Dark Magic

10. Chapter Eight

SOPHIA'S POV

'It sucks wanting somebody you can never have.'

Dylan walked into class ten or fifteen minutes late, a smug grin across his face as he strutted in, practically slamming the door behind him. I looked up at him and smirked, still clutching to the pen in between my fingers.
Our teacher didn't even look up; he continued to grade papers and speak,
"Mr. O'Brien. Late again?" He asked.
"Define late." Dylan replied, burying his hands into his pockets. Our teacher finally looked up,
"I define late as showing up to something not on time. How do you define late?" Dylan pursed his lips, nodding.
"That sounds 'bout right. I'm gonna sit down now."
"Not quite yet," Dylan sighed, slumping his shoulders.
"Mr. O'Brien, how about you tell the class why you're late." Mr. Robertson announced with a smug grin. Dylan furrowed his brows,
"Isn't that... like invasion of privacy?"
"Well, Mr. O'Brien, I doubt anything you do comes off unannounced. So, please."
I knew something horrible was going to happen. I could see it on Dylan's face. The boy threw his arms up in the air, shrugging slightly.
"An act of sin and indecency," He replied, glancing at me quickly with a smile on his face.
"And what does that mean, Mr. O'Brien?" Mr. Robertson murmured. Dylan rolled his eyes,
"It means I got laid. Now that that's off my chest, can I sit down?"
The class erupted into laughter, only to be told off by the teacher. I smiled and looked down, shaking my head. He was such a loser. Mr. Robertson said he could take a seat, and he did so beside me. Kyle had noticed, because not long after, he came running over and sat on the other side of me, so I was between the two boys.
"You seriously fucked her?" Kyle said in hushed whispers. Dylan looked at him and shook his head,
"No. God - hell no, I didn't. She's a fucking psychopath!" He sounded mortified.
"Why's that?" I asked, turning my back to Kyle, who didn't seem to mind because he just propped his feet up on my chair, in the space I'd left.
"She thinks I'm dating her. Like - full on. When I told her I didn't want to have sex with her, she totally flipped out. She said I was pathetic and that 'she should have listened to what every other girl said,' whatever the fuck that's supposed to mean. Then she 'forgave me', and said she'd text me. I didn't even know she had my fucking number!" I glanced back as Kyle slowly raised his hand,
"I'm sort of at fault for that. Sorry, mate. Her friend asked. I don't know. I thought maybe you'd be cool with it." He said innocently. Dylan sighed, rubbing his forehead and propping his elbows up on the desk.
"It's fine. It was just so fucking weird. And I couldn't even tell her what I was thinking. I mean - I usually would, but this time, I just couldn't. I felt like I froze up and then I'd just find myself saying something totally different." Dylan said, almost sadly. I gently pet him on the back and smiled,
"Good luck, Dylan." I said. He laughed half-heartedly and shook his head, glancing down at my paper.
"What the hell were you guys doing?" He muttered, lifting my hand up so he could get a better look at what was written on the sheet.
"Revision for the big test on Wednesday." Kyle said enthusiastically. Dylan looked up, horrified.
"There's a test on Wednesday?" He whispered. I couldn't help but laugh at him,
"Sure is. I could help you guys study, if you like." I offered.
"Nah, I'm good at chem. Dylan - however. Yeah, you're going to have to spend nights at his house." Kyle said sarcastically. Dylan smiled,
"I'd like that, Sophia." He said innocently. I smiled and nodded,
"Me too." I looked back down and picked up my pen, which I hadn't even noticed I'd dropped, focussing on the paper.
"I'll be back, I'm gonna get my stuff." Kyle said, standing up and walking behind me, returning to the back of the room. Dylan was watching me write down answers, staring intently before sighing.
"I'm really shit at science. I only picked it because I didn't want to do Metal Works."
"I did metal works in eighth grade," I murmured, looking up at him. "I nearly cut off my finger." He laughed lightly,
"Seriously? How?"
"Well, my partner was this kid named Riley Dawson, I think he still goes here, and back in eighth grade, I'm pretty sure the only way he could get through school was if he was totally stoned, and this one time, I was working on a stupid little tool box and he thought it'd be cool to help, so as you do, he snatched the box and I stumbled, slamming my hand down right beside where the blade was spinning. I don't even remember what I was doing - I think I was cutting off all the like...spiky...parts of the box. So - that happened. I was totally traumatized, so I went home." I explained, reliving the horrifying experience and scrunching up my nose. He laughed, shaking his head.
"Well, shit." His attention was torn off of me as a guy approached us,
"Hey, Dyl." He said happily. Dylan looked to him and smiled, doing that weird thing guys do. Ya' know...when they like clap hands together and sort of leave it there for a bit...I don't know what its called. But that's what they did, and that's as good as an explanation I'm giving.
"Sup, Brodie?" Dylan replied.
"Party at mine Wednesday night - to...'celebrate' finishing the chem exam. You should come chill for a bit."
"Yeah, I'll think about it. Text me tonight anyway to tell me what time and all - I'll probably have made up my mind by then." Brodie nodded and returned to his seat, and Dylan turned to face me, before grinning.
"So, Sophia, want to come to a party with me on Wednesday?"