by Chloe Smith
Gaya pouted. "Come on Monica!"
"Well, dances aren't really my thing." I said in between bites.
When I looked up, Gaya was looking at me with puppy dog eyes. With her though, it was more convincing than most, with her baby face. "Ahh… Gaya…fine. I'll think about it."
Gaya clapped her pixie hands and smiled wide. "But I said I'll think about it. It's not guaranteed that I'm going."
Gaya's smile didn't disappear. "We have to dress up Monica! I already have what I'm going to be."
"Ah." The more I heard, the more I didn't want to go. "What're you going to be?" I asked, purely because that's probably what Gaya wanted me to ask her.
"Of course, I have to be the most beautiful fairy tale girl, so I'm going to be Cinderella!"
Despite myself, I smirked. Gaya would make a good Cinderella. I could see her beautiful golden hair swept up , a few wavy pieces would come down to frame her angelic, baby-like face. She would have some of those white gloves on with a fancy white dress that swept out that flowed all the way to the ground.
"What are smiling about?" Gaya said, with a suspicious look at me.
"Huh? Me? Nothing." I said, feigning innocence. That just made her eyes narrow more.
"What is it?"
"Nothing Gaya. Just eat your salad. You haven't touched it." I said, taking another mouthful of my lunch.
"Oh I see how it is," said a different voice. "Wait for me why don't you." Martin arrived at the table with a tray full of food, his smile ever-present.
Gaya smiled. "Of course I did." I just shrugged it off and stuffed my mouth again.
Martin scooted me over, and sat next to me. "Ahh. I forgive you babe." I rolled my eyes. He was still the same as when I met him. "So what's the new news?"
Gaya said it right away. "The ball!"
It must have been something traditional because Martin knew exactly what Gaya was talking about. "Ah. The 'No One Knows No One.'" Of course he had to turn to me right away. "Are you going."
I grimaced. "I already told Gaya that I'll think about it. I'm making no promises."
"Oh come on honey. Come with me." He said, scooting closer than he was before.
"Are you asking me to the dance?" In my old school, no one would have.
Martin smiled blindingly. "Of course I am. I could not-"
"Hold it Casablanca." I said, pushing him away with a hand in the face. "I said I was thinking about it. I may not go, and I'm definitely not going with you." I said it bluntly.
Martin just sadly smiled. "Ahh. I'll never give up, sweetie." And that's why I was so blunt. He wouldn't go away regardless.
I had to sigh. "Just eat your food. Our next class is in ten minutes."
I sighed again ten minutes later. Lunch always exhausted me. Actually, more accurately, Martin exhausted me. But what to say, the guy was just filled with exercise.
I turned a corner, suddenly bumping into someone who was coming from that way. Papers-presumably theirs since I wasn't holding any-flew everywhere. I didn't cast a glance at the person in question, but the mess that had been created by our bumping into each other.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Here let me-"
"This must me the commoner I've heard so much about." That stilled my hands, and I looked up. The girl was stylish enough. Her make-up was all bold colors, matching the bold red turtleneck cashmere sweater she was wearing, and the dark blue jeans that fit snugly on her bottom. Her heels must have been ten inches high. How could she walk in those was a mystery. She looked at me through piercing blue eyes from a porcelain, heart shaped face. Her vivid red hair hung down her back like a straight curtain.
"Um. My name is actually-"
"I know who you are just by looking at you. You stick out like a sore thumb." She sneered quite snobbishly. It made me want to punch that nose that stuck up so high in the air.
With her words, she stepped around me and walked away. The posse of girl who were following her passed me by, darting those snobbish looks at me too.
Had I met that girl before? I was pretty sure I hadn't. And with the way she talked to me and treated me, it seemed the same for her.
But where did she come from?
"Monica? Are you okay?" I looked up to see Denzel walking towards me, concern written all over his face.
"Ah. Um. Yeah. Just had a run in with….a girl. And she dropped all her papers."
"Well, it seems she doesn't need them, so let's just head to class. We're about to be late." He held out a hand to help me up.
I looked at the mess of papers. "But…are you just going to leave this mess here?"
Oh, the janitors will come and clean it up." He said nonchalantly.
"Really?" I asked hesitantly. Did they really just leave their messes like that? I would have probably gotten detention for something like that at the local high school at my house.
"Yeah. Come on." He waved it off as he dragged me towards Bio, where we barely made it to class on time.
Chapter 27
Biology was as uninteresting as it usually was. It was a miracle how I stayed awake in class…and that miracle did have a name.
Denzel.
No matter how much the teacher droned on about the workings of a cell, Denzel kept it interesting with our written conversations. He gave me pointers on how to win over his brother(which did seem to be working), and updated me on the football team, since he was one of the stars, and then random humorous jokes and lines.
Then there was one reason I liked talking to him, and that was simply because I felt comfortable with him. He was the only one I felt I could talk to without feeling like I was complaining.
I told him about Clinton and Martin, as well as Hilary.
But right now…he seemed upset about something, so instead of receiving a piece of notebook paper that usually started off the conversation, I was stuck looking at him. He sat hunched over his desk, his twined hands covered his mouth. His eyebrows were low over blue eyes that instantly reminded me of the iceberg from Titanic. Hard and unfeeling. They stared icy daggers at the teacher, although I doubted that he was even paying attention to what Mr. Fisher was saying.
I sighed and looked forward. I meant to just follow Mr. Fisher's movements from the whiteboard to his desk, then back, but I met those dark blue-purple eyes. Percy was staring back at me.
When he realized me looking at him, he flashed a small smile, and waved at me. I smiled at him and looked back down. Right now, I wanted to stay far away from anything that had to do with Clinton, and anything associated with him. Unluckily, Percy had to be excluded since he was Clinton's friend…and roommate.
I sighed again, resting my cheek on my fist. This was going to be a boring class…until I thought about it…Why did I have to wait for him to send me a note. Couldn't I start the conversation?
I pulled out a piece of paper, but paused right before my pencil hit the paper. What would I write to him? How would I start off the conversation. I must've taken two minutes thinking it over before I scrawled: Are you okay? You seem troubled over something…
I waited until Mr. Fisher went to the whiteboard, writing something about the middle of the cell on the board before I threw the folded piece of paper onto Denzel's desk.
I looked forward, so as to not get Mr. Fisher on us, but I watched as Denzel unfolded the paper from the corner of my eye.
He paused. Then wrote. Paused. Erased and replaced his words with something else before returning it to me discreetly.
I opened it, read: Yeah. Just heard someone was back in town…someone I'd rather not see.
Oh. I understood that feeling. That's how I felt when my aunt from my dad's side came to visit.
I asked if he would be okay, in which he responded that he would be before he changed the subject.
For the rest of the hour, Denzel was back to his usual self.
When the bell rang, I said bye to Denzel at the door, as we split up to head to our different classes. Jackson was at the water fountain, wher
e he started standing a few weeks back. I knew he started waiting for me. I dare not point it out to him, because he would surely stop.
Instead I smiled wide and waved. "Hi Jackson!"
In response to hearing my greeting, he leaned against the wall behind him and crossed his big arms. He nodded his head once in my direction.
"How was culinary class?" I asked. It was one of the questions I usually asked, tipped by Denzel that that was his favorite class.
He shrugged. "Okay." He always acted uninterested, but I could tell he was by the way he intently listened to everything I said. Like his brother, Jackson was a great listener.
"So when are you going to make me a cake? You know my birthday's coming up."
A tiny smile took over his face, and his face showed pride.
He loved cooking.
Some would say it was his weakness, but I didn't think so. Let it be his guilty pleasure. It didn't make him any less a man.
"When?"
"April."
When I didn't give the date, he rested his wandering eyes on me. They were such a deep black. "When?" He asked again.
"The 29th." I answered. The warning bell rang at that moment, so I turned, saying "Goodbye." Before running to my English class. It was my last class of the day, and it was always an easy class. But very boring.
I usually doodled on my sketchpad.
Usually.
Before I could reach for my backpack, Mr. Tobit rushed in, a little earlier than usual, his tie flying behind him with his stack of messy papers clamped under his arm.
"Alright. Everyone take their seats." He slapped his papers on his desk before addressing the class again. "Before we start today's class, everyone welcome our new student. Miss Niki Sanders."
That's what had stopped my fingers from reaching for my backpack. It was that redhead.
Things just got a lot more interesting in Room E3's 6th Hour English Class. I just couldn't help but jump for joy!
Or not.
Chapter 28
Great. Not only did I have her in one of my classes, she also realized the same thing. She took one look at me and a smug look took over her face. As though she were better than I was.
"Alright Ms. Sanders. Take a seat behind Ms. Suarez." Mr. Tobit's booming voice had just made it worse. Who knew what she could do to me from behind.
She slowly made her way down the aisle, her eyes glued on me. When she reached my desk, her pencil fell to the floor. As much as I didn't want to, I bent down to pick it up, and had my hand stepped on.
"Whoops." She said behind that perfectly manicured hand, "did I step on your hand. I'm sorry."
I had to clench my teeth. What was her problem?
I forced a smile onto my face, handing her her pencil. "Here you go." I said in the sweetest voice I could.
She smiled down at me. "Thank you," And only for my ears, she whispered, "Commoner."
I had to lock my body into position before I launched myself onto her, landing a right hook right to her left eye.
She walked past me finally. It took me a minute, but I managed to open my hand from its clenched state as well as suck in a few deep breaths.
But that didn't stop me from thinking about turning around and landing one over her desk.
I admit, I wouldn't mind watching her flip over her seat, her hands and feet flailing as she went flying-
"Miss Suarez!" Mr. Tobit boomed.
I snapped out of it to see everyone looking at me, the teacher himself glaring at me.
"Yes?" I asked in a small voice.
"If you were paying attention, you would know that someone is here that needs to talk to you." He pointed to the door with his thumb.
At the door, with one of those condescending smirks, was Clinton…the King of Avoiding, looking straight at me.
I sighed. Why the heck was he here?
"Are you just going to stare at him?" Mr. Tobit asked, a little irritated that his class time was being interrupted.
I got up, following Clinton outside, oblivious of the glare directed at me from a certain redhead.
"What do you want?" I asked to his back as soon as we got outside.
When he turned around, he looked annoyed. "I'm told to give this to you personally by my mother."
My back stiffened. The look on his face said he wanted to say something, and the subject we were on right now wasn't the best one to start talking about.
But he didn't say anything. Instead, he handed me an envelope with my name fancily written on the front.
"What's this?" I asked, flipping the envelope back and forth.
"What I'm asked to deliver." He said.
"But what is it?"
"An invitation." He looked away from me, crossing his arms.
"To…?" I made a gesture for him to continue.
He sighed. "Well if you would read-"
"Well if you would just tell me!" I mimicked his voice.
His copper eyes snapped to mine as he smacked his teeth. "My mom has invited you to dinner, okay? Happy?" I nodded. "You would have found out anyways if you'd just open the damn envelope."
I was about to open my mouth to say something smart back at him when we were interrupted…by none other than redhead.
"Why hello Clinton!" She said in this sickly sweet voice. "surely you haven't forgotten an old acquaintance?"
Clinton took one look at her and then looked skyward. His face clearly showed one that said, "Oh God! Kill me now!"
Then he looked back at her and smiled just as sweet as her voice had been a few seconds ago. "Hello…Gello."
Her eyes flashed a dangerous blue, rage took over her face. "Do not call me that!"
Clinton smiled…or that's what I would call it. It looked more evil than anything. "Why not? You used to like me calling you that when we were younger."
"No I didn't!" I could almost see the veins in her neck popping out. "It was Gela not Gello!"
I giggled. It did sound a lot like Gello.
She glared at me. "And why are you even close with the commoner?"
Clinton's eyes narrowed. "It doesn't concern you. My relationships don't concern you."
This time, that evil, twisted smile appeared on her face. "But it used to, didn't it?"
"But not anymore, and it never will." Was his response.
"And why is that? You never know, you may want to come crawling back to me." She blinked her heavily mascarad eyelashes.
"That'll only happen in your dreams." He smirked.
What she did next was very surprising. She walked slowly up to him, her ten inch heels clicking with every step she took. When she reached him, she wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing herself so close to Clinton that there was nearly any space between them.
Something twisted in me, and I had to look away from the scene. "I'll leave you two. I have class to get to."
I only took two steps before I found myself being twirled around by the arm, and he next moment surprised me to the maximum.
Lips. His lips. On mine. My eyes were open wide although I wasn't worried about looking at anything, mostly focused on the sensation of his soft lips covering mine.
I barely comprehended the outraged scream, and the angry clicks as someone stormed away.
I blinked a few times. Realized that Clinton's amber eyes were glued onto mine.
And I drowned in them.
Chapter 29
Monica was so engrossed in watching Gela wrap herself around me that she didn't notice that I was watching her. It left her vulnerable. Left her face open to show exactly how she was feeling.
The look, though. That look on her face now…it twisted my heart in so many ways.
She lowered her head, looking down at her clasped hands…the envelope in it. I was pretty sure it was so that she didn't have to look a us. Or was that me just hoping that's what it was?
Wait…why was I hoping. It wasn't like I liked her or anything. And still, I implied that we were in some kind of rel
ationship when I was talking to Gela.
No! That was just to get Gela off my back!
That's what you want to believe, A voice in my head whispered.
I had no time to argue with it as Monica looked up again, straight at me, face completely blank.
"I'll leave you two. I have class to get to." She said, even her voice was devoid of emotion. For some odd reason, it made me angry.
