My Favourite Geek

30.You'll look good in any colour.

Yvonne's POV

“Who is it?” A voice with a British accent asks.

“You know who, Hugh.” Dallas answers, irritation clearly shown in his tone and countenance.

“Oh. It's you.” He mentions. The big gate slides open, revealing a very handsome guy who looks to be in our age group, with black, rough looking hair and light blue eyes. With discretion, I squint a little to inspect if those eyes are actually real. It's like blue almost turning white! Isn't that inhuman?

Heh.

Inhumans.

I haven't been following up on that series lately.

Focus. Yvonne.

He has this bored but irritated face as though he doesn't enjoy the thought of Dallas breathing air from the same atmosphere as he. Why is that though?

Dallas has the exact same expression, although you could tell that they look like friends that are at loggerheads and that probably want to reconcile, but their manly, ‘Tower of Babel’ sized egos wouldn't allow them to.

“Wow, look. He really did open the gate this time. Yay Hugh.” Dallas sarcastically remarks.

Hugh scowls at him before his gaze shifts to me. I notice and shift my gaze from Dallas to him as well.

Why was I gazing at Geeky over here, you may ask?

It's quite a funny story. You see, what happened was I don't owe anyone any explanation. So, just because.

I gazed at him just because.

Anyway, Hugh's countenance changes slightly. He looks me up and then down, nodding his head in approval and I feel quite proud of myself. I've always felt proud of the attention I get due to my looks. I sincerely do not apologize if I'm bragging; that's just who I am, bissh.

“She's looking nice.”

“Thank you.” I answer. I feel I should acknowledge that he has spoken.

“So, why and how is she here with you? Did she miss her way?” Dallas doesn't answer. Hugh asks me then with a smirk on his face, “Miss, did you miss your way?” That accent is so nice to hear. Plus, I can't overlook the fact that two misses were used in that sentence in different contexts.

English is really a crazy language. I mean, how is it that the human race isn't even an actual race, and that French fries didn't originate from France? That one just blows my mind.

Back to the paragraph.

I see what's happening. Hugh believes that Dallas can never have a girl stay within a five mile radius from him. So proving him wrong, I reply, with wide innocent eyes and subtle force.

“No, sir. I didn't miss my way. I actually came here with Dallas. In his car. From the same school.” I want to say And I've lived with him before, but that's just weird. “And my name's not Miss, it's Yvonne. Pissed to meet you.”

“Ah...” He whisper-yells at Dallas. “She's feisty.”

Dallas replies with a smirk on his pink lips.

“Well, Yvonne, welcome to The Nameless Place!” Hugh announces and ushers me in after he slides the big gate open for us to enter.

I look up, down, left, right, I even turn my head at a clockwise and then at an anti-clockwise direction, looking for a space that showed at least no colour, no design, no splatters of paint or sprays of paint. I find myself in a haven of colours. And there are a lot of people here. Music is playing in the background, making everywhere look more lively.