AUBREY

seven

(Aubrey's POV)

Thirty thousand, two hundred and forty minutes.
Three weeks.
Three weeks since I kissed Cain, and since he kissed me back.

Or maybe, the more accurate story is three weeks of silence. I left various messages any time I could and I was left with no response. Stories whispered all over the school that he'd be involved in another scandal that's taken him out of school, out of the world. No much how many rumours spread like wildfire, damaging and fast, I know that they were all wrong. Like any lone wolf. he needs time to recharge away from people, away from anything irrelevant. Yet, even though I have a great understanding of who he is, why do I feel a slight pinch at the thought of him needing space away from me, also?

"Aubrey, do you have anything to share about the work today? Any more profound thoughts about what makes a piece of literature so great that it's worthy to be studied?"

At the mention of my name, I switch off any external thoughts about Cain, refiltering my thoughts to be solely focused on the task at hand: lessons. Admittedly, I am that one student who passes their classes with ease, finding no struggle with doing menial labour in the form of work. But recently, it seems harder, probing more thought than ever before, requiring attention that I can't spare, because like sand, my attention - grain by grain- is falling towards a pink-eyed criminal.
Internally relieving a deep sigh, I plaster a wide smile on my lips, summoning any thoughts I can. "To be worthy on the canon, the piece of work has to be valuable, challenging any other literature with multiple characteristics. The judgement from other writers within the canon form the basis of challenging any other pieces."

A low murmur circles the class: jealousy spewing from some, recognition from others. A low-pitched whistle emits from the back of the class, gravitating my head to turn back and glare. With the stuck stare on my face, I open my mouth to shut the mystery man up. But he's not a mystery - it's Cain. Twenty one days of not coming to school, and suddenly he turns up, paying attention to what I say, but not paying attention to anything else. I can't tell if the rise inside is because I'm ticked, or because I'm seeing those familiar, beckoning pink eyes. It's definitely the former.

Biding my time until after class ends, I stay remained in my seat, calling out to him as soon as he starts to walk away, crossing my arms over my chest in a hostile manner. He stays by the door, his pink eyes devoid of any emotion and instinctively, my heart tingles as if it knows what's about to happen.
"Pleasant surprise to see you here."

A slow smile spreads across his face, his back fully resting against the door. "You can stop playing formalities with me, angel. Go ahead and rage."

Arrogant jerk. This wasn't my game when I cornered him, this was his whole orchestra from the minute he whistled. I will not give him the satisfaction of letting him see the effect he has on me, I refuse.
Leaning back slightly, playing with my earrings, in what I'm hopefully trying to convey, absentmindedly. "I'm not angry, I just didn't know when you'd be back."

"Neither did I," he breathes, offering no telltale sign of emotion. "Look, I think things got carried away and it has to cool off."

And there it is, the warning my heart had been hammering into me. I know that we weren't anything serious, but it was a kiss nonetheless. It meant something to me.
Giving me more ammunition to not let me show my emotions, I gnaw on my inner cheek, keeping a reserved facade on. "Good with me. I'm not sure I wanted to commit to someone who I don't know, and never will know."

A falter. His wry smile falters for the most short of seconds, fast enough that I doubt my sight. But the wavering smile is too close to mine for me to miss it, and it could've been close to making me choose my heart over my head, but I don't.  "The kiss meant nothing?"