Piece By Piece | ✓

4 | tristan

     A short girl with braided hair continuously asked him for his number while he waited for the minutes to pass.

     Tristan had been listening to Maroon Five's Harder To Breathe while trying to memorize the address his cousin had texted him earlier before making his way to class.

     Tristan wasn't sure where his cousin wanted him to go, but he thought it was worth a try since he planned on driving around for a while after his classes ended.

     Unfortunately, a girl noticed his new face among the crowd, quickly pulling out a chair to sit in front of his table, her red lips breaking into a seductive smile as she batted her eyelashes in a futile attempt to look cute, introduced herself to him, and asked him for his number.

     Had she not been too pushy with asking him out or continuously sticking out her non-existent chest at him, Tristan would've probably liked to entertain her some more. Too bad he was already bored with her lame attempt of flirting.

     "Maybe we could get some coffee after this?" she asked hopefully. Tristan couldn't even remember her name, for crissakes—he was too busy trying to understand what the hell she was telling him because she bombarded him with a lot of questions and talked too damn fast. "You know, there's this cute little coffee shop—"

     "I'm sorry, but what's your name again?" Tristan finally interrupted, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. He didn't want to seem rude to the girl, but he needed to know her name so he could talk to her properly, right?

     "My name's Macy," she answered proudly, completely unabashed with his question. In fact, her eyes lit up and she smiled even more; she must've thought he was already interested in her or something. "So, are you down for coffee later?"

     Tristan resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He hasn't even introduced himself to her yet! "I'm sorry, but I have to fix some stuff at my place later. I just moved in."

     Macy smiled knowingly and sported a seductive look, which, once again, failed to impress him. "Maybe I can help you out, I'm always willing to lend a helping hand."

     In his mind, Tristan cringed and gagged. Seeing someone try desperately to ask him out wasn't a new thing, but it wasn't always easy on the eyes, either.

     "I'll be fine, thanks," Tristan said sincerely as he could, profusely hoping that the girl in front of him would finally catch his drift and flirt with somebody else. He didn't want to waste time with her anymore.

     And if she didn't stop whatever she was doing, he was going to transfer to another vacant seat just to get away from her.

     Tristan waited for a moment to check her reaction, but instead of smiling salaciously or jiggling her flat chest, there was a deep frown perpetually etched on her face.

     "Oh, ew," Macy crinkled her nose in disgust, her penciled eyebrows scrunching up in the middle. "The freak's here again."

     Tristan looked around the room, his curiosity suddenly piqued. Nothing looked suspicious or weird to him, so why did Macy become instantly turned off all of a sudden? And why did she say 'freak'? Did they have a classmate who was some kind of an awesome mutant?

     His unspoken questions were answered when another unfamiliar face came into view—a girl with pale skin walked inside the classroom, her dark, wavy hair cascading down her back in messy curls, her brown eyes cold and distant, her whole body clad in black—black sweatshirt, black ripped skinny jeans, and black combat boots.

     Almost everyone was eerily quiet when the pale girl entered the room and walked towards her seat. Although accusatory glances and belligerent expressions were plastered on their faces, she looked completely apathetic.