That time I got rejected three times on the same day!

Chapter 10

'Class 7-B and 8-B to carry desks and chairs from the storage shed to the gymnasium for central examinations. First period.' it read. So that was why the classroom was empty. I left that sticky note where it was, but all the others I gathered up and threw away. Mr.Devlin's desk was now clean and orderly. Papers were filed away; books were in their proper shelves, and stationary either in his desk or in the pen holder his wife gave him last year. He would probably throw a fit about all his sticky notes, but this was not the first time I had cleaned his desk. He never discovered the culprit the previous times, and I wasn't about to get caught. The only thing left for me to do was to sneak into the work parties carrying the desks and chairs between the storage shed and the gymnasium. If Mr.Devlin asked me where I was, I would just tell him I had gone to the toilet. I left my schoolbag and raincoat and headed for the door. The classroom had two doors, one leading to the teacher's desk and the other at the back of class. It made little sense to have two doors, but the back door was useful for sneaking in. I headed for the teacher's door and reached for the handle when the door opened.

My heart jumped and the pain returned. The unbelievable had happened. I was standing face to face with Neris. Clutching my heart I backed away almost stumbling over a desk.

"Are you okay?" she said.

This was the first time she had spoken to me. I nodded vigorously. She started forward to help me, but I held my hand up. I had to say something.

"I-I-I'm o-okay."

Calm down. I closed my eyes for an instant clearing my head.

"You just surprised me."

She smiled. I could have melted into the floor right at that moment. I had seen her smile before, but not at me. It was the happiest day of my life. I just wanted to make this moment last forever. She looked into the classroom with curiosity.

"Our classes are moving chairs and desks. Mr.Devlin sent me to get his keys. Do you know where they are?"

I nodded.

"I'll show you." I said. "Follow me."

Mr.Devlin always kept his keys in the second drawer of his desk. I was sweating and my skin was hot. I wanted to take off my jumper. I showed her the drawer and she bent down to open it.

"It's locked," she said and stood up. "I guess I'll just have to walk back and tell him."

I didn't want her to leave. I wanted to spend some time with her, talk to her, and get to know her. I looked at the locked drawer and had an idea.

"Wait."

She looked at me questioningly. I grabbed a paper clip from the desk and took out one of my hairclips. I had grown my hair long for the past six months and I hated having hair in my face. I used to wear a bandana, but the teachers had refused to let me wear it in class, so my only other choice was to use hairclips. I knelt in front of the drawer. Neris was looking over my shoulder, she was close enough for me to hear her breath.

"I'll open it for you," I said.

I had picked up my hairclips at a sale because they had looked like a tension wrench. Lock picking was another skill I had taught myself which had come in handy for opening the house when I didn't have any keys. The locks on the drawers were a cheap design and a paperclip would suffice. I had my own lock picking set at home, but I never carried it around. My parents didn't know about it and would not be impressed if I got caught with it out in public. I opened up the paper clip and inserted it into the keyhole. With my other hand I put the corner of the hairclip into the bottom of the keyhole and applied pressure. The lock didn't want to give immediately, but I wiggled the paper clip around a little until I felt a slight click. Applying more pressure on the hairclip I opened the lock. I pulled open the drawer, and the keys were lying atop another pile of papers.

"How did you do that?" she asked with genuine interest in her voice.

"I taught myself," I replied.

I handed her the keys. She smiled again and pulled her hair back, pinning it behind her ear. I had read another book on body language and recognised the 'tell'. Now was my chance. We were alone, I had just impressed her, and I had a feeling she liked me. I had to confess to her now. It was now or never. Now or never. Now or never. Now.

"Nerissa," I said.

Her expression changed. It was subtle; surprise.

"How do you know my name?" she said.

"I've been watching you since the beginning of the year."

Her brow furrowed a little. I started to panic. I was messing it up.

I had to salvage the situation somehow. All my books and all my knowledge had not prepared me for this moment. What did you say in a confession to a girl? My mind was drawing blanks. I tried to remember movies, books, TV shows, where the guy had confessed to the girl. It was no good. The pause had been too long. She was now looking at me, staring at me. Say something, anything!

"I love you! Please go out with me!" I blurted out.

The weight on my shoulders had lifted. I had done it, for better or worse. I couldn't read her expression. If I was to describe it I would have said it was neutral or passive. It was the worst outcome, even amusement or laughter would have been better than this. I could hear the clock ticking. It felt like minutes before she answered.

"I'm sorry," she said.

My heart sank, or fell. It felt like I was in one of those modern elevators that went too fast, falling from the 30th floor. My feelings must have reflected on my face, because she continued speaking.

"You don't even know who I am and you say you love me?"

I wanted to say something, but the words wouldn't come. I wanted to tell her how I felt, how my heart ached, how she made me feel, how beautiful she was, but it wouldn't come.

"I'm really sorry," she said again. "We can be friends and get to know each other a little better. How about that?"

Her consoling smile was not helping at all. I screwed up the delivery. I had done everything right to the lead up, but I should have done more research, more planning. I forced a smile.

"I'd like that."

In truth I was devastated, destroyed, annihilated. I hated myself. She had done nothing wrong. It was my entire fault. How could I have messed up so badly?