Because favours are priced...
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"You have an insatiable desire for trouble Camille Sanders. You'll never just be satisfied. You're like me, too wild for the world."
I laugh at the outrageousness. "You're dramatic I'll give you that Michae...
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I had heard about his arrival through the whispers, but I wasn't prepared to see him in person again. I'd stopped going through the news after the statement came out first that fateful Friday.
It had been exactly a week before he came back to school. He'd skipped Econ, but the royal table was something he couldn't avoid.
A stillness fell over the entire cafeteria as he strode in. He seemed to be his usual self, confident and playful. His walk was slow, meticulous...almost strategic.
I turned away before he caught my eyes and tried to tamp down my overthinking brain. He was putting on an armour. That much was obvious. If this guy couldn't handle a little blow to his ego from me, he definitely couldn't stand the media and his classmates scrutinising him in an entirely different way.
Before it was just pure harmless fun. Little gossips and articles on a playboy. This was long term damage. And I couldn't help but smile a little at the karma that bit him back.
He sits down on the empty throne that awaited him for two weeks, right across mine. I spot Isaac's easy going smile directed at the devil, but hold my tongue from snapping. I had told them to go back to normal. I can't go chastising them now.
On top of that, this was their best friend. I was the outsider and the victim. I look towards Katrina only to find her looking at me. Her high eyebrows asked me the unspoken question.
Are you okay?
I give her a slight nod with a little smile. It was strange to have her on my side. But the Regina wannabe is one of the strongest people I know, and a decent friend when you aren't going to cross her.
"Welcome back from the dead Thompson." Isaac starts.
His words seem to set the tone for the table and the entire room. The pin-drop silence finally gets immersed by whispers and light conversations.
The boy sitting there indeed look like he just crawled out of a coffin set to be buried. The pristine suit was meeting every school code, the blue coat fit to perfection. The gelled back brown hair was different from his usual effortless messy appearance. His shoulders were set straight, prepared for anything as if he were on the field.
And he was avoiding my eyes. Which was completely fine by me.
I see him nod back at his best friend, "Thanks."
The heavy strain doesn't go unnoticed. The silence comes back, so thick you need a butcher's knife. Despite being the best liars and charmers in the whole school, none of them could spin a way to avoid the awkwardness. I was tempted to call them out.
But instead, I grabbed my phone and drink, then stood up. All eyes seemed to be on me as I nodded to the members of the table and stalked out of the room. It seemed to be the best option.
How does one react to the unavoidable presence of the person who wronged them in an irrevocable way?
I don't know. There is no right or wrong way to react, I'll tell you that. Look at how I reacted to my dad marrying his side chick. I chuckle lightly.
