A Genuine Infatuation and A Theorem for Love

Chapter 9 (part-one)

 I surveyed my surroundings only to acknowledge that I had dozed off in a secluded part of the Library, the section which contained books on World-Wars and battles dating further back in history. Thus, not many students visited this area. This was the second repitition and I did not wish for another round of uncounciousness naps. The blonde haired boy had his hand outstretched, an amused smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

"Hi, I'm Zacharias Thomas. You can call me Zach," he said, yet smirking. I was certain he was on the verge of laughing, perhaps I appeared as a physically-lifeless zombie. I could merely stare blankly at him; I was not accustomed to speak on frank terms with any boy up-to-date. Regardless that, I was suspicious of his attitude. He could be a spy of the Northern ruler or anything in similtude. My eyes began narrowing at him by the minute; I would defend myself. And as on cue, when I began debating internally on the karate tactics I possessed, which were obviously Nil, Miranda bustled around the corner and panted heavily.

"LINDS!" she said, extremely freaked-out and hyped, "I've been searching for you the entire Library, only to head over to the wash-rooms, and then back to our Dominion. And of all places you end up here with our fore-fathers' stack of rubble with which you've fallen in love?!" I did not dare retort and tried to gain her visual attention to convey that we had an un-welcomed visitor in our vincity. My eyes enlargened at her and directed itself at Zach Thomas, twice. Gradually, the marks of hyperness on her countenance dissolved into confusion and lastly sprang into comprehension when she noticed Zach leaning on a desk with legs crossed. He had that smirk yet plastered onto his face, watching our confrontation and I dearly wished to smack him to and fro for his unnerving cocky confidence. Miranda jumped a step behind, clearly astonished.

"Who the heck is he?" she asked me. However, before I could provide her with a decent explanation, cocky-Zach chose to intervene.

"I'm Zach and I believe that you're interrupting a very important session here. Would you mind me asking you to leave?" Miranda and I gasped in unison. Her anger could be seen rising a notch. She was not a girl to mess with and her anger was not a matter to test and prod. It belonged to the risky waters'.

"You dare ask 'Me' to leave! When I catch sight of you ever again - prepare to flee and pee your pants! Come on, Linds!" she grabbed hold of my hand and led me away from the Library, leaving behind a very flustered-looking Zach. I giggled, his mouth was hanging wide open and the expression befitted him as an ornament adorning a lass' face, it was a moment to behold, extremely priceless. She made her way towards our Dominion. Each grade had it's personal Dominion, and students retreated to it when teachers were not present, to study or to rest durina a state of physical unfitness. To both of us, it was our refuge to execute prominent discussions and plots. We had to hide behind walls and pillars to slowly make our way to the fifth floor. Upon reaching it, Miranda threw open the brazen double-door and we swiftly entered the Year-10 Girls' Dominion. The Boys' Dominion was located on the fourth floor. The Dominion consisted of several circular tables with a trio of low-stools, in the centre; two large sofas at opposite ends with a couple of spherical cushions; a wash-room to the left; a small book-shelf beside the granite fire-place and a door to the right leading to the rest-room. It comprised of ten double beds and we occupied it when winter drew near, making transportation an absolute hazard. We experienced heavy snow-falls in Wilfred Hill District.

Miranda slumped onto a sofa, sitting in indian fashion and grabbed a cushion, clutching it to her bosom. I followed pursuit when Miranda rubbed her palms together and blew into it, " 'Kay, let me get this straight. You're going to get married and you're supposed to conceive right after?" she asked me. I blinked at her, it appeared very strange, the manner in which she drafted it. I gave her a tiny nod, hugging the cushion even tighter. She rose to her feet and paced the length of the room, very tensed.

"Does that make your child my God-son or God-daughter?" she inquired, stopping her pace with the infamous tilt of her head.

"Huh?" I asked her blankly.

"The child you're supposed to give birth to - I'm the God-mother, right?" she asked with a playful smile. I was shocked and began attacking her with the cushion.

"Seriously? I'm in the middle of a crisis here, against every whim of getting married and you're discussing the outcome of such an event?" I huffed and turned away from her.

"Hey, I was simply fooling around, trying to easen your edges of worry. It's clearly visible on your face, making it so... not you. We'll sort it out, Linds. Trust me," she said, offering her hands and welcoming me into a warm sisterly-embrace. Right then, I cried again.