'They Already Did'...(Charlotte)

I pretend to look for something in my locker- trying to catch a glimpse of the unknown watcher. It's hard to tell who it is exactly. Too many kids, walking and talking to be sure.

What should I do? What if no one's following me?

Maybe I'm just paranoid. Maybe I'm just imagining things. But then again, how can someone imagine this vividly?

I shake my head and draw in a long breath. Whoever is following me must have a reason why, right? Now, what kind of mess have I created for someone to act this way? Interesting question considering i don't have an answer for it.

I look into the mirror hanging in my locker, my eyes searching for anything suspicious. And that's when I see a boy, who stares right back at me with his beady eyes, pushing up his square-shaped glasses before walking up to me. My eyes grow wide as I try to remember who he is. He looks familiar but not someone I'd be acquainted with.

The school hall is still bustling with students as he approaches me with some sort of confidence and awareness, which only makes me more nervous. After a while, he manages to push through the crowds of kids and stands in front of me, smiling briefly- almost professionally- before raising his hand towards me for a shake.

"Hello." The boy says.

I glare at his hand skeptically, digging my nails in my palms, then finally deciding to accept his hand as to not make it seem rude.

"Um- hey?" I mutter, not knowing what else to say.

"I was trying to get myself to talk to you for quite sometime." He explains, now looking more awkward than formal.

"I think I... noticed." I answer, with a polite smile. "Can I ask why?"

He grins, "Well, you're Charlotte Quin, right?"

"Is it that obvious?" A weak attempt to make a joke to lighten the moment.

He laughs, half-heartedly, before saying, "My name is Nathan Fuller. Does that ring a bell?"

I scowl slightly for a moment, trying to catch a grasp of any recognition. Until finally I say, "Nathan....You're one of the writing competitions winner, right?"

He nods, "Just like you."

"Well, congratulations." I say but at this point I'm plain confuse about why he's talking to me.

"As well as to you." He replies.

"I...should get going then?" I say, more like a question than a statement .

Nathan adjusts his glasses on his nose before saying, "Of course but like i said, I wanted to talk to you about something if you have a moment?"

I look hesitantly at my watch, the last warning bell was about to ring.

"Uh sure?"

He gives a look of relief, "Ok cool. I was just wondering if you could join us and the others in the mall café tomorrow?"

"I'd consider it if you refer to the 'us' in more detail?"

"Ahh yes, sorry. I mean Natalie and Kyle. The other winners." He explains, "We're planning to discuss the topic assigned to us."

My mind hits at that as I remember the strange topic.

I realize that I do need help in it.

"Yeah, sure." I shrug.

He claps his hands together, enthusiastically, "Great! Do you think you can get Mr. Tremblay to come? Considering how frank you two are."

I frown slightly at that but quickly hide it. Of course they just think me as a way to get the teacher. Technically, they're using me.

But i smile and mumble an ok.

Because, if i was in this sort of situation like him, I would have done the same thing.

"Alright, cool." He beams, "I'll catch you later then."

With that, he walks away.

I watch him leaving before setting off myself to my classroom.

I'm not looking forward to go and meet these people who technically i'm competing against but it's fine as long as i understand the topic better.

It's fine.

*****************************************

Mr. Tremblay seems unusually quiet today.

I can't help but notice as I pretend to be busy with my essay, glancing every now and then at his desk to see him anxiously glancing at his phone again and again.

The whole class is silent with only a few whispering of passing notes and the scratching sounds of a pencil against a paper. The sunlight beams brightly on my face through the window as I try to block it off with my hands.

"I wonder what's bothering him." I mumble, looking over at Dustin who's busily doodling at his notebook, not at all caring about the deadline being today.

He catches me looking at him and grins widely, pointing at his masterpiece on the his notebook page.

I roll my eyes before motioning at the direction of Mr. Tremblay.

He frowns for a minute, trying to comprehend what I'm saying, then nods in understanding.

"Uhhh Mr. Tremblay." Dustin clears his throat, getting every eye of the class looking at him. "I think you can stop focusing on your phone now and pay attention to us students." He says it boldly, setting everyone into nervous giggles.

Mr. Tremblay doesn't look up from his phone but says, "Oh, just like you're paying attention to your own business?"

Everyone erupts into laughter at his sarcastic comment including Dustin who replies, "Yes, but I'm just having some trouble in it."

"In exactly what do you not have trouble in, Mr. Brown?"

Dustin grins, "Is that a trick question or something?"

Mr. Tremblay rolls his eyes and decides not to pass a witty comment at him.

But Dustin doesn't give up easily, continuing to talk.

"You seem troubled Mr. Tremblay." He says, "Having a rough day?"

Mr. Tremblay, rubs his face, exhaustingly and sighs, "Dustin, could you just... stop talking for a moment?"

The way he says it, in a 'giving up' sort of tone, makes Dustin- and everyone else chattering in the class to shut up.

We all realize that he doesn't seem like himself today.

Nothing like the teacher who'd keep on talking and teaching in class - completely active without any sign of tiredness.

Just then, there's a sound of a phone ringing in the dead silence of the class. Every kid looks directly at Dustin, the only person who'd forget to turn his phone off in class.

But Dustin seems confused as everyone else, looking at me with a frown and mouthing, "Not my phone."

We all look at Mr. Tremblay, who looks pale in the face, his hands shivering as he receives the call, coming from his phone.

"Hello?" He says, standing up.

"Yes, it's me." He slowly walks back and forth the class, all eyes following him.

"Busy?" He mumbles, then looks at us nervously, "Maybe.. Depends on why you called. Anything new?"

There's a hollow silence as the caller tells Mr. Tremblay something that makes his eyes grow wide and his jaw drop open.

"Wh-what?" He whisper-shouts, heading towards the window next to me and opening it, clearly wanting to get some fresh air. The cold winter breeze comes inside with an icy rush, making me flinch a little. "Are- are you sure? Maybe it's not - maybe this is a misunderstanding or-"

Long pause as the person on the end of the phone responds.

"Shit- no don't call her. I'll tell her myself." He answers, looking at me and Dustin for a split second before saying, "Yes, yes. I'm on my way."

Mr. Tremblay doesn't end the call, instead strides towards the exit, glancing at Dustin, who looks curious and a bit serious, given this sudden situation.

"Mr. Brown, do me a favor and go to the head office, tell them I won't be teaching today's classes, because of an emergency. Send a substitute." He orders, quickly, itching to leave. But he stares at me next and says, "Charlotte, take control of the class while I'm gone. Sorry but I won't be able to help you with the competition for some time."

He doesn't wait to hear our answer and rushes away. Everyone looks at each other in confusion, with mumbles and whispers echoing everywhere.

I bring myself away from the commotion when Dustin nudges my shoulder.

"What did you think of that, then?" He asks, scowling.

I shrug, my eyebrows squeezed together, "Emergency?"

"Wonder what it is."

I stand up, "I'd love to but Mr. Tremblay gave us work to do- better start before things get out of hands."

Dustin scoffs, but does the same motion of getting up, saying in a low-tone so only i can hear him, "But they already did."