Sonnet 43

Line Four

'For the ends of being and ideal grace.’

                                                                   ***

It was Wednesday when I finally mustered up the courage to actually talk to Adam. After all, we have the same first period. I slowly walked to the door of my room and was about to reach for the handle when a hand grabbed it first.

“Good morning, Evey!” Adam grinned at me while I tried hard not to remember his text about the reason why he chose the name for me. I smiled at him and waited for him to open the door, but he just continued grinning I was afraid he already went bonkers.

“I knew you’d forget,” he just clicked his tongue in mock-irritation and looked away. I just narrowed my eyes at him, arms akimbo. What is he playing at?

“There’s no class today, silly,” he looked at me like I grew a second head while I stood there, stiff as a rod.

What?

“Why don’t I know this?” he just chuckled at my nonplussed expression and finally opened the room for me to see for myself. Sure enough, there was nobody there, and it was only then that I read the paper posted on the cork board outside the room.

ATTENTION

HISTORY 17 07:30 – 09:00 AM
NO CLASS
STUDENTS ARE MAKING THEIR VIDEO PROJECT

-      K. YAP

“Why don’t I know this?” I repeated like a broken record. Adam, however, found this funny and just shook his head while steering me away from the deserted room, putting his hand on the small of my back. I almost jolted in surprise at his innocent touch.

“Maybe you were far too busy sleeping that you didn’t listen to her,” he supplied. I just nodded, not really trusting my ability to form a coherent sentence. Finally, he let his hand drop to his side and walked beside me when we rounded the hallway and into the stairwell.

“Where are we going anyway?” I inquired as soon as our feet touched the bottom step. I looked up at him as he turned to me, and I could see myself being reflected – albeit distorted – by his glinting ear clip. He shrugged and led the way to God knows where.

“Ange sent me to get you. Something about you not replying to her messages last night. Which reminds me, you didn’t reply to my text, too,” he looked at me accusingly and I had to suppress a whimper because he just looked so fucking cute. I pretended like his actions didn’t have any effect on me.

I sighed. “Yeah, well, Ange doesn’t like it when I text her from 9PM onwards, and I had a really busy night to even take a look at my phone,” seeing his face, I added, “And I didn’t want to disturb you from your class at Prescott, so I decided not to text back.”

“That explains it, then,” he looked deep in thought, “Although I hope you still replied to my text. Even a simple smiley face will do.”

Adam. Please. Stop. I’m dying out here.

“Why?” the question came out of my mouth before I even stopped it. He smiled. Shit. Stop it.

“Man, review class was boring as hell. It would have been interesting to talk to you virtually and not die of extreme boredom,” my smile faltered at his answer. I thought he just wanted me to text him for no reason at all. But of course, I’m nothing. He only wants to talk to me whenever he’s bored and in need of an interesting person to talk to. He doesn’t see me as anything more than a friend who can make him laugh at the ungodly hours of the night.