[ A WATTPAD FEATURED STORY ]
→ #2 in Teen Fiction
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❝You're frowning,❞ he murmured, tapping his forefinger on one corner of her mouth. ❝I hate it when you frown. It makes me want to tear to pieces whatever has upset you.❞
❝Then tear down tha...
Carmen sat down next to Lottie during lunch that day. The chatter in the canteen was loud but for once she didn't mind.
Instead she found herself revelling in the noise — it helped curb the intensity of the loudness inside her. It was only when her surroundings were silent that it became too profound; unbearable.
And without her art journal, without her means to scream, this was the only way. Making sure she was surrounded by noise.
“So I'm guessing that's the popular table?” Willa asked, her eyes focused on a table somewhere past Carmen's shoulders.
“Totally,” Lottie nodded her head vigorously. “Hunter's one of the linebackers on the football team and —”
“Hunter's the brunette with the blue eyes right?” Willa asked, taking a bite of what looked like a Nutella sandwich.
“Yup,” another girl, with a single purple streak in her brown hair, who Carmen knew was called Joyce, chimed in. “He's so drool-worthy,” she sighed dreamily.
“He's a bully.” Carmen spoke for the first time since she sat down, her eyes fixed on Joyce.
Joyce blushed, feeling embarrassed and shifting on her seat uncomfortably. “Well, yeah, I know that,” she mumbled. “I was just saying...”
“Aren't they all bullies though?” Willa snorted, eyeing the large group of boys at the table with her nose wrinkled in mild disgust. “With inflated egos just because they have all the girls in this school falling at their feet?”
“You have a very disturbing perspective of the female population,” Carmen frowned, narrowing her eyes at Willa. “How can you think so low of your own gender? It's been just a few days since you've joined, how do you know all the girls at this school have no shred of dignity?”
Willa laughed as if she couldn't believe Carmen was asking her that.
“Really?” she scoffed. “Look at those guys! Hunter, and Asa, and all the other athletes and popular ones.” She gestured wildly to them. “They've got the looks and they've got the influence on the students. You can just tell by the way they walk that they're players, thinking they're too good to be settling down.”
Carmen wanted to say something. Something vehement. Something sharp enough to pierce the new girl's mind and remain there.
Instead, she chose to take a few seconds to breathe. To remind herself that the world is a much better place when she gave away a part of her heart rather than a piece of her mind.
“Warren's the quarterback and is actually having a steady relationship,” Carmen said calmly, keeping her tone light and pleasant. “And Grady, captain of the basketball team, has been eyeing this girl from my Art class for a while now; I'm positive he genuinely likes her.” She took a bite of her grilled cheese sandwich, swallowed and spoke to Willa again, “I don't know about the other guys, but I think its safe to say they don't all play around.”
Willa stared at her long and hard, but Carmen only lifted her chin into the air, her smile unwavering.
“Not all of them are players, then?” Willa asked, her tone suddenly taking a cautious tone.
Carmen smiled. “No, Asa isn't like that,” she said.
Willa's cheeks grew pink. “I didn't ask about Asa!” she retorted, glaring at Carmen.
“You didn't have to,” Lottie giggled, “the way you rant about him ever since your first day here is pretty obvious.”
“That's because he pisses me off!”
“Why though?” Carmen tilted her head to the side, searching Willa's eyes with curiosity.
“I don't know!” she groaned, exasperated. “He just does. His stupid smirk and his stupid face. Ugh.”
“Asa has a very nice face,” Joyce smiled, letting out a sigh of longing.
“Amen to that, sister,” Lottie grinned.
Carmen didn't say anything; what was there for her to say? Could she agree with them, when all they could say about Asa's face was nice?
Asa's face was more than nice. More than pretty. More than... Just more.
His cheekbones and jawline was something artists would spill blood over to draw. Asa was a thousand shades of brown and golden. The boy with coffee eyes and rich, dark cinnamon hair that made Carmen's hands shake with the aching need to sketch him.
Asa wasn't something as ordinary and simple as nice, no. He was the muse to the artist in Carmen. And she could sketch his face an infinite amount of times, but would never learn to perfect it.