Chapter four

Another Monday, another style of chaos. I watched as the teacher narrated about second world war. History had always been my worst subject, it was the only class I struggled to have a B. Thinking about my grades made me remember Skye Adams. We had History together but I hadn't noticed his presence since the beginning of the class. I looked at my back and found him resting his head on the desk in front of him. His hair laid in a mess on top of his head. He was sleeping. I wondered how the teacher didn't notice this or maybe she noticed and chose to ignore it since he was the school golden boy and no matter his reckless behaviour he manages to come out at the top of the class while the rest of us burn night candles just to hold on to his tail like the losers that we were.

I turned my head to look back at the teacher to see her already in front of me.

"Do you mind telling me what you're looking at and how it relates to what I'm teaching?" she asked. I could smell her garlic breath from where I was seated. I broke out in a cold sweat not knowing what to say. Do i tell her I was watching Skye sleeping and wondering why he wasn't in trouble yet. No, that would just get me in more trouble with her.

"Nothing, ma'am" I said out of respect to get in her good book.

"Ma'am? Do I look that old to you?" I heard laughter from the students already placing their hawk eyes on me.

"No umm...umm I.."

"Detention after school!" She said as she slapped my desk making me jump up in fright. I didn't bother to argue with her. I was only bothered about my sister. Her school closed one hour after mine ends.

I looked at my back wondering if Skye was still dead asleep even with all the commotion. And there he was staring at me with those green eyes. I glared back at him not willing to give him stand back. He smirked and returned back to his sleeping position.

I walked into the cafeteria ready to do some assignments that was due next week. Getting detention has ruined my schedule.

Just as I was about closing my books I felt someone sit down at the sit in front of me. Skye looked down at me, his lip widely spread in a comic smile.

I continued to close my book and put them into my bag, refusing to acknowledge him.

"I guess the perfect student now has a detention letter staining her sheets, how sad" he said in mock pity.

"What do you want Adams?"

"What makes you think I want something from you?"

"Well you're here sitting with the girl you claim to hate while the whole cafeteria is watching our interaction, which is slowly tainting your reputation "

He looked to his back to see everybody looking at us. Some quickly went back to what they were doing pretending like they weren't shoving their nose in our conversation.

"Whatever. Enjoy your detention, nerd"

There classes later, I'm entering the the detention room. My eye brows scrunched in surprise. Mr Cole sat on the desk facing the class as he scribbled something I guessed to be some class lessons. Or maybe lyrics for his next show.

He hadn't noticed I had entered the class until I coughed. He looked at me with a questioning look.

"Um I'm supposed to have detention here"

"Come in. Sign this first" he placed a paper in his desk. I signed it and sat at the chair close to the window in the middle.

It was quiet for the first first 40 mins. I was the only one there. I prayed for the time to go faster but it only seemed to drag it's hands like an old woman with a load on her head.

"You don't look like someone that gets detention daily" I looked up to find him looking at me, his pens held in his hand as he used it to scratch his lower lips. To anyone it was just a normal movement but to me it was something else. It made my stomach turn in a way I couldn't describe. It made me look at his lips in ways I shouldn't. I looked back at his eyes willing to cover the dirty thoughts going through my head with a stoic face that I was already used to putting on. But it seemed like my lack of facial expression didn't work on him. He looked at me like he could read exactly what was going through my head and it seemed he liked the effect he had on me. I saw his lips twitched quite involuntarily as he roamed his eyes all over my face.

"And what do I look like?" I asked with the same tone he had used.

"Like someone who strives to be called 'good girl' and who lives to be praised"

"That's not how I look" I tried to challenge him but I knew deep down those were the exact words I needed to hear. I laid down every night on my pillow sometimes with tear stained face, hoping I'd see my mum kneeling at the foot of my bed saying those exact words ' I'm do proud of you, my baby. You've been such a good girl'.

"I don't mean it that way" he returned his eyes back to his note and I felt my heart thump in disappointment. I knew he meant it the way I had interpreted it. His face said everything.

"Will you come to my next performance?"

I looked at him in masked surprise. Sure, I'll be there since I worked there but I couldn't but wonder why he wanted me to be at his performance.

"Why?"

"Because I'll like for you to be there"

That didn't answer my question but that was enough for me to know he wanted me there and that struck something in me, close to my heart.

"Sure. I work there after all"

"I know" he looked up at me, a hint of a smile on his lip. I felt my cheek heat in embarrassment and I quickly looked down to avoid his gaze.