Life Within The Halls

Chapter 9: "The Meetup"

LIFE WITHIN THE HALLS

Jayden

Wednesday, 11th February, 6:20 p.m.

On my fourth count, Sandra's resolve wavered. She ran into my car like Cinderella seeking her charming Prince. I was a charming prince to many girls, but she wasn't my Cinderella. She just couldn't. Her face was passable, though—good enough to fit the role.

A subtle smirk played on my lips as I asked, "Did you have to keep me waiting?"

She ignored me, clicking her seatbelt into place as if she were doing me a favor by riding in my car. I'd just saved her from four boys who had her cornered, but apparently, that didn't earn me any gratitude.

I overlooked her attitude, guiding the car onto the road, my hands gripping the steering wheel. With a press of the accelerator, I surged forward, the engine purring as I picked up speed.

Sandra was supposed to sit in the backseat, out of sight and out of mind. That way, I wouldn't have to breathe in her Chanel No. 5 perfume, a scent all too familiar. It was my mom's favorite perfume, one she'd worn since I was born.

It was actually the only perfume I'd known growing up. I never got to experience the scent of my dad. Neither Mom nor anyone else ever mentioned him, except for that one ridiculous story my nanny had told me—that he was Superman, sacrificing himself to save the world. Yeah, dumb, right.

"Do you live around here?" she finally found her voice.

I wanted to ignore her, just as she had ignored me. But after a second thought, I replied with a question of my own.

"Yes, and you? Where do you live? Who are you?"

Her eyes flashed, and she snapped, "You don't know me, yet you tried to harass me in the school basement, huh?"

"It wasn't my intention," I said, feeling a twinge of guilt. "My cousin pressured me into it. She doesn't like you. At all."

"Never even met your cousin, and she's already got a problem with me? That's her baggage, not mine," she said, rolling her eyes and turning away.

She had actually met Ella multiple times, but she didn't know Ella was my cousin.

I gave her a quick glance as I drove. The brown dress she wore accentuated her curves in a way that made me uncomfortable. Just days before, she had slapped me, yet now she seemed at ease in my car, wearing a dress that barely covered her thighs. I quickly averted my eyes. I was used to being stared at by girls, not the other way around. Moreover, Sandra was the last person I should be caught staring at.

To shift the awkwardness, I turned up the radio to avoid any more talk or looks. "Now, as we celebrate Black History Month," the radio presenter said, "let's reflect on the contributions of black musicians throughout history." Beyoncé's 'Formation' began to play.

After a few turns on the winding road, the school's gateway loomed before us. It was closed, as expected, so I pulled up to the curb and put the car in park. This was my first time on campus at night. Unfortunately for me, I had enrolled the semester after night parties were canceled following a student's death.

"Wow!" Sandra breathed.

"First time seeing the night view of the school, I guess?"

"Yes, but not the school building." She angled her finger, giving me a look I couldn't quite decipher.

Was she flirting with me?

She clicked her fingers. "Look left."

I turned to have a look and found myself facing the Ship House—the dormitory for resident students, accommodating international and scholarship students of all grades. The circular lights on its walls radiated like a halo, and the sign reading "SHIP HOUSE" shone like a beacon, visible from miles away.