Cevic

Chapter 3

And as you walk away, baby all that I can say

Is I'm sorry for being me

Yes I'm sorry for being me

 

-Hanson - Being Me-

 

 

Different

 

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

I could hear the ticking of the primitive clock that hung at the back of the classroom, loud and clear no thanks to my enhanced hearing, as I walked forward to the front with Rezia for an introductory session forced by an overly enthusiastic human teacher, Mrs. Holt who smelled like she had poured a bottle of perfume onto her clothes.

  My two hands felt sweaty and disgusting, and I felt butterflies flying in my stomach, but I knew very well that because of the Cevicïan nature, my nervousness was perfectly concealed, and I looked confident, like I wanted to look like.

  It was one of the rare moments that I was glad I could mask on and off emotions.

Nerve-wrecking was the word I wanted to scream out loud.

  If Rezia was nervous, she looked confident too, even as many pairs of curious eyes stared at us.

 “Hi, I’m Regina Jamison.”

 I offered the class a confident smile, trying to ‘act cool’ like how the human boys did.

 “Eric Jamison,” I said tersely.

 Mrs. Holt nodded, her pink lipstick adorned lips pulling into a wide smile. “Well, it’s nice to have you two. Regina…can take a seat next to Patricia, and Eric can sit next to Isha.”

  I scarcely prevented a gasp from fleeing my lips at the mention of the name, and my eyes snapped up to the girl, Isha. Regina took a seat next to a girl with straight black hair curled at the ends, and I went across to sit.

  Isha looked nothing like my sister. She had tanned skin, olive-colored eyes, straight brown hair, and wore a blue sweater.

  She struck out a hand with a nice smile. “Isha Reynolds, pleasure.”

I smiled easily and shook her hand. “Same here.”

 “I’m Mrs. Holt, your Mathematics teacher,” said Mrs. Holt, repeating what she had said twice previously.

  Human memory span couldn’t be that short, could it be?

For the one hour, I listened to the droning of the female human with the pink lipstick, talking of things I have never heard of before. Two tables across me, Rezia was doing a perfectly great job at being Regina, writing down notes furiously and chatting with her partner, like she had done it many times before.

  Class ended, and with a sigh of relief, I got out of my seat, and picked up my bag.

“What’s your next class?” asked Isha, slinging on her bag.

“Um, Lit with Mr. Holden.”

 Her eyes twinkled. “Same here. I’ll walk you there.”

Rezia was already nowhere to be seen, probably with Patricia. I nodded.

“So you’re not from around here, are you? I’ve never seen you around.”