"Dark are thine eyes, heavy is my heart."
—Mary Elizabeth Coleridge
The bell rang across the halls. Della Fairfax bolted up in sheer happiness as she dashed out of the classroom, screaming under the concerned stares of her peers. "Hell is over!" she yelled through the noise of the bell with resounding joy. Della took another deep breath as the momentous bliss fell over her. "Hell is ov—"
At least that's what I thought I looked like. Enough writing for today, I'm getting delusional.
At the corner of my eye, I noticed a silhouette walking towards me. I tucked my pen into my pocket, slapped my notebook closed and tucked it into a corner.—a dear present from my best friend Waylon—aside. I can't let anyone see me like some nerd.
"Della?" I instantly recognized the voice. Waylon. My heart skipped a beat.
"Waylon! God!" I snapped my head towards him. His dark eyes stuck out in the crowd, as always.
"Hey!" He snatched my notebook. "Is that the notebook I bought for you?"
"What..." I hesitated for a moment, feeling annoyance edge into my voice. "Yeah, it is, what about it?"
"Glad to see you're treasuring something I gave you.," he remarked. "Even though it's just a notebook."
Yeh, a voice in my head agreed. Treasuring it, but not more than you. But why stay sentimental? "Shut up and lemme look at your room." I snapped, half-smirking.
"You shut up." he tilted his head, amused. "Let's just get out of this stinkhole before we all turn into mindless book-wielding zombies."
I nodded.
"Notebook-wielding zombie for you." he winked again, handing it back to me.
"Ha-ha." I groaned as I took it. "So funny."
Wayton laid a hand on my shoulder as we started to walk. "So..." he scoffed. "You're finally starting to pick up writing, huh?"
"Yeah. Not gonna lie, it's good." I replied, although I was lying. It was tortuous.
"Told you so a month ago. And look at you now." He ruffled my hair. I wanted to slap him.
I ignored him. "It's a diary sort of thing."
"Oh, widdle girl writing about her dreamy handsome crush, huh?"
"I don't–" I frowned. "I got over it, what do you mean?"
"Adam's hot, admit it." Waylon rolled his eyes and pulled me over. "Got any crushes these days?"
Not your damn business. I wanted to retort, but I stopped myself.
My cheeks were burning. Not because he pointed me out. It was because my heart ached for him. And now he was pulling me over and asking whether I loved somebody.
Maybe it's a friend-crush. Maybe I'll get over it. Maybe he knows already. Maybe he loves me back.
"What's wrong? Thinking about your fictional character's dick?"
"You wuss." I chided, anchoring myself to get back into reality. "Maybe I'm not obsessed with him?"
"And maybe you are." Waylon touched his chin. "Oh, look, is he the one?"
Waylon pointed at a boy—Dariel in fact. My Science lab partner who'd watched me fail a quintillion times.
Dariel squinted at me and my stomach turned. Great, now I'm more of an idiot in front of him.
I was an idiot in front of everyone. He wasn't the first to see me fuck up anyway.
"Please don't, Waylon Morgenstern."
He shook his head. "Yessiree, Delilah Marie-Lynn Fairfax." But then Gaylon Morguensperm stopped.
I ignored him. "How'd you remember of all people?" I blurted out without thinking.
"Remember what?"
"My full name?"
"I just do." proclaimed Waylon, and then he spun on his heels. "We've been prolonging this on and on. Time to get out of this school."
"Fine." I hissed, taking it as a reward for his obedience. But I had to admit, I wanted to get out of school too.
YOU ARE READING
Spearheart: Children of The Night
Fantasy"Will this nightmare ever end?" thought Della, looking up at the stars. The lights shimmered through the stars, and then it dissolved-she was crying. Waylon wasn't here. Archer wasn't here. Not even her dad was here, which was the only reason she ca...
