Into The Night

Thirteen

I was late for about thirty minutes for the first subject after lunch. One of the guards gave me a hard time before I got in, checking my bag before I entered and it did not went any easier when I got into Mrs. Hewitt's class.

"Again, Harold Styles, why were you thirty-seven minutes late?" She asked, while I was in front of the entire class.

I snuck a peak to my wrist watch and counted for a while. . . I'm only thirty minutes late. "I uhh, I bought some art stuff," I answered.

I'm not lying, but by art stuff, I meant spray paints. Even if the guards have checked my bag for them, I wasn't stupid to bring it into the school premises. Of course, I left it at the dorm room.

"For what?" She asked, her brown eyes strictly looking at me.

I looked straight, I didn't bother fiddling with fingers or making anything click because I wasn't nervous at all. I haven't done anything wrong yet.

"Impressions, finding about the truth, solving a mystery," I said, and by now, I reckon the entire class think I'm mad. Well, I like the fact that I get misunderstood anyways. It's fun to prove people otherwise. . . although I might agree, I am mad.

"And what do you mean by that?" Mrs. Hewitt had asked.

"Just colours. I like colouring," I replied the most stupid reply I could think of. Maybe then, she'll let me off the hook because right now, I just want to sit down.

"Get to your seat," She said and so I did.

The girl I was seated beside was a bit weirded-out. She has red hair and dark brown eyes.

"What?" I asked.

She spoke French quickly and fluently that I didn't understand a word except 'strange.' Actually, maybe, that's enough for me to understand it.

My eyes widened a bit, "Alright, pleasure meeting you too," I smiled and then paid attention to the class. Later on, Mrs. Hewitt got tired of asking questions to the class since oftentimes, I'm the only one raising my hand.

After classes, I made it to myself to search for Niall. I saw him head to the second floor so I ran after him.

"Hey mate!" I said, running out of breath as I've been running around, looking for him. "Neil Horan!"

He finally turned around, "What? Oh Taylor's in the Math department, fourth room from the stairs."

I opened my mouth to ask that question I should ask but it's already answered. I chuckled like a maniac, "How did you know I was going to ask that?"

He rolled his eyes, "A friend overheard you two. I can't say her name, because,"

"It's Jhanelle, isn't it?" I asked.

He laughed, "Get lost."

"Hasta la vista," I muttered and ran the other direction.

I was already tired when I got to the Mathematics department. I caught my breath as I waited outside the fourth door, wiping my sweat off and fixing my hair.

God, the effort I go through just to get to know who Riptide is. I could have just asked, but no, I'd like it to be a bit more dramatic.

I got a bit bored and played with my cards for a moment, playing the old few tricks I know over and over.

It had been a good ten minutes or so when a few people –some nerdy, some normal-looking– started going out of the room. I figured, some of them are from the other year levels.