Copyright - Hannah Pearson
****************************************************************************************
Matilda's POV
I closed my book, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. It was one of my favourites. Although many of it was what I would have expected, after working out his past in the first few sentences, I still loved it. It was calming, I guess, to live in a world that isn't mine. I shouldn't complain though, it's just that no one understands me at all. They're all daft. Normal people don't notice anything.
I am observant. The whole world around me is like a painting and I am the critic.
Shaking my thoughts out of my head, I noticed that the whole of the school had left the sitting area during lunch. Picking up my things in a rush, I scurried over to my classroom for the last period of the day. As I walked in I jumped to hear the teacher's voice yell.
"Do you have an excuse for being late Miss!?"
I looked at him and smirked. He was pretty stupid to not have shaved today because that gives everything away.
"Sir it's not like you care. You rushed here after sleeping with the secretary last night and for pretty much all of today." I laughed.
The whole class joined my laughter but the teacher reddened in the face and motioned for me to sit down.
Eventually the embarrassed teacher returned to his normal drone. I struggled to pay attention. His classes were really boring for me I guess. The main component is that I know exactly what he's talking about. It's the same in every class. Even if I take AP classes, everything is too easy.
As he kept going on and on about neurology, I noticed a twitch in his eye. Something was bothering him. I surveyed the situation to see that he had a note on his desk. Slightly tilting my head up, I saw a few words like new student and expelled and judging by the fact that the corner of his left eye was twitching and there were two wrinkles between his eyebrows. He was worried.
After observing, I could tell that there was a new student coming who was most likely expelled from his previous school. The teacher looked at the clock and his clip quivered. The new student would be here in three... two... one.
Three crisp knocks came exactly on time. A lanky guy walked in. I wanted to observe him but I was distracted. He looked directly at me. With his head cocked to the side, I could easily tell he was figuring me out. But he wasn't like me so I guess that's why he was confused. As he turned his head to acknowledge the teacher, I took a chance to analyse him.
I noticed the dark brown, almost black hair that cascaded down. Slightly curly, quite messed up, from that I could tell that he was smart and ran his hands through his hair a lot. Either that or he was stressed. His hunched posture made him look reserved and introverted. Slim arms then cascaded to his hands which looked strong, which to me, symbolised manual labour. But I look carefully to see that his right hand was more defined than his left. Right handed. So that manual labour could have been writing.
The teacher's voice interrupted my thoughts.
"Mr. Daxton, you can go take the seat next to Ms Everton."
My face scrunched up. This was his way of getting me back for what I said in front of the class. I hoped This Daxton guy didn't interrupt my solving.
I guess I never mentioned that. While in class, since I already know what I am doing, I solve all of the crimes that are in the headlines. Except I never tell them. It usually takes me a period or sometimes half. The police have requested me to help but I reject every time. I don't want to work with the police. My dream is to be a detective. I want to finish school first.
I focused back to my case, about the missing drug smugglers set loose in this country. A thought came about the case and I went to jot the note down, to find a hand already writing down. In astonishment I noticed that the hand was the same hand that I had observed earlier. I kept my head down as the hand moved away. As I saw the writing, I tensed up. He had written in scrawled writing 'How correct were your deductions?' He chuckled beside me well aware of my embarrassment. To save me from my misery, the bell rang and I gathered my things and scurried out.
I briskly walked through the hallways to my locker. As I opened it, I was stopped by a body standing directly in front of it. It was the same guy from class again! Didn't he get the message that I didn't want to talk to him. He made the mistake of talking to me again.
"You were observing me earlier with the eye. I'm guessing you've got quite the talent in deduction right?"
I picked up my books and backpack and walked out of the school to go home. Away from him.
***
The footpath on the trail on the way home was getting old, rocks were starting to stick out. I walked and walked and finally my house came into view. No cars were outside. Obviously. My parents basically don't live here anymore. They're always on business trips, sending gifts as apology. I rarely use the gifts. Yes, it may be ungrateful of me but I feel guilty using them because I didn't earn them.
The keys slotted in, I turned the lock and walked inside. Looking left and right I found that there was no difference to last night. Which made everything a lot more comfortable and safe. I walked over to the kitchen and got a jug of orange juice out of the fridge. While pouring it into a glass I remembered the guy from school. His last name was Daxton. I decided that he was going to be my first subject.
Walking upstairs to my room I sat in the huge room of mine. The walls were a light shade of blue, which reminded me of the sea, which is what calmed me down.
Laying down on my queen sized bed lined with white sheets, I spoke to myself.
"Subject number one, Daxton"
Hey guys this is my first story. Thank you so much for reading. Please comment or vote or even follow me so that I know someone is there. Thanks x
~Silentlystaring
YOU ARE READING
Genius
Teen FictionMatilda Everton can be described with one simple word. ....Genius Her family call her the female Sherlock. She can deduce almost everything about a person. She could tell if a person is depressed by the creases on their shirt. At school, Matilda is...