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𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗦𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗡 - Formidable outcomes
𝗛𝖨𝗦𝗧𝖮𝗥𝗬 𝗛𝗔𝗗 𝗔𝗟𝗪𝗔𝗬𝗦 𝗕𝗘𝗘𝗡 𝗔 fascinating subject for Rory. It gave her a special fulfillment that no other class could commemorate. She loved narrative history, where events are presented in a story-like format. History had so many fascinating and insightful stories just begging to be told, and it's chock-full of characters that seem to be pulled straight out of epic novels.
Rory didn't know if today was gonna be a trouble-free day when she saw Miguel Diaz for the first time in history that morning. She couldn't say that she wasn't delighted to see him that day, because it would've been a lie. The truth was that after the dance on Friday, Miguel had subsisted in her mind more than usual.
Rory had been sitting at her shared desk, writing down the notes that sloped on the whiteboard in her binder when Miguel came in. He walked into the class with his head hung low and shoulders slumped down, making minimal eye contact with Rory.
She furrowed her opaque brows at his odd ambiance but shrugged it off and stared back down at her notes, waiting for him to start a conversation with her.
But he never did. Miguel just situated his bag on the white tiles and positioned his body away from Rory, pulling out his textbooks. Rory's jaw plummeted to the ground when he finally faced forward. He had an enormous purple contusion decorating the border of his eye, and a bandage above his dark eyebrow.
"Holy shit, Miguel." She breathed, covering her mouth, "who grilled your cheese?" He gave the brunette an unamused glimpse, pressing his lips together in a firm line. "Sorry." Rory cleared her throat, biting the inside of her cheek, "What the hell happened?"
He sighed, clicking his pen, "I may or may not have gotten into a minor physical altercation at the dance."
"Minor?" Rory snorted, "you look like you got jumped or something." Her orifices enlarged at his lack of words and minimal eye contact. His noticeable tells and tics informed her of everything that she needed to know. "Miguel, who did this?" She asked with genuine concern, "This is not okay, you have to tell-"
"It's fine alright, I'm fine" He grumbled, catching Rory off guard, "It's not like they're gonna do anything about it anyway." He was right, the school administrators didn't really care about the student's well-being because if they did they wouldn't let bullying slide as often as they did without justifiable consequences.
Miguel saw Rory's cynical facial expression, and frowned, "I'm-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-," he stammered, "can we just drop the third degree and finish working on our project?" The boy asked softly.
