Spades and Angels

Are We Still on the Moors?

Lolita

Monday

He's not there when I get into class on Monday. The bell for English went just as I managed to race to my seat, thankful that I hadn't been late for the quiz I knew we had. That and my partner was absent since I don't know if I had it in me to deal with whatever melodramatics he'd no doubt bring into my day.

Looking around I spot Jessa, Kourt and Cora all giving me half smiles, Cora also winking when she notices I'm in. A reaction that gets a laugh out of me for a second before the bell finally rings and a few late students come in. All of them are Mad's friends but not him. Thank fuck I wasn't ready to deal with that today.

"Ok, silence, please. We have a pop quiz first thing today so I want twenty minutes of silence to complete the questions before we resume our work on the novel Wuthering Heights, and our ideas around people and their ability to...mr Reyes. Glad to have you this morning." Our old teacher Ms Pembrooke sounds a tad out of patience but given who I know has just walked in, she won't shout. "Just take your seat, silently, next to Miss Alcaraz and I'll carry on with the lesson."

"Sure thing Ms Pembrooke, sorry I didn't mean to be late I swear." The sound of Mad's voice has me stiffening internally from fear as he takes his space next to me, avoiding talk which is unusual. Not that I was complaining after the weekend I had with dad home and on the warpath. However, it still felt odd to see him so quiet when he was normally so chipper and eager to get under my skin. "I'll try to be on time next time."

She sighs indulgently, "You do that and you'll graduate on time in two years." Shaking her head she finishes handing out the quizzes and I look to see it's on the themes of Wuthering Heights and fight a smile as I hear Ms Pembrooke carry on, "Ok, you all have ten minutes to fill these out before we carry on with the lesson in preparation for the work later in the semester. Your time starts now."

Instantly the quiet sound of pens and pencils over paper fills the room, everyone's heads down and focusing on the task at hand. I focus solely on that as the minutes tick by, even when I feel a torn slip of paper under my fingers when I'm finally done. Checking over my answers I look over to see Mads still writing slowly, expression a mask of concentration. That is until I see him look toward the folded piece of paper under my fingers for just a second before going back to his quiz. Clueing me in that he's the one slipping notes to me. Not that I can figure out why. Satisfied with what I'd written I put down my pen and turned over the quiz, taking up the folded note instead. Feeling where it's been almost turned into origami with how many times it's been folded up. After checking to see that no one was looking I unfolded it carefully, smoothing out the creases and reading the written message.

Sorry about last week, didn't mean to piss you off bad enough to skip school. Are you ok?

Taken aback I'm immediately defensive, worried about what could and will happen if my dad figured out I was blabbing. Shaking my head I write a reply, telling myself it will be the only one.

I'm fine, just leave it at that.

I don't pass it back, just fold it up and put it away, resolving to throw it in the trash but the moment's passed. Our ten minutes are up and the lesson's moved on. Leaving me trapped with the folded piece of paper halfway to my pocket. Pulling my hand back I slip it under my notebook as I'm returned to reality, class continuing.

"Ok, we return to the lesson by introducing today's topic: the moral lesson behind our novel this semester. Can any of you tell me what Bronte was trying to tell us all with the story of Catherine, Heathcliff and Hindley? What is the moral teaching to take away?" She holds up the book but no one responds. Not even me. I just sit and try to remember it, my mind suddenly going blank. "No one?" She sighs and is about to turn away when someone finally speaks up. Though it's the last person I'd expect.