QUOTE OF THE CHAPTER:

"The first thing I learned at school was that some people are idiots; the second thing I learned was that some are even worse."

― Orhan Pamuk, Istanbul: Memories and the City

Dedication: @Red_Velvet_Yum (for her immense support and amazing comments starting from the beginning.)

Banner: shewasamystery

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CHAPTER TEN

Next day, I wake up feeling better - not like sun is shining, birds are singing type but better. The sun isn't shining because my curtains are always closed at nights because I hate it when sunlight brushes my face and wakes me up at an earlier hour than I intend to wake. Since I live in the city, it's not birds that are singing but cars' horns. To sum it up, I'm slightly better.

My eyes half open, I make my way off to bathroom and wash my face. I feel a bit sober but my body resists not to sleep back. That's why I quickly make my bed because otherwise, I'll be haunted by its charm. Then, I can't help but eye my room, remembering what Calvin has said yesterday. I think myself that it isn't that messy. Just a pile of clothes on the ground at the edge of my table, and books and my laptop on it with a glass of water (I've half-drunk two days ago.) I go and open my wardrobe and notice that most of my t-shirts are thrown inside, (who will make an effort to put them neatly? Not me.) I've seen worse - my room isn't messy. It's an average teenage room. It's Calvin who is absurdly neat.

I sigh, taking one of the t-shirts and a pair of jeans from there and shutting it with my foot. In turn, I put them on, forming my hair into a ponytail and grabbing my bag from the ground. Then, I'm descending the stairs in a hurry because I'm like two minutes late for school. I espy Mum sitting at the kitchen alone, drinking her tea in an absolute silence and I wonder why she's at home in this hour. When she notices me, standing, I curse myself for not behaving faster and getting out, but she's there, her lips quirking up for a smile, and she stands up and walks over at me. Soon enough, we are face to face and she murmurs a quiet good morning. We haven't talked after yesterday's speech because I avoided her at all costs when I returned home. I was actually dying to ask what she said to Calvin, if she said anything whatsoever but I held myself. I didn't want to learn.

"Morning," I say back, flatly, and then pull the door open. "I'm running late for school."

"You haven't made breakfast," she murmurs with a worried tone.

"I never do," I snap, wearing my sneakers.

"Okay." I glance up at her suspiciously. She accepted it so quickly again. Her eyes are on me, too, expectantly but I shrug and go down the porch.

She yells after me. "When will you come back?"

Not spinning back, I reply: "I dunno." A question comes to my mind at that moment: Will she be waiting for me?

Because of this useless conversation, I'm ten minutes late. I decide not to attend the first class anyway, it will make no difference. In fifteen minutes, I'm at school, sitting at canteen and drinking coffee. Surprisingly, I take out my literature book and check today's lecture so that I will know something if the teacher asks. I try to read and understand but the latter doesn't really work out. I don't like literature - from this, most would think I'm a science person but it's totally wrong because I hate science more than I hate literature. I think I'm not a school person, that's all.

I sigh, turning the pages and at least keeping some useful words in mind. We are learning literary movements and right now, we're at Romanticism. I find their attemps totally pathetic, that their works are totally based on feelings, mostly love. I think I'm closer to Realism in that case, since it's based on reality as it is. Romantics created a world for themselves that they could be happy - and their characters were either completely good or bad. Who can be utterly good or bad, anyway?

Considering my current thoughts, I smile at myself because if I ever said them aloud, no one would believe how intellectual I might be. I don't believe it either - so I shut the book quickly, placing it at my bag again, and sipping from my coffee.

Meanwhile, someone sits next to me and I turn my head to find Richard grinning widely at me. I roll my eyes, "What's up, Butler?"

"Ceiling." I snort at his lame joke. "Sorry," he snickers, "I couldn't help it."

"Why aren't you in class?" I ask instead. "Or better, why are you here?"

"Oh, asking so many questions, aren't you," he says, smiling and when I throw a cut-the-joke glance at him, he answers, "I missed it basically." After a pause, he asks, "And you?"

"Same."

"Aren't we the same?" He says, slumping in his chair.

"Not really," I reply. "I was looking through today's literature lecture but I think you don't know a shit about it."

"Wow, you are studying for a lecture, my ears must be deceiving me."

"Not really, babe," I say triumphantly.

"So, I should sit next to you, then, just in case."

"Who said I will help you?" I snap, drinking the rest of my now-cold coffee.

"I'm your babe, so you will."

"Ha ha." Then, we look at each other, as if the same thought has crossed our minds. But I speak first, "so have you sorted it out with Megan?"

He shrugs, "No." I frown. They always break up but then, get together. "She insists but I think I'm done."

"Surprising," I murmur, looking down. "Already interested in another chick, huh?"

"You could say that," he nods.

"Who is she?" I ask in interest.

"You'll see," he says with a smirk. "I'll not wait long to make it official."

"So, it's a mutual thing?"

He nods smugly. "I think so."

"Great, then," I say, ignoring his annoyingly smug face. "I think, in this world, the only girl you cannot seduce is me," I add confidently, turning my body at him, crossing my legs.

He laughs, "I'm not trying to seduce you, Pierce, not yet." He winks.

"I'd love to see you try, Ric," I dare him.

Ignoring my daring challenge, he stands up, glancing down at me. "See you at class, then," he says.

"I hope not," I snap, rolling my eyes.

He laughs, walking out of canteen, his hands stuffed in his pockets. I let out a sigh, forcing myself up from the chair since the canteen starts to be more crowded than before due to break time, and I walk out, through my locker.

When I reach there, my phone vibrates and without no doubt, I check it knowing it's no one else but Calvin.

Where are you?

Rolling my eyes, I type back. Thinking about what my first lecture was, it registers that it was our mutual class.

Heading to class.

Staring down at my phone, waiting for a reply, I'm leant against my locker. I startle when someone whispers to my ear. "Are you better?"

I look at Calvin in horror. "You scared me."

He snickers, "it's kind of an honour that I can scare you." Then, he clears his throat, repeating the question, his lips pressed in a thin line. "Are you better?"

I shrug, "Yeah."

"Fine." He smiles. Then, for minutes, we pause and stare at each other. The situation makes me uncomfortable because it is so cheesy.

"Uhm," I say, not knowing what to say to break the silence, "So, what's your lesson?"

He thinks for a short while. "Biology."

"Ew."

He looks at me. "You can't be serious, biology is amazing."

I grimace. "I knew that you have no taste."

"You insult me," he replies with a feigning pout, "I have a wonderful taste," he adds, looking at me intently. He's not meaning it - is he?

I groan at him, putting my hands on his chest and pushing him to make myself a way to pass, "You fucking prick, get away from my way."

He laughs loudly, "You didn't deny it," he says in a singing tone.

I show him a middle finger while passing by. He deserves it though.

Later, I'm sat at the back of literature class, pretending to listen to the teacher but actually playing an addictive game on my phone. It's much better than trying to focus on a lecture I'm probably going to forget within next three hours. It's totally a waste and I know how to use my time wisely.

Minutes later, I'm so caught up with the game - the level I couldn't pass yet because it turns so fast that I can't catch up with the balls, I let out a cuss, and someone laughs softly next to me. Wait, I didn't realise someone was sitting beside me. I immediately snap my head at the direction, encountering with Richard staring down at the screen. "I'm ahead of you," he says, with a despising tone, yet mixed with tease.

I stare daggers at him, shutting the phone and putting it on the desk.

He snickers lightly, "You are so easy to tease."

"Is this your new trick?" I spit. "You know, to seduce girls. Don't they get disappointed when they learn -"

"You know, it's not true. Wanna see it, Pierce?" He cuts me off with a smirk.

"No, thank you very much," I huff. "I'd rather die."

"Mr. Butler and Ms. Pierce, is everything okay?"

We both look at the teacher, staring at us suspiciously. "Yeah," we reply in a sync.

"He asked me about something he didn't understand." I quickly add.

"You could've asked me, too," the teacher replies, "Did you get the answer, Mr. Butler?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then, please be quiet." Then, he turns back at the board and continues writing the movements.

Richard turns at me, annoyed, "Why am I the one who doesn't understand?"

"Because I am not, babe."

He rolls his eyes, then glares at me. Within seconds, we burst into laughter. Which causes the teacher's attention on us again. Before he kicks us out, we stand up and walk up at the door, leaving the class. I keep laughing, "Oh, I hate literature."

"I hate school."

"Ditto."

He stops and glances at me. "Are you in for a ride?"

"To where?"

"Ice cream?"

With a enthusiastic smile, I reply: "Lead on."

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