Thε Spαrklε Tooƒus (ACT I: Fall Term) ✓

nine

A Confrontation?

Not a second passed by without my urge to murder Damien going down. The day went by at a fairly slow pace and each and every minute, Damien stuck to my side. When I told him that he 'wasn't my tour guide', he'd only retort back with a 'I'm just being a friendly classmate' as an excuse. And there was no arguing with that, was there?

Slumping down on my seat, I hid myself behind my textbook as the history teacher droned on about the effects of some war in the past. I was barely listening, which I could tell the teacher noticed - I certainly wasn't making such a good impression on my different lecturers the first day.

Instead, I dreamt about going back home, to my room where I could retire in peace without some idiot following me around like a chihuahua. 99% of the subjects I took were the same ones as Damien's and so it was quite hard to avoid him.

Even during lunch time, he wouldn't leave me at all. I couldn't find Nick and Leo during the forty-five minute break and so was stuck with the pest and all his idiocy for myself.

But I was looking forward to the next period: my one, forty minute lesson of release from the clutches of the stinky stable boy. I did Spanish, and I was the only senior in the school who took two language-subjects. I didn't want to drop it, considering I'd been taking it as a course in my old school.

The best thing about my taking Spanish here was the fact that Damien didn't. Which, personally, was my ecstasy.

The bell rang.

I bolted from my seat as several others did, for their reason of wanting to escape from this boring lesson, a succession of many others in their day. But my purpose was completely different. Jerking the zip of my bag open, I slipped my textbook inside before slinging the bag over my shoulder, hurrying towards the door.

Casting a frantic glance to the back of the room where Damien sat for the lesson, I noticed he was missing.

"Hey."

I jumped, slamming against the doorframe. Turning, I glared up at Damien who had that innocent smile on his face, his light green pools sparkling.

"How was class?"

"Leave me alone," I whined, moving out of the way to let the students behind me escape the refines of the history classroom. Their groans got to me and muttering an apology over my shoulder, I entered the school hallway and headed towards the direction of the Spanish class. I remember seeing it in the same corridor as the French room so it shouldn't be too hard to locate.

"You didn't answer my question," he said, keeping by my side as I hurried through, hoping to lose him in the sea of students.

"Should I have to for you to know the answer?" I shot back at him sharply.

A hand wrapped around my wrist, yanking me back, not in a painful way but it annoyed me nonetheless. Turning back unwillingly, I looked down at the cool hand that held me in place before glaring up at Damien. All traces of humor had disappeared from his face, now replaced with something that resembled desperation.

"Why do you hate me so much?"

Guilt seeped into me as my heart pounded furiously against my chest at the sight of the expression on Damien's face. He looked pained, physically even as he looked down at me with an urgency that his eyes could not conceal.

I opened my mouth, the retort I'd been prepared to throw back at him, slipping at the tip of my tongue.

"I..."

He waited, his hold on my wrist tightening slightly but not painfully so.

"Hate is a strong word." Biting back my pride, I said in a hushed whisper, "I don't hate you."

A smile broke out on his lips immediately but knowing he'd get cocky over me, I quickly added, "That doesn't mean I like you either."

Grinning, he dropped my hand and I let it fall back to my side. That ever familiar grin grew wider across his face as happiness settled into his features, which only seconds ago had held a struggle. "That's enough for now, honey."

Groaning, I turned my back on him, heading towards the Spanish classroom. But this time Damien didn't follow. I looked over my shoulder when I noticed the absence of his presence by my side, the empty silence devoid of his voice joking and flirting with me as I walked. His form had retreated, skipping happily back down the stairs with a small smile on his lips. I stopped for a moment, and watched until he disappeared from view, unable to help myself from replaying the scene in my head, over and over again.

The emotions that I'd seen flit across his eyes had been so genuine, conveying raw hurt at the idea of my not liking him. He'd needed a reassurance that it was just a lie and I'd given him that reassurance. But why should Damien even care?

He was clearly one of the most popular guys in this high school. The attention he received, not only from it-girls and athletes, but nearly everyone including the teachers proved it. Why should he seek the approval of a new girl, who hours ago had been a mere stranger to him? None of it made sense...

I shook my head to myself, snapping out of my thoughts. It didn't concern me. I shouldn't care at all one bit who or what Damien was trying to be and pull off. Yet, as I walked over to Spanish class, I couldn't help but consider the possibility that the boy wore a mask.

--------------------CHAPTER END---------------------

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