Suicidal

Chapter 29: - Riddles and notes

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE:

RIDDLES AND NOTES –

I've always strongly disliked making a scene or an entrance even, particularly because (a) all abundance of attention is drawn to me, yet (b) and when it is, I often make a futile fool out of myself, especially when (c) I either trip over something which literally seems a thousand miles away, or I even fall onto someone.

So when I arrive to first period late as shit, I don't just get an obnoxious face from the teacher; I get it from Quincy too — whom I promised to pair with during our science practical. I mean, it's not like I deliberately ended up late, it's just that my ever-so-annoying alarm clock decided to hibernate for the day. And right before our exams, is not the time to hibernate.

"Miss Mendes! Why on earth have you just arrived now?" Mrs exclaims, completely unaware that I actually stood in the toilet cubicle (replacing my tampon) just 5 minutes ago. So technically, I actually arrived at school 5 minutes ago, not just now.

I stood there, my fingers grasping the cold door frame. It wasn't long until I replied.

"My taxi arrived late....." I tried my best not to tremble in front of all my judgemental peers. "I'll...just go and sit down...now." Although I could read their grievous smirks and eyes — they knew it was a blatant lie. I mean, of course it was. It's not like I walk through central London every morning to get to school.

Mrs could easily seek her deceptiveness through my deception of lies, and grunted as I scooted my way through the sea of my peers. It wasn't long before I sat down next to Quincy, who looked to be rather....flabbergasted.

I sent him a curious smirk. I knew he could understand sign, facial and mouthing speech.

I sat down on the green stall, surrounded by a veritable plethora of science textbooks and folders.

His eyes scanned the board, and when Mrs turned her back to us for the slightest second, Quincy's thin fingers wrote a small message inside his book; to which I couldn't read clearly. Then, he silently – which was a difficult task for him – ripped a rectangular slice of paper out of his book. While he was doing so, the whole set of actions caused him to accrue a unique fineness around his lean frame.

I began to read the note, as he slid it towards me. It read:

Wow! I'm amazed, you managed to get away with your lies, right in front of Mrs! You're kinda lucky to be breathing after that encounter with her though.

Huh, I grunted. But what Quincy said was true, our physics teacher was a bull let loose in a China shop. She'd search for anything to wrap her claws around, and when the time was right, she would sharply pounce on her prey as soon as she had the chance. Quincy was lucky though (and I suppose I was at the time), because he was a teacher's pet back then; I can't even remember the last time I saw him in detention for anything.

I nodded at him, and then our teacher's eye's sliced through the thick, hostile atmosphere. Like a clean blade, cutting through a moist surface. With her hawk-eyes searching for students to pick on, Quincy and I started our practical investigation.

***

The chairs and tables screeched, groaned and whined as the class reluctantly sat on them. Maths wasn't a better lesson by far than physics beforehand, but luckily I had the bubbly Olive behind me in the lesson.

Sometimes she would send me strange facial expressions, leading me to decipher them. Sometimes she would anonymously tap me on my shoulder blade, and look behind herself when I quickly turned around. Sometimes — and this was extremely rare, I admit — she would send scrap pieces of paper to me, with beautiful and horrendous scribbles on them.