrapped himself in a blanket for the rest of that day and he was waiting. He didn’t eat anything, he couldn’t even get up, his heart was heavy. Although his stomach rumbled with hunger and his jaw craved for some medical attention, he still waited.
The sky grew dark, Anderson watched the sun peter away until even its glow was snuffed out completely and all he could think about was Carl’s charming eyes. He grew lost in his imagination until night time came. He strained his arm and turned his alarm clock to see the time. It was almost eleven PM and as he kept waiting, he suddenly accepted the fact that Carl wasn’t coming back that night.
With a depressed sigh, he cried himself silently to sleep.
What made Anderson feel even more terrible was the fact that Carl’s bag wasn’t seated next to him during classes the next day. His heart was sunk and he was barely listening to anything his lecturers said. He kept glancing at the empty seat from time to time, sighs escaping from his mouth from time to time. He was devastated.
It was lunch time already and before he could even get up from his seat, a hand clamped on his shoulder, forcing him down violently. He shook his head, his blood boiling with a sudden anger that had surfaced from burying his grief. He glared up at Arnold’s smug expression. Arnold arched an eyebrow at him, scared for a split second at the rage in Anderson’s eyes.
“Oh, looks like Andie pussy is mad,” he said and the four guys standing like scarecrows behind Anderson chuckled, “who made you mad, pussy? Oh,” he pointed at the empty seat, “your girlfriend left you lonely today, huh? Carl must have fucked up your love life, making you sad, right?”
The entire class burst into a frenzy of laughter, leaving Anderson’s cheeks heated with embarrassment. He tried to stand up again, but the ruthless hand on his shoulder showed him no mercy.
“Just let me go, dude,” Anderson said to Arnold without meeting his eyes.
“What’s the matter?” Arnold asked, “embarrassed, huh?”
Anderson stared down at his desk, seething like a boiling volcano that was about to erupt.
“What happened to your jaw, pussy?” Arnold asked with false sympathy, aimed at mockery, “got beaten up by a teddy bear?”
“Ooh!” the guy behind Anderson, Mitch, who was Arnold’s best friend, exclaimed, “he’s a fucking weakling, Arnold. I think he must have lost to a dangerous, notorious mob of balloons.”
Another round of laughter erupted. Anderson’s head was bulging, like a circus was going on in it. He got to his feet and tried to walk past them, but someone’s leg suddenly stuck out and his got hooked on it, making him stumble to the ground.
Everyone laughed heartily again, except for the girl whose seat was next to where Anderson had fallen. She rose to her feet as Arnold and his gang pounced.
“What’s your problem, Arnold? Let him be,” she said, shocked by this level of bullying, “you’re acting crazy…all of you!” she was addressing the entire class now, that had suddenly fallen silent, “you all should be ashamed of yourselves for encouraging bullying. He just wants to fucking learn.”
“Sit down, Mia, before I make you,” Mitch, who was the most muscular of the four, towering at six foot three with a hawk-like face and impassive, bead-like eyes, said in a threatening tone.
Mia stared at him the way one would regard filth, “Watch the way you talk to me or I will tell my father to call off the deal with your family’s cheap company!”
“Ooh!” the shocked buzz in the classroom made Mitch’s face reddened.
Mia helped Anderson up to his feet and placed his arm over her shoulder when she noticed that he was limping. “Are you okay?”
Anderson was about to reply when he stared at the door and his words got stuck in his throat. Carl stood at the door, his dark eyes staring directly at Anderson like a predator watching a prey from the darkness. Anderson wanted to speak up, he felt the urgency to tell Carl that it wasn’t what it looked like.
But Carl turned and walked out of the classroom.
Anderson’s heart sunk even further.