The Fight Against Loved Ones #TFALO

Chapter 4: Shocking Discovery

Happy Reading :)

I hastily entered the class and took the seat which has been mine for the past three years now, one of the last window seats. I waited for our art teacher, Mr. Thomas, to enter, while I scribbled my name on my art file.

I was concentrating on my designs and was thinking about my favorite characters in the new trilogy I was reading. In other words, I had already spaced out when suddenly I was distracted by an annoying sound of constant tapping on my desk. I somehow managed to bring myself back to the boring and bland real world from the colorful and wild dream-world of mine and looked up.

A wave of emotions hit me, nostalgia, shock, disbelief, excitement and wonder. I just couldn't believe what I saw, or rather didn't thought it to be possible by any means.

I just stared at the guy standing in-front of me. How can this be possible? This just can't be true. Maybe I am still dreaming. I should wake up now. I should...

The tide of thoughts erupting in me were suddenly seized by another series of tapping.

I lifted my eyes again to have a look at the guy and saw him smirking at me. I blinked my eyes twice to check whether it was a dream. I remember those deep, blue sparkling eyes, they were the same as when I looked at them for the first time. They carried a certain amount warmth and an energy that can charge you if you stared for too long. I suddenly realized that I was gawking at him. Immediately I turned around to stop myself from looking even more stupid.

"Hey! Jennifer?" he said. He remembers me?

"Yeah" I heard the sound of my voice. I was fairly sure that I was not the one who spoke. But I was.

"Is this seat vacant" he asked, pointing at the seat next to me.

"Yep! It is." I heard my voice squeak again.

What the hell is he doing here. I still couldn't believe my eyes. Jason. How can he be here? Is this the mysterious guy everyone was talking about?

By the time I came back to reality Mr. Thomas has already entered. Jason was seated beside me. I took a glance around the class. The class had five more empty seats, but he chose to sit right next to me. He could've been sitting in a seat near one of the other girls who sat two seats away from me and was stealing constant glances at him.

I think I am actually getting crazy thinking, rethinking and over thinking things. He might have had his reasons. Maybe he wanted a seat near the window too and as all of those were occupied he might have come to sit next to me. But why would anyone else think so intimately about a seat? Especially a guy like Jason. That's it. I am officially crazy now.

"Good morning students!", our teacher started addressing the class in a monotonous bored voice. " There has been an addition as you might have already observed. "

"This is Jason, the new student", he said without looking up from his tab. "He has just came to Abana, so he might find it hard to settle. I expect you'll cooperate, help him mingle with you", he said glancing at the class with a bored expression. From the corner of my eyes I saw few girls grinning idiotically and nodding in unison at the last sentence.

Jason had an smile plastered on his face, which almost seemed like a smirk, like he was evaluating everyone. As if on cue, the students from the front rows started turning around to have a glance at the new student.

Even before the teacher asked, he stood up and walked to the front of the class. Oh! That hell of a confidence that I could never muster. How does he do that?

"Hi guys! I am Jason Woods" he said with a smile and a tinge of amusement as he observed the class intently listening. "I am from Bridgeville High, a school most of you wouldn't have heard of. I had to move here because my dad got transferred, Yeah, sucks to be me...", he continued running a hand through his hair and making it messier than it already was.

"Well ! I hope you would accept me as your friend. I am really eager to know this place and its people better." He ended by winking at a group of intently staring girls.