by Ellis Marie
I stand silently, my eyes already moving around the room, trying to see who else was getting up.
Who is Mr. Night?
A chair scrapes across the floor behind me, and everything slows down as I realise I’ve already heard Mrs. Howard say that name.
No, it couldn’t be.
My suspicions are confirmed as I watch Trent stand from his chair. His giant body towers over the other students as he grabs his bag and makes his way through the tables, the smirk not leaving his lips the entire time.
Just how am I meant to avoid him now?
CHAPTER FOUR
For the last forty-eight minutes and thirty-two seconds, I have managed to not look at Trent once. I know it’s exactly this long because every time I have felt my eyes wanting to look over at him, I’ve looked at the clock on the side of the room instead.
Once I sat down at the table, I organised my things, laid them out on the surface and then looked straight outside the window and in the complete opposite direction of the man sitting beside me. Kristie has been sitting in front of me; however, much to my dismay, she’s chatting away with her partner from the moment they sit down, perfectly content with making friends.
Her partner is the guy that Trent walked into the class with and she’s loving the attention that he’s giving her. She’s barely even looked at me. When Mrs. Howard calls the class’s attention and everyone starts working, the room is basically silent. No one is talking to their partner.
Maybe there is more of a divide between the two schools than I thought? Although, I can’t really say much. I have been purposely ignoring my own partner.
So far, it’s been a good tactic. Even if he does smell like fresh pine trees and leather.
Thirty-eight seconds. Thirty-nine seconds. Forty.
“Are you really that desperate to get out of this class?” I jump slightly at his whisper, its velvety tone sliding into my ears and caressing my senses like thick honey as it sinks further into my core.
“Excuse me?” I ask quietly, trying to ignore the butterflies that erupt in my stomach when I finally look at him. He seems so relaxed, so at ease. As if he isn’t sitting on the edge of his seat like me. Like being close to me has no effect on him.
Maybe I’m just crazy?
He chuckles, motioning to the clock on the wall. “You keep looking at that thing every two minutes. You got somewhere to be?”
I shake my head, shocked that he noticed.
“You hate English?”
Another shake.
“Are you trying to get away from me?” His question catches me by surprise, and I freeze, hesitating before I answer. This gives him all he needs. “Ah, I see.”
He sits back in his chair as his head turns back to the front and continues writing without another word.
Is that it? Isn’t he going to say anything else?
I frown at him, waiting for him to continue but he doesn’t; he just goes back to work, totally ignoring my dumbfounded stare.
I’m far too embarrassed to try and speak to him again. That was so rude of me. He must think that I think badly of him, even after what he did for me. He was so sweet in looking after me, and now, I’m blatantly not talking to him.
That isn’t fair.
I watch him slyly, trying not to turn my head while hoping that he doesn’t notice me staring. Earlier on, I heard him take off his leather jacket. It takes everything in me not to look at him and see what is underneath the leather. Now, however, I’m freely letting my eyes roam over his body. As I do, I can feel my mouth growing dry with my tongue feeling heavy in it. Underneath the jacket is a tight white T-shirt that shows off how tanned he truly is. It also shows how often he works out because even through the material, I can see outlines of hard flesh—perfectly toned. He has the type of arms that you could imagine yourself being wrapped in, the muscles tensing as he squeezes you into his broad chest, your fingers curling around—
The bell rings, and immediately everyone stands, jolting me out of my daydream about Trent and his perfect body.
I really hope no one noticed.
I clear my throat and quickly stand. Noticing that Trent is about to leave, I clear it a second time, hoping to get his attention. He pauses in packing his stuff and raises an eyebrow at me, waiting for me to talk, and suddenly, it’s like I don’t speak English.
“I-I . . . uh, well, I—”
Amusement coats his face as he watches me fail miserably in trying to communicate. I feel like I’ve fallen off a boat and I’m flailing in the water, trying not to drown.
I take a deep breath and start again. “I’m sorry,” I simply state. He looks startled at my choice of words. “I’m not trying to be rude, it’s just . . .” I trail off, not knowing how to explain that my boyfriend is insanely over jealous and would flip if he knew I’m talking to him.
Trent smiles softly and lets out a breath, finishing packing his things. His dark hair shining as his head moves. “You’re not allowed to talk to ‘Bay dwellers?’” he asks teasingly.
“More like any male . . . ever,” Kristie interjects beside me and my mouth pops open in surprise. “She’d literally get in trouble for someone saying hello to her, let alone someone from your school.”
She sticks her hand out confidently. “Kristie Kennedy, best friend.”
Trent looks at her in surprise while glancing at me questioningly, accepting her hand and shaking it. “Trent Night,” he states with a smile. “And I see you’ve met my best friend Cole already.”
It’s only now that I realise that someone else joined our conversation, and I smile warmly at the boy standing beside Kristie.
“Cole Edwards,” he introduces. I shake his hand fondly.
He looks like a sweet guy; a dimpled smile coating his face and bright green eyes sparkling from underneath long lashes give that appearance.
Although, I suppose you can’t really judge anyone based on their image these days.
His hair is shaved at the sides with the rest coifed on top, looking effortlessly flawless. Like Trent, he wears a leather jacket over his outfit, but I can see a cartoon sticking out from his top underneath. Unlike Trent, he isn’t the size of a small mountain; however, he is still quite tall.
“Annabelle Williams.” He nods, darting his eyes towards Trent briefly as he drops my hand with a chuckle. “We sort of met this morning, although, we didn’t really get a chance to talk after Trent caught you.”
Kristie’s eyes look like they’re about to bulge out of her head as they dart between Trent and me, her mouth forming a tiny ‘O’ as the realisation hits her.
“This is the tall, dark, and handsome stranger that caught you?” She gasps. My face ignites in flames at her words as the boys laugh beside us. My eyes shoot over to Trent. He quickly coughs, elbowing Cole in the side.
Kristie smiles apologetically, a grimace flitting onto her face when she realises what she’s done. “Cole!” she quickly yells while grabbing his arm. “Walk with me!”
He doesn’t really get a choice as she drags him away quickly, yabbering about how she knew a Cole when she was younger. He stumbles after her, just managing to grab his bag before he’s yanked away.
Before she leaves the room, she mouths ‘talk to him’ at me. I feel like throwing my right shoe at her face. She really knows what to say to embarrass me.
I’m silent as I try to calm down the heat in my cheeks, but Trent’s soft chuckles don’t help, and it doesn’t seem like he’s stopping them anytime soon.
“I didn’t call you that, by the way,” I explain, his expression incredulous as he listens. “My friend Tom said that, not me.”
Trent nods, his mouth twitching. I feel my own mouth turn up into a smile. I look around and realise that almost everyone has left the class, bar a few stragglers who are at the front talking to Mrs. Howard.
“Look,” I start quietly, not wanting anyone else to hear. He gives me his full attention as he bends down slightly. “I’m sorry for not talking to you. I just d
on’t want to cause any issues for you on your first day.”
He laughs, straightening up and swinging his bag over his shoulder as he pushes his chair in. “And us being friends is going to cause me issues?” he asks simply, and I nod. “And here I thought you were just ignoring me because you didn’t want to faint again.”
I roll my eyes at his joke and pick up my own bag, following his movements and heading towards the door. “That’s not funny,” I scold, although the smile on my lips says otherwise. His grin only gets wider at my words. “I’m serious,” I state, trying to make him understand. “I don’t want you to have problems because of me, Matt is . . .” I trail off, struggling to find the right word.
Trent pauses at the end of the classroom while pulling on his jacket. “So you’re saying that if I keep trying to talk to you, things are just going to get more difficult?”
I feel my stomach drop at his statement. I nod reluctantly, not wanting it to be true but knowing that Matt would do anything he could to make sure he punished Trent for talking to me. I would rather be able to smile at him in class than have him hate me for my boyfriend’s actions.
Trent watches me silently for a moment, his hand coming up to his chin and his finger running along his jaw as if he’s considering something. I watch it slowly trail from his chin to about midway along, brushing his nail against the small pieces of stubble littering his skin.
“Okay,” he simply states. I sigh in relief.
This is for the best. I couldn’t live with myself if I ruined his last year of high school just because he’s trying to be nice.
“Okay,” I reply with a grin as I head for the door, but Trent’s hand comes out and blocks me from leaving, his arm like a barricade. I look up at him in shock, his eyes glinting with something that I’ve never seen before.
“I like difficult,” he whispers, his eyes trailing down my body. My blood starts pounding in my ears. My eyes train in on his lips as I watch them move, and all I want to do is know what they feel like.
He doesn’t wait for a response before moving back from the door, motioning for me to walk out. My senses rush back to me, and I feel my legs take a few steps, barely registering what’s happening.
He isn’t going to leave me alone.
I try to come up with something to say to him as I step into the hall, but my mind is blank.
What am I supposed to say? I’m glad you’re not giving up? I’m happy that you want to cause issues for me and my relationship? Am I happy?
I don’t even realise that there’s a figure coming towards me as I stand there frozen, trying to process the thoughts in my head. I only see who it is when their blue eyes come into focus.
Crap.
Matt grabs my arm roughly and pulls me towards him, his face etched with a scowl so venomous that I flinch back slightly as his breath washes over me.
“Where the have you been?” he hisses. “Everyone else left the class. What took you so long?”
I feel my blood run cold as I try to think of something to say, anything to stop him from getting even angrier, but I have nothing. My head is empty of thoughts and it’s as if there’s a voice just constantly screaming in it instead.
“That would be my fault,” a voice answers from behind me. I watch Matt’s eyes flick in its direction going from venomous to murderous.
“Your fault?” he spits, his grip on my arm tightening as he drags me to his side, turning my body to look at Trent as he does. My heels clack together at my awkward movements, and I notice Trent’s eyes flick down to them with a scowl.
“Yeah, my fault. I was apologising to her for this morning,” Trent answers casually, rummaging in his bag. “And I wanted to return these.”
It takes a moment for me to realise that he’s holding something in his fingers, but he softly shakes them, catching my attention. I reach out, grabbing them silently as I try to slow down my breathing.
I look at the object in my hands, the metal frame glinting in the hall light. It’s a few seconds before I understand what I’m holding.
My sunglasses.
“You dropped them this morning when you fell,” he explains slowly, his eyes trained on my face.
I know he’s trying to encourage me to act normal, but all I can think about is how sweet it is that he picked them up for me. However, that feeling disappears in an instant as I remember the other person in this conversation.
“Oh yeah!” I laugh lightly, putting them in my hair while simultaneously removing my arm from Matt’s grip. “I’m such an idiot. I didn’t even remember dropping them,” I rush out, trying to get through this encounter as quickly as possible. “Thank you.”
I glance at Matt and watch him suspiciously eye up Trent before his expression turns sardonic, a fake smile lighting up his face as his arm wraps around my waist.
“Yes. Thank you, Trent,” he forces out lowly, his voice barely above a murmur. I can feel my skin prickling at his tone. “Let’s go, Anna,” he grunts, leading me away. I fall after him, my body akin to a ragdoll as he yanks me down the hall.
“Hey!” The voice halts us and my head whips around in panic at the figure standing while watching us. “I’ll see you tomorrow in class, Elle.”
Talk about déjà vu.
Trent’s grin is obvious as he turns and walks away, whistling to himself obnoxiously while leaving Matt and I frozen on the spot.
I feel everything in my body shake. Or maybe that’s just Matt.
I gulp loudly, my throat feeling constricted as I watch him, waiting for him to move as the silence around us deafening.
“Let’s go,” he finally spits, not even glancing at me. I follow him silently, begging for nothing else to happen that would set off his anger. His expression is like stone as he barges past people, not even stopping at our lockers on the way out. I just manage to quickly wave at Kristie as I’m being dragged out of the building, her face a mask of shock as she watches me disappear.
On the way, I see the musketeers try to get Matt’s attention, their arms waving and voices shouting with laughter as they call, but if he hears them, then he doesn’t show it. His eyes never move from the location of his car and his steps don’t falter once.
His fingers, like a vice around my arm, push me into the front seat. I have to yank it out of the way to make sure it doesn’t get trapped as he slams the door closed. When he gets in the car, he doesn’t even glance at me. Instead, he chooses to slam the keys into the ignition and pulls out of the school in a matter of seconds.
As we pass by the crowds of people at the front, I notice a tall figure coming out of the main doorway while greeting the people standing around it with high fives and laughter. It makes me want to open the car door and throw myself at them, begging them to let me escape the tension-filled air that I am currently sitting in, but they don’t see me. We pull away without anyone glancing in our direction, their faces growing blurry as they disappear in the rearview mirror.
For the whole ride home, I am silent. The only sound being my ragged breaths echoing around the metal of the car. It’s better like this because unnecessary talking annoys Matt, and he often prefers for me to say nothing instead of making small talk.
I don’t mind it much; I hardly ever say anything while he’s driving. Getting a few minutes daily to just sit and think for myself in a peaceful atmosphere is sometimes the best moment of my day. I can think about whatever I want, whether it be a dream I had the previous night or a movie-like creation in which I finally give Matt a piece of my mind; the possibilities are endless. My head is the one place that he doesn’t have a grip on, the one thing that he can’t influence.
For now, however, the thoughts that flit around my head aren’t from my imagination at all. Instead, I’m replaying what just happened over and over again like a stuck record.
It’s hard to pick what, in that argument, will have made Matt the angriest. Is it that Trent is in the same class as me? Or maybe because I’m in a class above him? Or perha
ps it’s because Trent had called me Elle? He hates when Kristie does it, let alone if someone else does.
Occasionally, the wheel squeaks as Matt turns it; however, I don’t know if it’s actually the wheel or the sound of his tight grip on it making the noise. When we finally pull up at my small home, I feel as though I’m going to explode with tension and anxiety. The car halts with a jarring stop as Matt flies into the driveway, his door open before it even fully ceases movement.
I waste no time in jumping out after him, knowing that a delay will only make him madder.
I hate when he acts like this. It’s as if I don’t know the person he becomes. Like some different version of him awakens and takes over his body, their only intent to lash out at me.
At first, it started with just little snide comments or snapping at my questions, but over the years, it developed into something more—something dangerous. Before I know it, I’m following him into my house, the door closing with a rough bang behind us.
“Upstairs,” he demands. I obey, my feet flying as I rush to my bedroom, not waiting to see if my father is in. I walk into the room and stand in the middle of it, dropping my bags off at the foot of my bed slowly while waiting for the scene to unfold.
Matt walks in and throws his stuff on the ground while ripping off his football jersey and rolling up his sleeves. I watch him silently as he leans against my dresser, running his hands through his hair rapidly while clutching the strands like he’s clutching to his temper, trying to reign it in.
“Are you alright?” I ask timidly. He stills, his deep breaths echoing around us.
“No,” he hisses. “I am not alright.”
I flinch at his voice, the tone of it slicing through me like a cold knife. It makes goose bumps arise on my arms and all I want to do is run away.
“What were you doing with him?” he asks, his voice almost a whisper. I swallow my fear, wringing my hands out of nervousness.
“Like he said, he’s in my English class and he—”
“We need to get that class fixed,” he interrupts. I pause.
