Ultimate Confession - S. M. Casto

Ch. 6 Third Time's The Charm

Valentine turns off the ignition and quickly steps out of his car grabbing his backpack as he does so. He arrived to school an hour early in hopes of catching Rosia and giving her an earful. The lunacy had to stop. The gifts were both humiliating and unnecessary. He will never reciprocate Rosia's feelings, why can't she get that through her thick skull?

In a flash, he disappeared from the parking lot making his way towards first period. At the entrance, he threw the doors open and swept inside careful to avoid the bodies that stood in his path. From his perspective it seemed as if time stood still - the people became mannequins, frozen as they were stopped in mid-action; various flying insects that managed to slip inside hung in the air; a coffee spill prepared to splatter onto the carpet floor; a ball was suspended an inch above a person's face. Every act in the buildings were set on pause, but it was due to the effects of his speed (no vampire had the power to control time).

He glided up the stairs and through the halls. Less than three seconds later he stood in front of his class, breathless - not from the running, but from the anticipation. The door had been left wide open as there had been a lecture previously - perfect for Rosia to leave a surprise. But there was no way she could have made it. As it is she lives an hour away; add traffic, it could take her almost two hours to arrive to school.

From the looks of it he saw nothing out of the ordinary. He lets out a sigh - he was safe for the moment. The only thing left to do was wait and catch her before she could continue her displays of affection. He decides to take a seat inside - and that's when he realize what her gift was.

His chair, along with every other in the room, was gone. Firstly, how was she able to do that without getting caught? And second, who's helping her? Well, at least it wasn't anything flamboyant.

He caught sight of a yellow sticky note on his desk and approaches it with caution. He gave the furniture a firm kick to ensure there were no surprises waiting to pop out on him. When he saw nothing occurred, he reached down and picked up the note.

You can't keep sitting this out.

A mix of emotions stirred inside him, like a pot of goop that was set to boiling; irritation pricked his nerves. The emotions weren't enough to stir his powers, but it was enough to give him a headache. What kind of present was this? It was stupid and cheesy and, really, just lacking creativity. She was obviously desperate - or maybe she just ran out of ideas.

With a heave, he crumples the paper and tosses it into the trashcan. He leaves and sets off to find either the chairs she misplaced or a classroom willing to spare theirs. An hour later class began. Too distracted to follow the lecture, he turns to reading the expensive book everyone was forced to buy, but wouldn't need. His mind was completely engulfed in a boring chapter about Inverse Trigonometric Functions when, suddenly, his phone vibrated against his thigh startling him so that his powers slipped out of his control and attacked the chalkboard (yes, they still have them) leaving behind a web of fractures. The professor, who was in the middle of solving an equation, stumbles back, alarmed, unaware of a chair behind him and in the process flips over. Half of the students jumped to their feet, while those in the front, including Van, ran to the old man's side.

"I'm so sorry about that," he apologizes.

"Why?" The professor chuckled. "Unless you caused that to happen." He gestures with his head to the board. "Anyhow, class is over. I need to report what occurred. Everyone may leave."

Valentine returns to his desk and gathers his belongings into his backpack before leaving the class as quickly as possible. Fuming with rage, he does his best to maintain his composure - easier said than done as. Fine lines of crack stretched across the walls on either side of V, curling and slithering, indiscernible unless someone held a magnifier. He power-walked to the nearest exit and walked up another flight of stairs that led to the roof. It was locked, of course, but he had no problem with that. With a single thought and the door swung open. He steps out into the cool, fresh air; his hair whipping around his face.