19. Correction

"So what? Maybe some new design number the kids got themselves." The male officer said.

"DO YOU EVEN KNOW HOW AREA CODES WORK, YOU DUMBASS?" My head was pressed into the couch until the woman said for him to let go.

"He is right; it doesn't work that way." The female officer protested.

"Maybe it's just a typo. A manipulation or something." 

"No, we have to go back. Free him."

"He threatened us, and he cursed at us; we have enough to detain him."

"No." There was silence until I felt a ruff pull; the handcuffs clicked open, but I didn't move, playing dead. I tried desperately to get myself to calm down again.

"You will see us again." The male officer said, and I heard them walking out.

The door closed before it opened again.

"Howard? What happened?" The director came to my side and patted my shoulder.

"Nothing." I turned my body before sitting down and burrowing my face in my hands. Hadn't thought that I was so quickly triggered. But there was indeed a moment where I doubted my sanity, and that wasn't a very nice feeling.

"You can talk to me...if you did something..." The director spoke, and I laughed.

I stood up and walked out of the office, three friends waiting for me in the corridor, a bit further away from them, the cause of all my problems.

I bypassed them and went down the staircase, going inside a restroom to wash my face. After I entered and felt the cool water splashing in my face, the door opened again, my friends coming inside.

Danny hugged me and hung on me like a Christmas light.

"Tell us." Jordan came closer and petted my head, Omar standing right behind me.

"They have shown me a chat record, between 'Kennith' and Henrietta. 'Kennith' was texting like a low-class asshole. It was sent from my number. But now guess what? The area-code is in the wrong order; that fuck is not my number, and I doubt this shitty area code even exists."

"So you got angry?" Jordan pushed his glasses up to his head and looked at me through the mirror.

"A bit…" I chuckled. I think I am traumatized from my childhood. Maybe it was back then my fault, for being so dumb and spilling what I saw instead of feigning a sickness or illness to hinder my mother from leaving, but this time it was not.

"We heard you yelling through the corridor." Danny said while rubbing his face against my arm in a very corny and disgusting manner.

I shoved him away from me, and Jordan grabbed my hand, seeing bruises around my wrists.

"They handcuffed you? What the hell?" 

"It doesn't matter. Fuck, I want to go home, but it would only be more suspicious." Damn it.

"Let's just go to class." Jordan nodded.

"Think about everything else later; do you have your homework?"

"We got homework?" I asked, and Jordan laughed, putting his arm around my shoulder and leading me out of the restroom, the others following behind. Beside the door was Henry, clearly having overheard us and not a bit embarrassed about it. But he could hear about the false prefix all he wanted; this was only undermining my innocence.

His fucking stare, his fucking blue eyes, and his fucking mole, were getting on my fucking nerves, so I didn't look at him.

Back in class, they were in the middle of their lessons, and with us five coming back, including Henry, who strolled after us, everyone stared dumbly. At least the teacher was somewhat in the picture because he didn't scold us and just gave us a stern look.

After sitting down, I put my head on the table, happy that I was not only in a shirt but with my school jacket, which covered the marks the handcuffs had left. If the others saw them, hell would break loose.

Getting a bit of sleep after the turmoil and with Henry still focusing on my back was not easy, but it wasn't impossible.

"Wake up." Danny lay halfway on me until I woke up and shoved him away.

"Ha?" I wiped drool from my face.

Looking up, I saw Omar standing before my desk, Jordan having an arm propped on his shoulder.

"Let's go to the computer room; you have to correct meanwhile two entries."

I nodded and stood up, following them. There was no need to search for the blue eyes stalking me, as I constantly felt them.

We walked to the computer room, and Omar opened the website he made. It looked just like Henry's, with the difference that instead of no profile posting the entries, there was one on this site. The moment I saw the orange-hooded cartoon character, I narrowed my eyes on Omar.

"'Kenny' dies in nearly every episode; why do I want him as my profile picture?"

"You want to be Cartman?" Omar asked with a laugh, and I just rolled my eyes.

Sighing, I took the seat he made free from me.

"Fine, Kenny is Kenny." I said, typing my first post.

[First diary entry→ correct.]

Then up to the real corrections:

[Second diary entry→ incorrect: I told Henrietta about a new detail I saw while 'reading' her past. She stood up and walked away after that; no words were exchanged.]

[Third diary entry→ incorrect. The third time we met, I couldn't tell her something she didn't know already, so she just stayed with me until it was time for the next lesson. We didn't speak; no phone numbers were exchanged.]

"So you didn't really talk after meeting?" Jordan read what I wrote over my shoulder.

"What to talk about?" I shoved his face away.

"Like small talk or anything." Danny intercepted, taking a seat at the computer beside me.

"We both were not the type for small talk. She wasn't your typical girl."

"She was special?" Omar asked, also still standing behind me.

"Yeah." Her presence was soothing; I felt not irked by it. It was like I was still alone; at the same time, I wasn't lonely.