The Pledge

Chapter Eleven

Olivia’s POV

We decided to work on the projects a little more up in Zack’s room so I let him lead the way. His house was exactly how I would have pictured it; big, fancy and expensive. His room on the other hand wasn’t. I’m not sure exactly what I was expecting but it wasn’t what I was presented with. His furniture was all wooden and none of it looked like a set. He had a double bed against the one wall with dark red sheets on it and a locker beside it with an alarm clock and a lamp. Against the other wall was a wardrobe, chest of drawers and a table with a laptop and another lamp. There was also a bookshelf full to the brim with books that I couldn’t read the titles of from where I was standing and a green mat in the middle of the floor.

Zack had walked in ahead of me but waited for me to enter the room so he could shut the door behind me. Then he walked over to his desk and started rooting through his bag. I took the time to start looking at his walls since he still obviously didn’t feel like talking. His walls were what interested me most really. They were littered with posters, postcards and artwork. The posters were mainly bands or movies. The postcards were from different countries. Some I recognised as London, others Paris and Egypt but much more that I didn’t recognise at all. All focused on old buildings that were by my opinion beautiful. The art was also beautiful. The sketches were all of ships or planes while the paintings were what I could only assume to be space. I was about to walk over to the bookshelf to see what he had but when I turned around I walked right into his chest.

"Woah, do you shove all the boys around?" I look up to see he has an amused expression and I can’t help but smile too. I had said exactly the same thing to him on Tuesday when he walked into me.

"Hilarious, Zack. Could we work now?" I raise my eyebrow and attempt to seem annoyed but I know I’m failing miserably since I can’t stop my smile tugging at the sides of my mouth.

"Okay, okay. What fun you are." He winks at me. "I figure we start on history since I literally could not be bothered coming up with an English topic."

"It’s for that reason we should start with English. We have more ground to cover. Also, that’s only an essay while history is a project so we can get it finished quicker." His face drops because he knows I make more sense than he does.

"Fine, I have the English sheets too." He pulls a sheet from the bottom of the stack he was holding and begins reading "You have a choice of two essays; Pick one poem and write and present a 3 A4 page essay on why it is your favourite including technique in writing, etc. Or write your own poem and write an A4 page essay on your inspiration and the meaning of the poem to you."

"They both sound like essays you should be doing by yourself. It doesn’t make sense to make it group work." I can’t help but furrow my eyebrows yet again at this idiotic project.

"I think his logic is since it’s the start of the year that making it group work will make it easier for us and break us into the year of work. But it’s still stupid." He lets a deep breath out. "I say we write the poem ourselves since the essay is way shorter."

"Can you write poetry? I can’t anyway and don’t plan on it...ever." He chuckles at my frown. The sound makes an involuntary shiver run down my spine.

"Yeah sure, I’ve written some before. We can just use those." My eyes snap up shocked and he’s just staring at the sheet. When his eyes finally lift to mine he’s taken aback slightly. "What?"

"You write poetry?" My mouth is hanging open.

"Is it so hard to believe that I can write poetry?" He crosses his arms over his chest.

"Yes, yes it is to be honest." I shake my head slightly from disbelief. "Can I read some?" This is when his face flushes red slightly.

"They’re not very good. I wrote them a while ago and I only have two or three." He rubs the back of his neck. I think he regrets ever mentioning it.