out of the blue / n.h

Chapter 4

MELANIE RICHARDS

After history, I prepare myself to english. Which where I should hand my unfinished homework to Mr. Dane.

"Hey," Miles reaches out to me as I walk to my class.

"Miles, hey, what's up?" I smile awkwardly without stopping at my tracks. It's really weird for Miles to talk to me. He bailed on me as soon as Nathan broke up with me last summer. Whoa, time flew so fast.

"English, huh?" He asks.

"Yeah, why?"

"Nothing, I was just going to the gym also. Maybe I should walk you to class?" He asks pointing his thumb down the hallway.

"Sure." I nod.

"Are you going to the game after school?"

"Nope." I pop the P and shake my head.

"How come?"

"I don't know. I don't really have time for that." I say without looking at him. Without smiling either.

"Oh. Do you have time to hang out or hitting on someone, or-you know?" He teasingly chuckles.

"I don't know either." I stop right after my class.

"Do you have plans tomorrow night?" He stops at his pace too. Looking right into my eyes. It has been a long time not talking to him.

"Tomorrow's school night, Miles. Ofcourse I have plans," I chuckle.

"Right. What about Friday night?" He jumps a little.

"Friday night it is." I nod.

"Okay, I'll pick you up then." He winks.

"Cool. Okay," I smile then head myself right to the class. I exhale. I pretended nothing was wrong for over 2 years we'd spent time together. We were really close, just then he started to be a dick. He moved into different path. Then I started to hang out with Jamie. He was the new kid from Strongsville. Then I hung out with Jane, she is somehow the rope that lifted my extinction.

NIALL HORAN

"Mr. Horan!" Fucking Q.

"Yes, Professor Q." I answer with my sarcastic smile.

"Your homework will be due by tomorrow. Do it now, or else," He points his head out. With his face that says You're a deadman, alright.

I shrug then walk out of the building then head myself to the public library. It's almost 3 p.m and I haven't eaten all day long. This homework needs to be done. Professor Q is depending on my work. I'm one of the honoured students in the class.

I drive to the library and start my research. I sit on one of the big, long wooden tables. A feet away from me, a girl with dark brown hair--almost black I think--and earbuds in her ears. Jamming her head up and down in a little pace, writing. She doesn't seem to acknowledge me looking at her. Her music must be so loud that I can hear it from here.

I somehow figure the song is really familiar to me.

And if a double-decker bus

Crashes in to us

To die by your side

Is such a heavenly way to die

Morrissey. I smile then shake my head. I chuckle, still is looking at her. Her face isn't that familiar also. It's like I've seen her just a while ago. Like, today or probably an hour ago. Or maybe she looks like someone that I haven't seen in ages. . .

I keep focusing on her face. She bites her upper lip then she sings through the beat. I follow her lips language singing There Is A Light That Never Goes Out.

"Well the pleasure, the privilege is mine." I sing, not noticing that I sing pretty obvious. She scrunches her nose then shifts her eyes from the paper, to me. I quickly look away. I know her.

She was the girl from school that gazed at me for almost 10 minutes.

I quickly busy myself with the book I picked from the shelf. I can see from the tail of my eyes that she continues writing and that she turns the volume down. But she looks like someone I used to spend time with, someone that is a part of my life once. Whatever, maybe I'm just hazing around.

Pretty odd for pretty girls like her in a library, listening to the Smiths. Girls don't even know what the Smiths is. They don't even go to library to study, they surf the internet.

Her face is kind of strange. I think she's a native american or some shit. She looks like an Indian. Maybe she has a little Arabic in it? No. She doesn't look like it. She looks like Mexican. Maybe, she's Mexican. Or Latino? No. Or maybe she's Asian.

She's pretty, and kind of seductive. The perfect golden tan skin she has probably one of the advantages guys adore.

"Can I help you?" She takes off her earplugs. She notices I've been looking at her with an opened book in my hand.

"Uhm, nothing." I look away to the book in front of me. But it feels like reading chinese letters. I can't seem to focus. I look up to her, again. She looks at me, lifting her brow.

"You listen to the Smiths." I nod, blinking rapidly. Trying to ease the awkward tension. 

"Sorry to bother you," She smiles wryly. She looks like every movies' antagonists. Like, when she casts for a movie, the director would be giving her a round of applause that he finally found the bad character.

"No, it's okay. I love the Smiths."

"Okay. . ." She nods.

"It's just odd that you're listening to them."

"You have a problem with that?" She chuckles. 

"No. It seems weird."

"I couldn't be surprised more." She says without looking at me.

"Yeah, it feels like they're dead. No one mentions them anymore."

"I know, right? I feel like I want to travel back in time. Don't get me wrong, I love new age songs." She chuckles.

"What a generation." I say.

She nods without responding to my remark. I wait for a little while for her to talk. Not even a word spits out of her lips. I hold the urge to ask if I've seen her from a long time ago. Probably an old relative? God, no.

"Do you mind to share that earplug?" I point to the black wires.

"I'm trying to study," She says. "sorry."

I nod slowly.

"'S okay." I chuckle. This conversation leads my mood to the off button. Jesus. Is she ignoring me? Most girls would probably asking for my number by now. Hah. Maybe not all of them.

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author's note:

ooouuu is melanie used to be a part of niall's life?!:o

dont forget to comment and vote :)

-a