19. Correction

"So what? Maybe one of these new designer numbers the kids get 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 me 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 rough 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 threatened, before 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 burying my face in my hands. Hadn't thought I'd be so easily 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, with 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 my fault back then, for being so dumb and spilling what I saw instead of faking a sickness to hinder my mother from leaving, but this time it was not.

"We heard you yelling from 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; that the evidence was fake was only undermining my alleged guilt.

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 lessons, and with us five returning, including Henry, who strolled after us, everyone started staring dumbly. At least the teacher had some presence of mind, 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 also with my school jacket, which covered the marks the handcuffs had left. If the others saw them, all 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.

"Huh?" I wiped drool from my face.

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

"Let's go to the computer room; you've got to correct two more 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 the hell would 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 for 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 up?" Jordan read what I wrote over my shoulder.

"To talk about what?" 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 didn't feel irked by it. It was like I was still alone; at the same time, I wasn't lonely.