Rumor Has It

Five | Nice

Five | Nice

It took me three weeks to realise Walter had always been in my French class. For three weeks he sat two seats behind me, never saying a word. I don't really talk to anyone in this class so that could be it too. I didn't notice him and he didn't notice me until today. Mrs Jean-Baptiste assigned us a project in which we'd have assigned partners.

"Each pair will be responsible for presenting a cultural affairs presentation. You will have three weeks to complete it." Mrs Jean-Baptiste spoke loudly, each word clearly enunciated with purpose. "The majority of the project will be completed here in class considering everyone has their own social agenda."

For the next twenty minutes, she went over every detail of the project and what she required from us. It was boring and tedious and eventually, we were able to pair up with our partners. For Walter and I, I just needed to turn around and face him but I couldn't bring myself to do it.

It appeared awkward for me. Well, it didn't appear, it was awkward. I despised group projects that required anything but myself and a textbook. Right when I built up the courage to turn, Walter was in the process of moving his desk next to mine. There was a loud screeching that disturbed the class, but he didn't seem to care all that much.

"Hey," I said once he had settled. He looked me over before nodding his head in some sort of gesture I'm assuming meant hello. "Di-did you have anything in mind for the project?"

Now, I've never thought Walter to be the type to be interested in our project. But that was an understatement, he clearly loved it. He briefed me on his ideas quickly and surprisingly, I loved his idea. After Mrs Jean-Baptiste went over our expectations again, we slowly began to pack our bags.

"You're the girl from the other night right?" Walter questioned slowly, his brown eyes piercing through me as he awaited my answer.

I nodded my head, "Yeah, I never realised you delivered pizza."

He made a nonchalant face before simply looking away. I instantly felt foolish for even saying that because what would he even say to that? Luckily, he continued to pack up his things.

"You're not that bad," he muttered, turning away while zipping up his backpack.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" I questioned.

The bell rang indicating that our miserable day was closer to an end. We walked out together before he finally spoke.

With no destination in mind, we fell into a slow stride. "You are submissive and nice."

There was that word again. Nice. I found it interesting that this tasteless word would describe me so well. Maybe I wasn't just an empty soul inhabiting a girl's body. I was someone.

"How could a 30-minute interact warrant that type of description?" I challenged, once we reached my locker, surprisingly. I didn't realise I had directed us this way. Like in a typical movie, Walter leaned against the one beside mine as I proceeded to open it. "Plus, you don't really know me."

He scoffed, narrowing his eyes at me. "You come off like you hate everything and everyone. I expected a little more reckless, but you're just a girl."

I was a bit appalled at his tone, "As I said before, you don't really know me and don't try to."

Walter stood to his full height, he smirked before shaking his head.

"I realise now it's just your resting bitch face."

With those words, he left me in the corridor alone with the idea that I was a submissive and nice person. The idea was very comical since our one conversation for a school project made such a description. And it made me think about how I've been avoiding Reagan since last week. Was that being nice?