The Fight Club Academy

06

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"We are his best men."

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It was early in the morning when I rested my chin inside my palm, blankly looking to the front. The lecture hall was crowded, the reading had just finished. Mr Gibson displayed the following assignments on the whiteboard behind him, giving his last few instructions before leaving.

I couldn't concentrate, nor was I motivated for any assignments. A frustrated moan escaped me. I felt miserable today, my muscles aching, my rib was still in pain. My mind continuously wandered to Jennifer and Nicole, wondering what the matter about them could be. Various scenarios swirled in my head, causing it to throb almost, yet nothing made sense. I hadn't seen them together once. But they definitely shared a past.

I looked up to see a blonde student walk towards me. I straightened up in my seat as she smiled warmly upon noticing that I was alone, "Do you want to work on this to-"

She was cut off when someone else popped behind her, tapping her shoulder. A familiar face got in the way. It was Brandon Williams. He leaned closer, whispering something in her ear. Whatever he had said caused her to throw me an apologetic nod before glancing around to search for another student to partner up with.

"Really, Brandon?" I murmured, my eyes following him as he pulled the chair next to me, making a screeching sound. I winced, frowning.

"Yes, really." Brandon grinned, mimicking my tone. He spread his arms on the table, resting his head on top. A deep sigh left him, followed by a long yawn.

"What?" He cocked his brow, surprised, "Aren't you pleased to see me?"

"No."

He rolled his eyes, "Just because my friend beat you up doesn't mean that we can't be friends."

"What a nice way to put it," I muttered, glancing away, trying to ignore his presence. But it was a struggle. I opened my laptop, scanning the pages of my assignment. I began to type a few notes - however, my eyes travelled to the lean man next to me every so often. He had shut his eyes, his fingers tapping onto the wooden surface, his lips formed in a pout. He was obviously bored.

"Why are you here?" I asked, leaning back.

"I don't have anything to do."

"And the best thing you could think of to kill some time was to sit here with me?"

"Mhmm." He nodded with his eyes still tightly shut.

"I'm not very talkative."

"I can see that," He stated, "And you're not very interesting, either."

"Then leave, goddamnit." My hands balled into fists, my jaw locked.

"Not going to happen," Brandon sat upright, a strange emotion flickered in his orbs, scanning my features. The corners of his lips curved up, "I don't get what there is about you, but Shawn wants me to keep an eye on you."

I couldn't comprehend what this behaviour was about, dancing attendance on me lately, one after another. His eyes didn't leave mine, his grin widening the more my expression turned into a confused muddle.

"You're annoying." I sighed, finally turning away. I felt as if he'd take a look inside me if I stared at him longer. I was about to start typing again, my fingers hovering above the keyboard when a thought crossed my mind.