If only

9 | Begynnelsen Av Slutten

Begynnelsen Av Slutten

Beginning of the End

***

Him

I'd seen her around school since MUNs ended; in the hallways, in the cafeteria. It had been two weeks since our encounter at Starbucks and she had not spoken to, or seen me, I think, even once. Arnold was literally following her everywhere, like a lost puppy. I would not be surprised if I heard word of them dating soon. He had gotten one of the guys to find and get him a copy of her schedule, even paid him off so he would not tell anyone. From what I'd seen during our fleeting interaction and Starbucks was that she hated being controlled, if her defiant bid farewell to me was any indication.

As I sat in Calculus, fiddling on my phone while waiting for the teachers arrival, I indistinctly heard the class door open and close, but paid no attention until a bag was deposited on the desk next to mine.

"Caspar, was it?" she gave me a bright smile, plopping onto the chair less than a few inches away from me. Her floral scent engulfed my senses for a split second making me dizzy before I came back to my senses. "I don't believe we've been formally introduced. I'm Katalina Eriksen, and you are?" She extended a hand for me to shake.

It took me a second to snap out of the fact that Katalina was actually sitting beside me, introducing herself, "Caspar White," I shake her hand. "It's nice to meet you."

"Yeah, you too," a strange look passes over her face as she withdraws her hand and turns to face the front as Ms. Evans enters.

"All right class, open chapter 2, we'll be studying Differential Calculus today. You'll have already studied the basics during freshman year, so I'm expecting complete comprehension. You've had enough time to rest the last month, it's study, study, study now."

There was a collective groan from the class.

"Ah well, how long could vacations last, huh?" Katalina turned to whisper to me. I smile.

***

"That was torture," Katalina groans as we walk out of class.

"This is just the beginning," I laugh. "What do you have next?"

"Absolutely nothing!" she says doing a small victory dance. "You?"

I look at my timetable; Chemistry. Well, it is a good thing I am good at it then.

"Same," I grin. "Wanna go out?"

"Ja, I'm famished," she states, her Norwegian accent heavy. "Where to, Mr. America?"

"My Mother is British," I shrug.

She lets out a musical laugh, "you're still American, are you not?"

"Point taken," I put my arms up in surrender. "I know this really cool pizza place nearby, come on."

I lead her to my car in the school parking lot.

"Cool ride, is she yours?" She asks suspiciously, looking at the red Ferrari. Poor car.

"Yes," I open the door for her, confused. "Why?"

She shakes her head, "no reason."

After settling in myself, I bring it up again, "you just asked me whether my car was mine; there's obviously a reason."

"It's just that Ernie took me to Columbia on the last day of MUNs in a similar car," she explains, frowning. "I thought this was his for a second. It's startlingly alike."