Turns out, Drew and I had the same schedule. Which was a good thing, for me. He still showed no sign of interest, or sign of---anything. It seemed like he was some sort of statue. Magnificent, yet motionless.
I wanted to introduce myself. But I was afraid he might think I was flirting. Plus, I didn’t want to talk to a guy first. I wanted him to make the first move.
But I’ve been waiting for hours. God, when was this guy going to do something? I was growing impatient. I drew hearts again and again until a page on my notebook was full of it. And I was full of HIM.
But then an idea popped through my mind. I’ve seen this in movies before and I hoped it would work. I purposely “accidentally” dropped my pencil on the floor.
I looked at him. He didn’t even move an inch. So, I got my pencil myself and was found confused.
What the hell?, I cursed to myself. Okay, so he wasn’t that much of a gentleman. In fact, he wasn’t a gentleman at all. Which was a really “unmanly” thing.
Maybe he just didn’t notice the pencil fall. But it was impossible, because the sound was loud enough for him to hear. So, I was really turned off.
But then he shook his head, and when he did, his hair got tousled, and he looked hotter than ever. And suddenly, it erased every strain I thought about him, and he was perfect again.
“Hello.” Someone behind me said. I turned around to see who it was. It was a girl, two really beautiful girls. I wasn’t sure if they said “hello” in unison, or if one of them said it.
“Hi.” I said, shyly.
“I’m Sarah Greene.” The curly-hared girl said.
“And I’m Blaire Burke.” The straight-black haired girl said.
“And you are?” Sarah asked.
“Aera Kessler.” I replied.
“We noticed you were alone, so we introduced ourselves.” Blaire said.
“Thanks.” I smiled.
We talked about stuff. We went from clothes to make-up to guys.
“So, who do you have a crush on?” Blaire asked Sarah.
“Look, I’m a freakin’ guy, can’t you tell?” She said, gesturing guy moves.
“Yeah, yeah.” Blaire said.
“Well, who’s yours then?” Sarah asked.
“I have a crush on James Tyley.” She said, without even hesitating.
“Oh my God, that hot guy from the other class?” Sarah asked.
“Yeah.” She replied.
“Aera, who’s yours?”
“Oh, well, no one actually.” I said.
Oh c’mon, we all know that’s not true.” Sarah said.
I had to think fast. If they knew it was Drew, I wouldn’t take any chances. So I thought of someone else, someone who didn’t know nor care about me.
“Uh, Rupert Simmons.” I lied.
“Oh my God, you have a crush on Rupert Simmons. Oh my God!” Blaire said.
“Okay, so just keep it low-key, ‘kay?” I said.
“Sure thing.” Sarah said.
“Thanks.” I said. I was totally relieved. They weren’t the type of girls that revealed your secret. They were more of trustworthy.
Out of nowhere, the History teacher arrived with a pile of books and a map. He was a fine-looking mid-20’s guy who looked really witty.
“Good morning class. My name is Mark Laurence Clooney. I am your History teacher. So, like what you did in English, I would ask you to stand up and state you name, age, address, and crush... No, I’m just kidding. Okay, so lets’ start with you---there.” He said, smiling as he did.
“My name is Jee-Ann Montanez. I used to live in Mexico but now I live in Dark world Village. I’m 15 years old.” She said, with a miserable voice and face.
“Are you okay?” Mr. Mark asked.
“Yes, sir.” She said, but she sounded like she was gong to break down or something.
“Oh, okay, next please.” He said.
There were still a lot of people before me, so I thought. I thought about what I sad earlier, about Rupert.
Rupert was a junior. He was Chinese, well at least I think so, but I was pretty sure he had a Chinese blood. He had an ivory complexion, an almost-perfect face, for me that is. And a somehow childlike voice for a boy.
I knew his brother, RJ. He was my classmate in Grade School. But unfortunately, he didn’t study here. I was surprised when I first saw Rupert. They looked like absolute twins, only RJ wore glasses.
Now, back to reality. Mr. Mark was discussing about grading systems and stuff. Again, I wasn’t listening. Then, I looked at Drew again. He was so hot taking down notes like that. Like a, with the lack of words, a professional, more like, Patrick Dempsey’s character I Grey’s Anatomy.
His face was composed, cool. It was like he had no emotions at all. And so far, he hasn’t shown any yet. Oh my God, he was an emotionless freak. But I couldn’t imagine him as a freak. Just emotionless. An emotionless person.
Only. I didn’t know anyone without an emotion. Even I, a carefree person, would have at least one. So why didn’t he? Was he always like this?
“Yes, Ms. Kessler.” My stupid thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Sir Mark.
“Um.” I read the question on the board. Number 4, I knew, fortunately, because I took a peek at Drew’s notes, which was written in a not so delicate handwriting.
“Please read the question.” The teacher asked.
“Oh, right. If you were an English female author back in the old days, would you have used a pseudonym?” I read.
“Well?” He said.
“Um, as we all know, I guess, uh, female authors back in the old days weren’t accepted. And so if they published, or wanted to publish a book, they used nicknames or names of guys. But if I were born in the old days and I wanted to publish a book, I wouldn’t use a pseudonym because I wouldn’t be credited for my work if I were to pretend to be someone I’m not and people especially women can’t hide forever , so if I use a nickname, then that wouldn’t change anything. So, yeah.” I said.
“Well, that was a very good perspective, what’s your name again?” He asked.
“Aera, um, sir.” I hesitated.
“Yeah, Aera, very good.” He complimented.
I smiled a somehow apologetic smile at him and sat down. I was impressed with myself. I didn’t really expect that answer to pop in my head at that certain predicament. Well, it was really a predicament because my reputation depended on it.
And by reputation, I mean, if I didn’t answer that question nor knew the question, then that would mean that I was just a stupid dumbass. And I wouldn’t want to give them the impression that I was just a complete dumbass.
The teacher went on his lecture about blah-blah-blah. I didn’t really care. It wasn’t like I was going to die if I didn’t listen. But I would surely die if I never got to know him. And by him, specifically I mean Drew.
“Okay, I think that’s all for today. Goodbye and thank you.” He said.
“Goodbye and thank you, Sir Mark.” The class said in unison.
He carried his books, and then signed the monitoring sheet, which was with a curly haired girl. Then, he left the room.
I watched him as he went on. Then I looked at the other him. Drew. Drew Allen. Then I looked away. But from my peripheral vision, I swear I could see him look at me for a split second then look the other way.
I observed him. Everything he did every move that he made. I noticed that he was always tugging and playing with his handkerchief. It was like his imaginary best friend or something.
Then I noticed that he had a divided chin. As many people would say, people with divided chins wee beautiful/handsome. Which proved much more that he was THTH, which meant “too hot to handle”, which also in simpler terms, he was really a looker.
Then I noticed his hair. It was really straight. And undeniably shiny. It shone, somehow a little, in the sun. And whatever style he made it, either symmetric or tousled, made him look really hot.
“Earth to Aera, Aera to Earth.” I was disturbed by Sarah and Blaire.
“Oh.” I said.
“Um, question, why were you staring at Drew?” Blaire asked.
“What about it?” I replied.
“The way you looked at him, it was totally weird. It was like. No…not unless…” Sarah fought with herself.
I hesitated. What if they would know? It’s not that I didn’t trust them or anything; I just didn’t want anyone to know. But what if they did? Could I really trust them?
