Never Grow Up {Watty Awards 2012: Teen Fiction}

Part Two

A/N: As I said before, here's the chapter! :)

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On to the chapter!

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"Alright class." I clapped my hands to get their attention.

The class was rowdy, but since I was basically one year their senior and used to attend the very same school, the students gave me their attention. I smiled at their co-operation.

Only one person was not paying attention at the moment, and my eyes fell on the black-haired boy staring out the window.

Blake had seemed like an overhanging threat to them at first, but then they warmed up to him as I hoped they would. They'd talk to him when they sensed he was in a better mood but as soon as he pulled a long face, everyone drew back.

"I want you to write an essay now. It's on 'Regret'." I told them, and my request was met with groans and whines. "If you can finish it today there'll be no other homework." I sang along, and they quickly pulled out writing paper and started scribbling away. I silently trudged back to the teacher's table and resisted the urge to see what Blake was doing.

This was my first attempt at trying to open up Blake's stone heart. It was sneaky and underhanded, but I had figured he had a load of regrets on his mind pricking his conscience and maybe if he spilled some he would feel better. Fidgeting with the papers on my table, I arranged them neatly before keeping my pens in the pen-holder and counting the number of lights there were in the classroom. Ten.

My eyes betrayed my will and shot upwards, towards the seat beside the window. I met the steely gaze of Blake Manson, and his intense gaze made me feel as though he had been waiting for me to look up for a long time.

Many would have dropped their gaze and avert their attention to something else but I was enchanted by his fierce eyes. We continued staring at each other in silence until a student walked up to me and entered my line of vision. My face broke out into a wry smile... he had some halo effect on me. Interestingly, I found myself wanting to be closer to him.

It was the same as approaching a tiger that said: Warning, I bite.

I stole another glance at him but this time he was looking out of window. His paper was still blank and he was spinning the pen in his hand with his long, nimble fingers. I frowned.

During the last twenty minutes, though, he looked as though he had struck gold. He started writing, page after page after page. Even the girl sitting next to him looked up at him in shock. I was quite pleased and excited, maybe the papers contained some important information I could know about him...?

When the bell rang, I collected all the books where they wrote their essays in, my subconscious grinning widely, as I held my hand out for Blake's. But he looked guilty and didn't look me in the eye, shoving it into my hands and leaving the room as quickly as possible. I didn't give it a passing thought and  exitted the room myself.

I retreated to the teacher's lounge and dumped the stack of books on my table, immediately pulling out the one with Blake's name on it and flipping it open.