nemesis (3)

~~~~~

"Oh, before I forget."

Everyone turned mutely to Mr. Belarmy yet again, and I noticed he now held a piece of paper in his hand that wasn't there before. Oh, gods, what now? Another homework?

We held our breaths, bracing ourselves for another bomb to drop. What if he asked for a thesis paper this time?! So help me, I was really going to transfer continents if he kept this up!

Beside me, Marga muttered, "One more homework and I'm clawing his beady eyes out!" You and me both, buddy, I mentally answered, but my attention was in front, not wanting to miss any instruction, regardless.

"I was informed by the admin office this morning that we will be having a new addition to this section starting today. Uh," he referred to the paper in his hand, adjusting his glasses. "His name is Francis Richmond Kinsley, some of you might know him from Section-A, but due to confidential reasons, Mr. Kinsley had requested to be transferred to Section-B—I honestly have no idea what possessed him to do that—and fortunately for him, the board granted his request yesterday. So," he raised his head and addressed the room, which had once again gone completely still, but for a completely different reason. "Shall I let Mr. Kinsley in, class? He's right outside the door, waiting."

Upon hearing that, my classmates especially the lady ones burst into a fit of cheers and squeals and giggles, finally releasing all the pent-up anticipation they've been suppressing since this morning. Well, this was what they've been waiting for, wasn't it? Why they haven't been paying attention in the first place. Why we've been required two fracking essays out of the blue. Because they were excited about seeing this new classmate.

Go guys, be happy and rejoice all you want. I, on the other hand, would be busy scowling here wishing Mr. Belarmy wasn't referring to the same person that was high on my to-kill list, right next to my brother.

But I highly doubt it, since he mentioned 'Francis Richmond Kinsley'...

There was only one blasted creature on this earth with that name.

The same one that put worms in my spaghetti back in 5th grade. The one who'd done a whole lot of other unspeakable things to me after that. THE very same one everyone—but me—in school was in love with.

AKA France-freaking-Kinsley.

Well, shit. I think I might just have to transfer worlds now.

"What do you say, Ms. Delamar?"

I sat up straighter when I heard my name and was surprised when fifteen or so pairs of threatening eyes fixed on me as if to say, Watch what you say or you're dead, Delamar.

"S-sir?"

Mr. Belarmy raised his eyebrows questioningly. "Do you think I should open the door and let Mr. Kinsley in?"

Are you sure you're asking me? Because I'd really rather he rot out there and never let him inside the same room with me and breathe the same air I breathe.

Unfortunately, I was not brave enough to say that.

"Um, yes sir. Of course," I answered after a short pause, and I swear I heard a collective sigh of relief coming from the female population. Um, hello? They didn't really think it was up to me, did they? As if I'd say 'no' and get myself in trouble. Derek over here was obviously messing with me. He must have seen I was the only unhappy one about the news.

Damn sharp, Mr. Belarmy.

After a nod of acknowledgement my way, Derek—I mean, Mr. Belarmy—walked over to the door, turned the knob and pushed it open. We all watched with bated breath as he stuck his head outside and talked to someone (probably him) inaudibly. After a minute, he stepped back in and smiled, the first positive expression he's had to wear the whole day.

"Class, please welcome your new classmate, Francis Kinsley."

The door opened wider and a tall guy with tousled hair, rumpled uniform and an arrogant half-smile walked in, causing the noise level in the room to quadruple. My surroundings suddenly turned into a riot of frenzied fangirls and groupies alike where everyone participated, except the saner boys, and me.

Even Marga was staring star-struck, and I had to slap her arm for being a traitor.

France Kinsley, however, didn't look bothered about it, like he was used to this kind of reception. Like he expected it. He only shook his head a little, turned to Mr. Belarmy to thank him for the warm welcome, then proceeded to surveying the room with the confidence of a prince standing in front of his very energetic subjects.

In my mind, I was doing all sorts of violent things to him. Freaking pretentious priiick! Ugh!

As if he felt me watching him, his eyes, those dark-gold eyes that never failed to give me chills whenever he stared at me, collided with mine.

I couldn't help it. I gulped.

He didn't have to say anything. His diabolical smile said it all.

I'm doomed. I am definitely doomed.

~~~~~