Me and my dad went to go fishing over the weekend. Afterwards, Amalia spent the night at my house and talked about her first date with David. Now, I'm running late to calculus.
I finally get to class and see that my usual seat near the front is taken by a slim blond guy. I slowly walk towards the back and see only one seat available.
The one next to Dean.
Did I mention how good he looks?
I sigh internally and take a seat next to him, not facing him once. The teacher starts the lesson, so I take out my notebook and calculator. I frantically look for a pencil through all my bags, hoping I'm not making too much noise.
Shit, I can't find a pencil!
I start to ask the person in front of me and the person to my left for a pencil or a pen. Both say a discreet 'sorry don't have one' and go back to working. Are you serious!?
I look to my right and see Dean in all his glory. I need a pencil ASAP, and he's the only one I haven't asked.
I don't want to ask himmmmmmmm.
But fuck, I have to!
"Dean," I whisper at him.
He doesn't turn at all, as if he never heard me. I know he can hear me.
"DEAN!" I whisper a bit louder. Damn his side profile is beautiful.
FOCUS SKY......
"Dean could I borrow a pencil? Or a pen? I don't have one."
"No," he whispers back, not looking towards my direction.
I bite the inside of my cheek. "You have a pencil case right in front of you Dean. Be a decent human being and lend me one."
He finally turns his attention towards me, his eyes looking straight at mine, making my stomach do a weird flip.
"You think I'm an idiot don't you? I know you've been avoiding me, new girl. Moving towards the front of the class, or eating somewhere else other than the cafeteria makes it a little too obvious."
I'm taken back. How did he notice all this? I thought he wouldn't care. And why did it sound like it actually affected him? I'm probably just being over dramatic.
"Don't get too cocky," I whisper back. "I'm not only avoiding you, but all your friends as well. Do you think I want to get involved with all of your Teen Wolf drama? All your friends are disrespectful and rude. And for some reason I'm one of their targets." I catch my breath. "I don't understand why you hang out with them."
Before Dean could respond to anything, I raise my hand and ask the teacher if I could go to my locker. I'll probably find a pencil there. I could ask the teacher for one, but she would probably make a big deal out of it. I stand up and walk out of the classroom, not looking back at Dean.
I was getting a little overwhelmed when I was talking to him. I had to get out of there. I go down the stairs and finally get to my locker.
I look through Amalia's books and the extra hoodie she keeps in there just in case it gets cold. I finally find a mechanical pencil. I close my locker and sigh. Should I skip class? I can tell the teacher I was constipated or that I'm on my period.
I'll just take the long way to class.
I start walking towards the other set of stairs located at the end of the long hallway. I pass a couple of classrooms, all filled with either very intelligent or very uninterested students. I also pass by another restroom, and notice a student walking out of the mens restroom. He has dark eyes that match his hair color, he's a couple inches taller than me as well. But what catches my attention are his arms, they look all bruised up and red. Just by his face expression, I can tell he's in pain and is trying his best to hold it in.
He might be in my economics class.
Mind your own business Sky. Don't ask don't ask don't ask.
Fuck, I'm nosy.
I walk towards the student and tap on his shoulder. He flinches at my touch, which makes me take a step away from him.
"Sorry," I say right away, feeling bad. Is he traumatized? He turns around to face me, worry written all over his face. He gives me a confused look, but gives me a slight smile, his eyes relaxing a bit.
"Hey what can I do for you?" He asks with a light tone.
I smile back at him. Shit shot I didn't think of what I would tell him!
"I think we have a class together, economics class if I'm correct. My name is Sky nice to meet you." I extend my hand out towards him.
"Nice to meet you, my name is Ben." He extends his hand out as well and shakes mine.
I look down and get a closer look at his arms. He has at least seven to ten bruises combined, some are new while others have been healing for days. He notices me staring and pulls his arms away quickly.
"I know it's not my place to ask, but what happened to your arms?" I ask, looking at him in the eyes.
"Basketball practice, I don't wanna get hit in the face so I use my arms as a shield." He starts to shift his feet, making it seem like he's uncomfortable. I don't want to nag him any further.
"Ah I see. We'll be careful then. Catch you later!" I smile at him and start to walk away. To be almost hit by a basketball in the face over ten times sounds ridiculous. I hate having a good heart and wanting to help people the best I can.
It brings me trouble.
I walk back to class and see that the teacher is now sitting on her desk and the class is working on an assignment. She doesn't notice me walking in so I quickly sit on my desk.
I start working on my math work as fast as I can. Five questions in and I can't help but think about Ben and his bruises. What really caused them? Did he get into a fight? Did his parents hit him? Maybe he's actually telling the truth and I'm just overthinking.
I feel something light hit the side of my head and see a paper rolled up into a ball hit my desk. I turn towards my right and see Dean staring at me. No expression across his face.
"You took a while to come back. Did you go and take a shit?" He says, his chin resting on his hand.
I rope my eyes at him. "No I didn't poop, for your information. I went to go get a pencil from my locker."
Dean is the basketball team, no? He might know about Ben.
"Hey Dean, is there a player called Ben in the basketball team?" I ask.
"Ben? Yea he joined the team this year. He's a junior," he answers, slightly tilting his head at me.
"Does he get hit a lot with the basketball, like on his arms?" I ask impatiently.
Dean scrunches his eyebrows together. "You're asking weird questions, new girl. What's your business with Ben? And who the hell gets hit with a basket ball in the arms?"
Shit shit shit. I probably sound like a weirdo.
I sigh. I guess Dean doesn't know about Ben's bruises yet. I wonder if the school has seen them and questioned him about it.
"Just forget I asked Dean," I respond, looking back at my work.
I guess I'll figure it out by myself. The less amount of people that know the better.
