Chelsea's POV

For the first time in days, I make it to school before the warning bell, giving me a sign this is going to be a good week, unlike the roller coaster one I had.

Today has been uneventful which I'm thankful for. The diary is secured in my bag and ready to be returned to its owner the first chance I get him alone. I'm currently seated in the last class before lunch break. My position at the back once again granting me leverage to access all that is going on.

I sit silently, arms in a blue hoodie folded and legs clad in ripped jeans crossed under the desk, the black boots on my feet tapping the left foot of the desk as I wait patiently for the room to get filled with students thus I'm among the first group to get here.

In minutes the rest start to breeze in, soon after the history teacher saunters in. I sit erect and lean downwards to produce the textbook from my backpack while wondering why the educational system is so fucked up. Imagine a science student studying history, a course she'll never need in her line of practice.

Just as the lesson is about to commence, Terry strolls in dressed in a white Adidas tracksuit, coupled with blue Gucci sneakers that correspond with the blue lines on the sides of his cloth.

As I've been doing from the start of the first period, I gape at him, gauging his movements till he lets himself down in the empty seat in front of me. Weird as it may be, I feel at a loss that he doesn't acknowledge my presence no matter how rudely he does it.

I'm so immersed in my analysis of him that I don't notice a girl with pink highlights come towards me until she throws herself in the chair beside me which I forgot has been empty since I got seated.

"Hey," she beams, whirling to face me sharply that the strands whip my face, though not that fierce to leave a bruise but enough to cause a wince. "Ooops, sorry."

"If you are a spirit sent to follow me and show up at unannounced moments you can certainly tell me now, I promise, your secret is safe with me," I say in one breathe, observing her attire of a black print skirt that touches her knees, a sparkly yellow blouse, thick brows, long eyeliner and nude lipgloss.

"If I was, your friend, what's her name, wouldn't have seen me," she replies in a shrug and rests her textbook on the desk. "Also, I would have announced my entry, instead I thought it best not to interrupt your eye fucking session."

"Her name is Uche, and what do you mean by eyefucking?" I interrogate, cocking my head to the side and gawk pointedly at her.

"First off, don't give me that look, you come off as scary," she shivers. "Secondly you were staring at Terry with glassy eyes and a crooked smile on your lips."

"Note, I wasn't--"

"Rose? Chelsea? Shut up," the teacher reprimands cutting my words short.

We obey her, me glaring at Rose and she grinning at me, tongue in cheek. The teacher seeing that we are now quiet continues.
"So today before we go on, I'll be giving out your grades of the last homework today."

Most of us nod, while the others grumble but Miss Jane doesn't give a damn, rather she proceeds with what she said. Mine is handed to me and I'm not surprised I get a BC hence I suck at this class, therefore I get it the lowest of all.

Rose doesn't get a sheet, and when I lend her an inquisitive gaze she whispers "I'm the new kid, so I wasn't present at the time it was given."

"But you are still going to do it right?" I whisper back.

"Who knows," she grins. "I don't want more school work than the one I'm going to get."

I scoff at her lame excuse and face the front where Miss Jane is now positioned after being done with dishing out the grades. I vividly discern Terry's desk is bare of any paper and I frown, wondering if he discarded it immediately he got it or he didn't get it at all.

Deciding not to ponder on it much thus I'm already too involved in the boy's life, I shift my focus to the teacher, appearing attentive, rather my mind is anything but as I zone out.

Half an hour later no one observes my lack of attention, not even Rose who is busy taking down notes, or Miss Jane as she concludes the lesson. Not a minute after she deems us fit to go. The lunch bell rings and so students start to depart.

"I need to use the ladies' room," Rose speaks, calling my vision to her and so I acknowledge her information with a lifted brow causing her to snort as she packs her things. "See you in a bit."

Not waiting for a response, she rises from the chair, slings her brown Mickey Mouse-designed bag over her shoulder, and waves at me. The room is almost empty as I arrange my stuff and stand to detect Terry and me are the only ones left with the teacher.

I seize this as my opportunity to talk to him when the teacher speaks. "Terry Williams, can I have a word?"

"Yes Miss Jane," he grunts and strides to her while I aim to compose myself as a shudder glides down my spine at his gruff voice, one I haven't heard so up close in days.

What the fuck is wrong with me?! I scream internally and match past him as he reaches the teacher and pulls open the door. In my bid to bang it at my exit I hear Miss Jane say.
"You got a D, again."

"As I expected," he answers.

I gradually close the door halfway so I can be allowed a chance to still hear what they are saying.

"You know Terry if you don't pick up your grades you might---

"Not graduate with your mates," Terry finishes off for her. "Yeah I know, I've heard that statement several times."

"And what are you doing about it?" She interrogates.

"Nothing, my parents will probably do something about it for me," he retorts, his tone bitter.

"You shouldn't always rely on your parents to do stuff for you," she advises in a calm voice. One thing I love about Miss Jane is that she's different from our other teachers, she is kind and genuinely cares for her students. At the same time, she takes bullshit from no one. To be honest she's the main reason I haven't dropped the class, yet.

"They don't do most things parents do so this should be their problem, not mine," he says in that cocky badboy way, one I would have brushed off as him simply being an asshole if I hadn't read the words he wrote.

"Look Terry, I don't know what's going on, but what I know is that you are a smart kid, all you need is to put in a little effort," Miss Jane recommends. "You can also get a fellow student to tutor you, I heard it helps."

"You are right Miss J, you don't know what's going on, so mind your business," he grumbles and I hear a paper crunch, followed by footsteps. To be safe, I dash a little distance to my right and produce my phone just in time for the door to be opened.

I appear immersed in the device as I observe him halt for a few seconds his burning gaze on me before he dashes to the left, ambling speedily, his footsteps fading.

Releasing a breath at not getting caught, I shriek when someone grabs my palm. I stop as I recognize the person to be Rose. "How the hell do you pop out of nowhere?"

"It's a gift," she answers like she didn't just nearly drive me into cardiac arrest. "What are you still doing here anyway, I thought you'll be seated in the cafeteria by now."

"Eeeeeerh," I let out at a loss of words as she peeps at me suspiciously. "I was waiting for you, I knew you'll pass on your return from the restroom so I thought to wait. I hope you don't mind?"

"No I don't," she grins and I feel a tiny bit bad for lying to her, though I brush it off as payback for scaring me half to death. Thankfully Uche shows up in the nick of time. "Watsup Uche."

The brown-skinned Nigerian turns and gives me a glimpse that interprets How did she know my name? As her dreadlocks are packed in an onion atop her head, her cleavage being displayed by the zip-up longsleeved black blouse above brown leather pants.

"I told her," I confess, admiring how she kills the look with flat black sandals and a brown Balenciaga bag with a gold dollar sign at the front.

"Okay," she acknowledges. "Hey, Rose."

"Um, can you two excuse me for a minute?" I ask permission, gawking at the direction Terry walked off to. "I'll join you guys in the cafeteria."

"Where are you going? We can accompany you," Uche suggests and I decline by moving my head left and right.

"Let's go," Rose murmurs, crossing her right arm above Uche's shoulder. "She's got some unfinished business to handle."

"What unfinished business?" Uche inquires in a grimace and I bestow Rose a glare that screams shut up.

"I won't take much time I promise," I smile shooing them the other way. "Get me fries, and save me a seat."

Thankfully Rose steers the still inquisitive Uche away before she asks more questions and for the second time today, I exhale in relief, clamping my lids for a moment as I think about the thought that popped into my head the time Terry and Miss Jane were conversing.

I consider it a good way to apologize to him about the hurt I caused him by my rejection and also maybe create a soft landing to inform him about the Diary. My feet carry me down the hallway as I pass one or two students lurking around.

My search for Terry continues as I don't spot him anywhere. Soon I'm at the door that leads to the school stadium where gym classes are carried out. The place is empty except for a lone figure crouched on one of the seats.

Striding on the race track, I go towards him and I'm not shocked to see it's Terry hence I had an inkling it will be him from the white tracksuit and the cigarette in between his lips.

My heart in my throat, I slow my steps and climb to the line of seats he's settled in. I'm mute as I shift to the space beside him, coughing at the smoke when it gets into my lungs.

"What are you doing here?" He interrogates, clenched jaw and piercing blue eyes trained at me. My breath hitches at the sadness I see in this unguarded moment.

"Is it so hard for us to have a civil conversation?" I throw back in a question of mine.

"Yes, because we are both from different worlds, things are meant to be rough with us," He grunts, puffing out smoke from his nose, and somehow I find it fascinating.

"Yeah, about that," I inhale preparing my mind for the words I'm about to say. "I want to be your tutor."

"You want to be my what?" He squeezes his brows, not comprehending what I've said.

"Your tutor," I repeat, waiting to see his reaction. "I'm offering to help you out with school stuffs."

Freshy❤️