If I'm Going To Have A Past... I Prefer It To Be Multiple Choice.

1

As I sat in the classroom of the science course I had to take, I fiddled with my pen while I thought about being able to go home after this.

The professer walked in and got everyone's attention.

"Alright everyone, listen. I know we don't usually do anything 'fun' but today I thought we'd go back in time a little and take a trip back to high school... for 'fun'... And because my computer is jammed and I can't print out your assignments." He then went out into the hallway and wheeled in a cart with a bunch of containers on it "we'll be dysecting some frogs for today. It's the easiest grade you'll get all year."

The professer instructed for everyone to go up and get a container.

"Now you can partner up if you want to, for help or just if you feel like it. Alright, that's it." He went back to sit at his desk.

"Hey" a tall, short haired brunette walked over to my table "is it cool if I sit with you?"

I nodded in response.

"Thanks, I'm Rose, you?"

"I'm Rozalin."

"So have you ever dysected anything?" She asked.

"Yeah, back in high school, it's been a year or two." I shrugged.

"Oh cool, at my school we didn't really- what the hell?" Rose now had her attention on something happening behind me.

"What?" I turned my head slightly to see what caught her eye.

"Oh." I said as I saw what she was looking at.

"Yeah, that's uh Patrick Verona." She sighed "he does things like that, he's really weird." She leaned in closer to me "people say that he's going to become a serial killer... If he isn't already. Have you met him yet?"

"No, I don't think I have, didn't even notice he was in the class. Then again, I don't really pay attention to anyone."

I was a little taken back by what Rose was telling me. It's not that I was shocked by the information, it was the fact that it sounded like pointless gossip; which I thought was left behind in our high school days.

Rose and I continued with small chit-chat until Patrick eventually caught her attention again.

"Oh what's he doing now?" She whispered with worry in her voice.

I looked over to see him lighting a cigarette with a flame on the table, to which his friend took away from him and put it out. He exhaled the smoke and then noticed us staring.

We both turned around, but Rose was a little more paniced than I was. "Shit, he saw us."

"So what?" I asked "what's he gonna do? Everything is fine."

"I don't know" she sighed "I've heard things."

"Heard. Keyword 'heard'." I emphasized "you can't just believe everything you hear by word of mouth, what is this, high school?"

Rose looked a bit offended by my words, but then regained her normal composure. "yeah, I guess you're right."

With out Rose noticing, I looked back again and was met with eyes staring back at me.

I shrugged it off and faced forward again. The guy is probably angry because we kept staring at him and I'm sure he noticed us whispering.

Before I knew it, the professor had dismissed the class and I was now exiting the room. I was making my way through the court yard again when I was stopped by someone stepping in front of me. I looked up at the familiar, yet not so familiar face.

"Hey girlie, you got a staring problem?"

"What?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Couldn't help but notice you and your friend staring and whispering about me." He smirked.

"How do you know we were talking about you?"

"Because your friend sucks at whispering." He chuckled.

"Yeah, well what do you want me to say? Sorry?"

I didn't mean to be rude to the guy but I wasn't in the mood to have a conversation, I just wanted to go home.

"Well actually that'd be quite nice, but I'd like to know a little bit about what you guys were talking about."

"She was just talking to me about random things." I sighed and tried to step around him only for him to cut me off again.

"Like what?" He stepped closer.

"I don't remember, can I go now?"

"Well, I'd prefer it if you stuck around but if you must." He stepped out of my way and stuck his arm out as a gesture of letting me pass.

On the drive home, Patrick made his way into my thoughts. Thinking about our verbal encounter from earlier, I had come to realize that he had an Australian accent. He sounded a lot like the guy who accidentally blew smoke in my face the other day. I had to admit, he sort of intrigued me. Not because of his accent but there was just something about him.