searching for a fallen star

Chapter 2: A strangest turn of events

"Okay guys! Time's up, pens done! No more writing please!" 

I drop my pen on the table, and sigh with relief. The chemistry exam wasn't half as bad I had thought it would be. And I admit it; I would not have been able to answer as well as I did without the assistance of a certain... teacher. 

Shaking my head, I rush out the classroom, wanting to avoid the usual chatter of other students as they discuss what she wrote for that question, and what he wrote for that question. As relieved as I may feel, I still have a massive headache and dry eyes and all I want to do is catch up on some sleep. 

Thank god I have no more classes for today.

Sighing, I walk past a garden of white daisies aligned along the pavement. The school, you could say, had gone through a gardening phase a couple years back where every student had to participate in planting flowers and watering them and etc etc, and so even to this day, there are still random clusters of plants scattered throughout the entire school playground. As I narrowly miss a tiny stalk protruding from a crack in the concrete, I let my thoughts wander to black hoodies and messy hair and --

Holy shoot.

I did not just think about what I think I thought about.

Maybe I'm just too tired. An overload of chemistry can surely cause my brain to malfunction.

Yes Anna, you're doing a very good job at fooling yourself. 

I groan at my own internal sarcasm. 

I really need some sleep. Rubbing my eyes, I exit the school. 

---

"Hey!"

Huh? 

I turn around abruptly, spotting a black-clad figure jogging towards me. I squint my eyes. It almost looks like --

"Schoolgirl!"

Holy shoot. It is him. 

"Schoolgirl!"

I cast him my deepest scowl, trying to ignore the drumming in my ears. "What are you doing here?"

He grins, two dimples appearing as he catches up to me. "I came to find you." 

"What?"

"I figured since you were one stop further than me and this is the only high school around here that you'd be here and..." He babbles on, out of breath, a slight blush appearing on his cheeks.

"You're blushing," I lightly tease, but inside, all I can think about is that he is here for me. 

He touches his right cheek. "Yeah, I guess I am." He laughs shyily. 

For a moment, we stare at each other, smiling awkwardly, unsure what to say. A driver blares his horn at us, yelling, "Just kiss her already!", before driving off.

I blush. Fiercely.

"I... I don't even know your name yet."

He extends his hand out. "I'm Oliver."

"Anna." I shake his hand firmly. His grip is warm and calloused and... safe. I let go, suddenly shivering.

"You alright?" His eyebrows are furrowed, his lips pursed in concern.

I nod, wondering where on the earth the cocky, winking teacher has disappeared to. 

"Why did you want to find me?" I start to walk towards the train station, and he falls in pace with me.

"I... um... you see, it's..." he mumbles. I bite my bottom lip to stop myself from bursting into laughter.

"Yes?" I gently urge him.

"I was wondering if you wanted to maybe, if you want, to go on a... date with me?" 

My heart stops. 

Holy shoot. 

"I-I... But you're a teacher."

As soon as those words come out of my mouth, I regret it. His face immediately falls and darkens.

"Forget I asked."

He stalks away, hands thrusted into his pockets.

"Wait! Wait!" I run after him, not caring that my head is exploding with pain. 

"What?" His eyes have lost their previous humour. Deep black has become hollow black.

Hollow black spells dangerous.

I take an unsure step backwards.

"I-I... I just don't understand why you'd want to date me."

"I don't." His voice is laced with darkness. 

I force myself not to take another step back, and instead, pry his hand from his pocket, holding onto it. He tenses but doesn't let go. That is a good sign, at least.

"Please tell me." I whisper, and take a daring step forward.

Fleeting hesitation passes across his face. 

"I'm not a teacher."

Oh.

"And I like you, so please. Anna." My heart flits at his small and vulnerable voice whispering my name. His grip tightens, and there is a hungry desperation in his eyes.

I want to press him for more answers, like why he would lie about being a teacher and why he would out of the blue take a fancy in me, but as I stare into his broken black eyes, I know that all these questions can wait for later.

I reach for his other hand and hold onto it, feeling his heat pulse through my fingers. "Okay Oliver."

He smiles timidly. "Really?"

"Really."