Floating Face Down (boyxboy)

Chapter Twenty One

[A/N] I'm way later than I meant to be, but that's nothing new with me. Hopefully I should be getting more regular updates in but I have an allergy to schedules and yet I need them to get anything done. 〰(o' ~   'o )〰〰

As a reminder, Pierson isn't Patrick, Pierson is the one mentioned at the beginning who draws on Elliot's desk every morning. Patrick is more of the de facto leader of the group, but there are a few of them that are particularly unsavoury characters independently of him.

The way the class fawned over the very unreceptive newcomer was a little jarring. So many sparkling eyes turning his way, the girls, most of which waited at a distance for a while until Emma, who might be classified as the most popular of the girls, at least with the guys as far as I knew, approached herself and suddenly there was a lot of excited gushing I'd never heard the sound of before.

The teacher stepped out to speak with the headmaster in the corridor before we could leave for a good fifteen minutes giving everyone who was interested the opportunity to satisfy their curiosity.

The boys in the class asked him questions but tried to act casual even as they slowly circled in on him at the end of class. Passing each other looks as they leaned in around him, trying to size him up.

I couldn't tell if they were annoyed or gaining respect with how little Arran gave them in reply, his nonchalant, cold expression all they had to work with as he leaned back in his chair while we waited for the teacher to return to let us go.

"Why are you starting the year so late? What did you have? Is it cancer?" Patrick asked.

Arran folded one of the sheets in front of him for the seventh time and slowly looked up and to the side at him, but his gaze felt both sharp and completely disconnected. "No."

"What did you have then?"

He thought about it, seemingly, and then spoke. "A headache."

There was a murmur after that.

Everyone let loose with their questions after that.

"What sports do you like? Football or basketball?"

"Are you good at like, school?"

"Where do you live? Do live near here?"

He massaged his right temple and sat upright slowly, leaning forwards so that his elbows were just off the table as he twisted a pencil effortlessly between his fingers. He really did have ridiculously attractive features, even his lips seemed so attractive without looking the slightest bit feminine. It was weird... I really didn't think I had ever seen a boy more handsome than Victor but here he was.

I couldn't compare them directly because he hadn't shown up today, although he might yet arrive in the middle of the day.

Victor was busy, he and his parents all were all well known classical musicians, his mother as a violinist and his father as a flautist. Victor had followed his mothers footsteps and was under high demand, with an acceptance letter for a conservatory in Austria when he graduated sixth form.

The school supported him and let him take whatever time off he needed to practice and perform he needed, so I'd had very little ability to predict when he would show up or not.

But as much as I'd been head over heals for Victor, dragging myself behind the guy like a lovesick puppy, I still couldn't quite imagine how he could compare to the strangely magnetic features on the murderer's face.