Improbable

Three

Okay, so I probably should've seen this coming. My school is pretty strict, so they hand out detentions like they're receipts. No questions like, "would you like your receipt with that?" Nah, straight up you're getting one.

It was still worth it. I love butter chicken.

As I sit here in this large and empty room I can see the light fading. A beautiful grey sky leaves me breathless as I take in the view. Trails of raindrops stroke the glass, and I feel like I'm watching a painting come to life.

There's no teacher here. They don't want to sit with me, so they're down the hall chilling, probably finishing up reports before their weekends. No one else is here because despite the amount of jerks that populate this school, an overwhelming number might I add, they avoid trouble with the education system. They wanna get drunk on a Friday, not detention. TGIF, am I right?

There's no clock in the room to signal to me how much time has passed, which is probably a good thing if I'm honest. It's more peaceful. I could get used to this.

Bang.

Shit. Just as I was getting comfortable.
I look to see the door wide open, and a pair of brown eyes staring at me.

"What?" I ask him, unable to take my eyes off his.

"So this is where the delinquents go?" Jared asks nonchalantly.

"Welcome," I spread my arms wide, "and please take up an empty chair if you can find one." My sarcasm drips faster than the raindrops on the window.

He says nothing, and takes up a chair at the back of the room. What a social butterfly. I sit in the middle of the room, and it's quite pleasant anyway to feel alone. I ignore the feeling of eyes behind me. The brown eyes that contrast with the gray of this winter weather. The brown eyes that seem warm, but really have no light in them. Cold.

After what feels like an eternity of peace, it's broken.

"I'm not empty."

I sigh.

"Why don't you try focusing on the positive stuff I told you? Remember I said you were hot, stay happy with that."

"You think I'm self centered," he says. He doesn't question, it's a statement, he's sure.

"I think you use your looks, yeah," I admit.

"You don't even know me."

"Okay, I admit we've never spoken, but I can see you. You're not invisible."

"What exactly do you see? And by the way, you're beginning to sound like a fucking stalker," he seems pissed. Admittedly I, a stranger, am definitely making too strong a comment on his life.

"Do you miss her?" I ask quietly. So quietly I think he might not have heard me.

Silence.

"Yeah."

He heard.

"What was her name?"

"Phoenix," I hear him gulp. Poor guy.
I don't turn to look at him. I don't want to invade his privacy any further.

"She was amazing, funny, pretty."

"What happened?"

"She moved."

"What else happened?" I can't believe distance is the only thing that killed him.

"I don't need to tell you shit."

I turn and look at him. His face is red, but not from anger. His eyes are red and puffy, where they once looked empty they are now full. Full of sadness. My heart aches for him as I see his hands in his hair, his frustrated figure looking so small, while he himself is 6 feet tall.

I didn't realize but I must've gotten out off my chair because now I'm on my knees in front of his desk. My hand moves on its own and touches the soft curls behind his ear. He's shaking, but at the contact he pauses.

"She fell in love."

That's it. I move so that I'm hugging him. His tears flow but I hide them with my shoulder.

The jerk has a heart... and it's broken.

A/N: Yo! What do you guys think? Is Mary out of order? Is she just observant? Hm... much possibles. Read on. I will update soon 😄 but over the next few days ima struggle with the whole fearing failure thing... byeeee.