The New Girl

Chapter Eleven

I stomped out of the room in search of Brooklyn, and found him in the basketball court with his new friends, the Twins, at last.

"What are you doing here, nerd?" Garrett said. "Came to play basketball?"

"Do you even know how to play it?" Trevor said.

I ignored them and directly spoke to Brooklyn, who was bouncing the ball.

"Brooklyn, you need to come see our room," I said loudly enough for him to hear me. "Someone broke into it, and has messed up your properties."

Brooklyn passed the ball to Garrett and wheeled around toward the entrance, where I stood, to glare at me. His expression changed, which told me he did fathom what I said.

He strode out of the Basketball Court to our dorm. Perhaps he had imagined the condition of the room when I'd told him someone had messed up his things; he didn't turn astonished at all by what he saw happen to his stuffs. Instead he smirked with a playful expression on his face.

"You want to play games.... Cool..." he said in almost inaudible voice not looking at me.

"Are you talking to me?"

"No."

He took my glasses off my face in his hand, and I stared up at his face wondering what he was doing. There were sparks of fury in his ocean blue eyes. But when he spoke, he didn't sound incensed at all.

"You will not tell anything about what happened here to anyone?"

In feeble voice, I vowed, "Yeah, okay."

"Good."

He handed me back my glasses, careful not to touch my hand with his as though he was afraid of getting any diseases I'd through the connection.  

Then Brooklyn whipped out his phone out of the pocket and dialed one of the furniture shops nearest to the campus ...

I put on the glasses and looked around the room. It came into sharp focus again.

That night I didn't return back to my dorm after dinner. I slept in Arvon's room on the bed of his chubby room partner, who had gone home for a day or two for no particular reasons.

The next morning I woke up with a plan hammering in my head to come out.

"I want to do three major things today," I told Arvon as we walked down the hallway for breakfast.

"Like what?"

"I want to replace my glasses with eye lenses, buy something for Lovina to cheer her up and a tattoo."

"What? You want to ink a tattoo? You aren't even eighteen, man."

"Yeah, I know."

"And who did you get this tattooing idea from?"

"Nobody. I want to ink Lovina's face on my arm."

"What? Are you insane?"

"Think I'm now."

"Don't do that, dude. Liking is one thing, but tattooing her face forever on your arm is a bad idea. She isn't going to be your last love. You might like someone other than her someday, and what will you do then? Cut your arm?"

"I want to show her that I love her."

"She isn't going to fall for you, mate. How many times I've to tell you this."

"I don't care. And, Arvon, you're going out with me. It's time you use your old scooter in the parking lot."

So around ten in the morning Arvon and me strapped the helmet and sat on the scooter, me behind Arvon, and we left the school premises behind.