On Monday, we had an English exam. I did fairly well. No distractions whatsoever, except for Mr. Meyer's stares at the back of my head. Throughout the whole test time, I felt his gaze on me, and it creeped me out.
Since my first day in school, he's been treating me strangely. For example, whenever I ask a question in class, he has to stare at me for a while before and after answering me. Then he would shake his head as if dismissing a thought. And sometimes, he would call me after class is over but say nothing then dismisses me immediately.
Today, he did the same: he asked to stay behind after the exam is over. I did as he asked, but I was done with his shit. If he doesn't say anything, I'll have to ask him what the hell he wants from me.
"Did you want something, Mr. Meyer?" I stand at the door as I ask.
"Nicole, please take a seat," he says, looking down at the exam papers.
I take the first seat in front of his desk. He looks at me and folds his fingers together. He stares. I stare back.
"You look just like her," he says. I frown before he clarifies, "Nadine Shadow."
"You know my sister?"
"I taught her for three years. I heard she went to Julliard."
"She didn't."
He looked like he didn't know about the accident.
"Where did she go then?"
"She died in a car accident."
It's always been hard telling people about my family's death. And it's always been harder telling people who didn't know. You see their change of expression, their shock, their sympathy, and it sort of makes you feel everything all over again. Like you're breaking the news to yourself.
"Oh, I'm truly sorry."
"It's not your fault." I've gotten used to saying that till I don't really mean it all that much.
"She was one of my top students. One of the smartest ones. She was pretty philosophical, too."
"Yeah, she had an overreactive mind." Mom used to always say that about her. Nadine used to think that everything had a deeper meaning than what it actually shows.
"True."
At lunch, everyone talks about my hair. It was their first time seeing it since I cut it. Amber is absent. Tyler tells us she's pregnant. Everyone's surprised but me. He says she'll need to rest from now on, and that she'll give birth by April. It feels real once everyone knows about it.
Dylan doesn't say anything about us. He laughs along with me and everyone else like nothing ever happened. I'm grateful to him for doing that. Right now, I'm trying to avoid as much drama as possible till we graduate.
But it wasn't that easy of a task with Will around. I try to ignore his presence as much as possible. And if he says anything to me, I reply back sarcastically.
"Congratulations, Cody. You're the man," Jordan says when Cody and Denise finally arrive at the table. They didn't show up for half lunchtime; they were probably making out in the janitor's closet, or something.
"It's good to know that there's a man in this group," I mumble, unintentionally loud enough for some of them to hear. I was sitting between Jordan and Tyler; Will was in front of me. And the three of them heard that.
"What do you mean, Nick?" Tyler asks.
"Are you trying to hurt our man-pride?" Jordan places a dramatic hand on his chest.
"Oh, no, guys. I didn't mean you." I turn my eyes to Will. "It's just that some people don't have the balls to be serious like that."
"What are you implying?" Will puts his fork down. He's eating salad like a little bitch. Everything about him just pisses me off.
"Was I talking to you?"
"Come on, Nicole, don't be like that."
"Suck my dick, William."
At this moment, everyone's already listening. I don't give a flying fuck.
"Why do you always say this like you have one."
"Well, I'm a girl. What's your excuse?"
I don't even pay attention to everyone's reaction before leaving the table.
My bag falls open in the hallway, so I bend down to pick up my belongings. Suddenly, someone cups my mouth and pulls me towards him.
"Make one noise, and I rape you," Will whispers.
I step on his foot so he could let me go.
"WHAT THE FUCK?" I push him, making him stumble back a little.
"I was just joking."
"Miss Shadow, how many times do I need to tell you not to speak profanities in my school?" Me. Horne says, passing by us in the hallway, making me jump.
"Damn it! That man pops out of nowhere," I exclaim.
"Hey, Mr. Horny," Will waves at him.
"It's Horne, Allen."
This always makes me laugh, and today is no exception. Will notices and smiles at me. I fix my frown quickly.
He catches me by the hand and pulls me behind him. I ask him where he's taking me, but he doesn't answer. I don't stop complaining and pulling back till we reach the library.
It's empty as usual since no one comes here ever. I came once or twice to find a book to burrow, but I found nothing interesting. Also, the librarian is pretty strange; he's an old-looking man with grey hair that reaches his shoulders. He wears black on black all the time and looks like he sleeps in the library. He doesn't say a word to anyone. Also, everyone knows this library is haunted.
Will takes me to a spot behind one of the geography shelves, and we stay there.
"Why are we here?" I ask.
"I want us to talk about what happened and about us."
"Well, I don't. I said what I wanted to say."
"Nicole, please, don't be so stubborn. I can't handle you ignoring me like that."
"Will, I wasn't asking you to be my boyfriend. I was just asking you to show a little care in this. At least, pretend you do."
"I do. I really do. But I'm just trying not to hurt you. I told you I won't take you seriously. And if I'd known you were a virgin, I wouldn't have—"
"Don't say that. I told you I regret nothing."
He looks at me hard, and I feel his blue eyes piercing through me like an arrow. I stand still, and I try not to let his gaze affect me the least. So, I look back in his eyes and I see in them both, lust and hesitance, one is pushing the other, and I know I should be the one making the move.
I was also hesitant, but I was more hungry. I step forward, take his face my hands and pull it toward mine. I kiss him hard, pushing my lips onto his, assuring him of my decisiveness.
His hands move down my back till they reach the back of my thighs to carry me up. Automatically, I wrap my legs around his waist so I'm handing in the air. He pushes me to one of the shelves, and the hardwood hurts my back.
I part our lips to say, "My back hurts."
"What?" He asks breathlessly.
"My back, you idiot."
He carries me effortlessly to rest my back against the wall instead, and we continue kissing. I don't know how long we do it for, but at one moment, the librarian comes and says something for the first time.
"Assholes be spoiling my books," he mutters, making me jumps from Will's arms. "Detention for public display of affection."
"Fuck," I say.
"And for using foul language," he adds, walking away.
After detention, Will drove me home since Cody went with Denise to "study". What bullshit.
I invite Will to the house. We get water bottles from the fridge then go up to my room. It's a mess in there; my clothes and books were scattered everywhere. I gather most of the things on my bed and throw them on my chair. It gets messier, but at least we have a place to sit on.
I throw my hoddie somewhere and cross my legs on the bed, abd he lies beside me. Will reaches for the novel on my bedside table on my side of the bed, but I stop him, placing my hand on the book.
"No, I'm not letting you," I say firmly.
"Who told you I even read it?"
"I'm not taking any chances," I shrug.
Will didn't look like he reads books, so it was a little surprising when he spoiled my last book. I didn't actually believe him until I finished it and confirmed what he had told me. When I went to his bedroom the other day, I couldn't help but notice the stacked bookshelves in the corner of his room. There were books under and on his desk as well.
We were facing each other, our faces a little too close, his arm brushing over me. He brings his face even closer and smirks. I think he's going to kiss me.
"She's never gonna find him at the end," he whispers, distracting me with his hoarse voice, which has so much sexiness into it.
"Fuck you," I say, when I understand what he's talking about. He seems to enjoy doing this.
He starts playing something on his phone while I continue reaching my book. I had only about 20 pages left anyway, so I decided to finish now so I could start another one. I bought a whole new stack of novels waiting to be read.
The ending is just as he said: the heroine never finds her lover. She probably will in the sequel.
"I didn't know you play the guitar," he suddenly said within the silence.
"I don't." I don't bring my eyes away from the pages of my book.
"Then what is this?" He finds the black guitar that I left between the closet and the dresser.
"Kat gave it to me on my birthday. It was my sister'," I put the book down.
"What was her name?" He asks, probably reading her initials carved on the hand of the guitar.
"Nadine."
He just nods and says nothing. He starts playing random strings and then a strum.
"That's a perfect strum," I tell him.
"Here. Play something," he hands me the guitar.
"I can't play the guitar. I only know like one song, and I'm not sure I can still pull it off."
"I don't care. I wanna hear you okay," he sits in front of me on the bed.
I sigh in defeat, put my novel aside, and then hold the instrument in the right position. I first fix the strings, and then I start playing in the pattern that I was taught, making tunes surprisingly pleasant. And then I find myself humming them mumbling the words to the song.
Will watches me the whole time, not making a single movement, as if he's scared to disturb me while I'm so engrossed. I get really into it, and my voice starts getting louder bit by bit. My voice is pretty decent, if I do say so myself, but I still can't really sing.
When I finish playing the last string, I watch my fingers on the guitar for a while. And the only thing I imagine is that when I look up, I will see her looking at me with proud eyes and smiling face.
So, I look up. And I see Will's face, flustered and frowning. He looked like he just saw something but didn't quite comprehend what it is he's seen.
And then he's kissing me. And I'm kissing him back. And we're both kissing. Our lips move in sync; our hands touch the right places; our bodies move in accordance. We were programmed machines; we know how it's done, and we're doing it right.
ns 15.158.61.7da2
