T H I R T Y - S E V E N

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♛ Luca ♛

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♛ Luca ♛

"LUCA, VOCÊ ESTÁ ouvindo?" Mr Campos asks, and I look up at him from the little object in my hands. (Portuguese: are you listening?)

I only picked Portuguese as an elective because I didn't know what else I wanted to do, and I was already fluent in it, so I knew it wouldn't be hard.

"Sim," Is all I reply with, and when he turns away from me, my attention is back on the small white pick I move between my fingers. (Portuguese: yes)

I haven't put it down since Valentina gave it to me yesterday. I don't know why. I don't know if it's her scribbled writing, the words she wrote, how it's so blatantly her, but I can't put it down.

Or maybe it's the complete contradiction of it. The dismissal and subtle bitchiness of the words counters the act entirely because when she bought the picks to start with, even if they weren't always intended for me because I saw more in the small bag she took mine out of, she would've had to think of me, then think of the words to write, and actually go through with giving it to me.

And then there was her reaction when she gave it to me. In the entire time I've known Valentina, she has never been shy and I never thought it would be something I would ever see. 

But the light blush that crept up her neck when I looked up at her, and the way she quickly walked off the second Miles opened his fat mouth, proved me otherwise. And then, I found myself smiling for another reason.

I don't like how much emotion I've felt since she's come here, specifically a result of something to do with her, and it's slightly unsettling, but for some reason, I can't find it in me to hate the feeling of it, despite how much I want to.

The only interactions I have with most girls in this school are hookups or tattoos. Most of them just assumed those were my intentions too, and I got sick of trying to find a connection other than sex.

But then fucking Valentina came along and I've talked to her casually more than I've talked to any other girl here. I blame it solely on the fact she was put as my roommate. If she was in Clemonte, I doubt I ever would've talked to her, and if any other bitch was put as my roommate, I'm sure the relationship would be the same.

The bell rings for the end of the day, and I slip the pick into my pocket as I shove my shit into my bag and head back to my dorm.

Mr Willison told us to keep our uniforms on every time we have detention, even if it's after school hours because they want to fuck with us just that little bit more and be as uncomfortable as possible. 

I don't even think he's allowed to do that, but whether he knows it or not, I know it wouldn't stop him. He fucking hates us and every time he gets the opportunity to 'punish' us, he'll take it as far as he's legally allowed to.

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