And Then There Was Vince

Chapter 10: I'm Only In It For The Cheesecake

Mr. Bartlett approved of our draft that day, saying he liked how we didn't shoehorn romance into it. The students approved of Alex's draft of our situation, and for the rest of the day I heard murmurs from "chaste" girls, catcalls from excited boys, or stumbled upon concerned glances about it. The longer I experienced it, the more it wore me down.

    The numbness only lasted until something even more intense than the first feeling came to swipe it away.

    I sat alone at lunch that day, not minding the self-imposed segregation. I wanted to be alone until I was certain the people around me weren't just throwing an inclusive pity party in my name. I took the spare time to rip my brain apart over trig. No matter how many times I referenced the material, I couldn't make heads or tails of it. I wrote and erased. Wrote and erased. Over and over again.

    I grew so frustrated over the task at hand that I didn't realize I was crying until I attempted to turn a soggy page.

    "Shit," I said, wiping it off to the best of my abilities and then mimicking the action on my cheeks.

    It didn't matter what I was specifically crying over, I knew that the monsters around me were feeding off of it either way.

    I didn't speak to anyone in or between classes, and when I finally made it back to the lunchroom for study hall, I put my head down to rest. I didn't care if I'd get scolded for "sleeping". I just didn't feel like doing anything else.

    The gentle tap on my shoulder startled me.

    "Hey," Vincent said when I sat up, rubbing at my irritated eyes. "Mind if I sit here again?"

    I saw a group of Ashley's wannabees staring at us, giggling as if they'd just seen a nipple.

    "No, go ahead," I said, moving my stuff off of the chair beside me and motioning for him to sit.

    He remained silent for a few moments, pulling out various sheets of random homework that he'd glance at only for seconds before moving on to the next. I was transfixed, watching him doing nothing as he pretended to do something.

    "Listen," He finally said after sharply inhaling, "I don't care what they're saying about us."

    "Me neither," I replied, flatly. To be honest, all I cared about was whether or not Ashley truly believed Alex, or if she was just having a good time dragging me through the dirt. "That all?"
    He stared at me for a second, and I couldn't quite read his face.

    "That's all," He said, writing something down on one of his papers.

    We sat there quietly for at least fifteen minutes, him pretending to scratch at his work, and me just sitting there watching him.

    "Hey," I began, breaking the silence.

    He looked up at me with a pair of the biggest brown eyes I'd never noticed before.

    "Yeah?" They asked.

    "You any good at Trig?" I asked, slapping the book and leftover work packet down on the table. "I have to turn this in when Mrs. Walters is back, and I fucking suck at it."

    He smirked at me.

    "I've been told I'm not the worst at the subject," He said, grabbing hold of the papers. "What part are you struggling with?"

    "The whole damn thing," I said, my voice cracking with some sort of frustrated emotion.

    He glanced at me quickly and I hastily looked away before I cried in his presence again.

    "You're not kidding," He laughed, noting all of my eraser marks.

    I didn't return his chuckle, and he toned it down to match my mood.

    "I'll help you with it," He offered, ripping scratch paper out of a notebook. "Let's get started."

    He spent the last twenty minutes of study hall explaining sin, cosin, tangent, and all the wonders of triangles to me. I understood, in mathematical terms, approximately two percent of what he had been saying. When the bell rang, I was stuck looking at my still untouched paper despondently, realizing I'd be taking a zero on what was probably at least a thirty point work.

    "I'm not trying to be weird or anything," He said, gathering up his own belongings. "But my mom brought home this cheesecake last night that tastes really good. If you want, you can come over and have some of it, and then we can try and finish your packet."

    I perked up at his offer.

    "Why would that be weird?" I asked, gathering my own things and stowing them away.

    "Well, you know," He stammered. "With all that's going on, maybe that's like, i don't know, salting a wound..."

    "I told you I don't care already," I assured him as he trailed off. "I do care about trig, though."

    I finished zipping my bag and he stood there looking at me, making no motions toward the door.

    "Is that a yes then?" He asked, raising one of his eyebrows.

    "Yes," I accepted. "And I'll tell my mom I'm late because of trig, not because of cheesecake."

    He smirked at me as I led the way into the hall, towards hope for my GPA, a thick slice of cheesecake, and much higher spirits.