chapter 2

Chapter 2

     After a minute, the booth cracks on the tiles again, and continues. I wait for a few seconds before I can gather enough courage to look upwards. I remembered Mr. Langford's rules from this morning. Even though I know I can't keep it, I still have to give him a little bit of respect by trying. He didn't say not to look behind him. I bet he was probably referring to an eye contact.

It's a leather jacket that shines black rubber. It's paired with faded whitish-blue jeans that reach his heavy dark booth, looking like a G.I Joe. Especially with that hair of his that always seems to be longer than mine, no matter how hard I try. For a split second, I am lost in his glossy hair that is packaged in a low ponytail. I wonder how he was able to maintain it in prison —I mean juvie. Of course, long hair serves as a covering. It is covering his dubious act. It has always made him look smart, handsome, and sympathetic. His broad shoulders move at a linear pace as his steps. He looks taller, of course, he's taller. He is no longer the eleven-year-old child that I knew when I first met him, ( if I ever did.) I look at him till he is out of sight. Immediately, the hall is now a mess of a rush hour, with everyone murmuring and gasping as if they have just seen a ghost. But the truth is, everyone had just seen a ghost maker.

"Damn," Zack mutters as he turns to face me. I shrink as I've just been caught by a scary monster. I take a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. "You okay?" Zack asks.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. I just need to get to class," I say instantly and scoot to the restroom. As soon as I get inside the stall, I start to breathe heavily. I place my palm on my chest and feel the crucial condition of my heart. It is unable to settle. 

I need help. 

I look at the mirror in front of me, and I see the reflection of the spooked eleven-year-old me who had just watched her friend's life drained out of her. Tears seeping through her eyes. I close my eyes tightly and imagine my mom telling me everything is fine. I still don't understand what she meant by that, because everything is so messed up. I wipe my tears and sum up all the courage I can muster, before getting to class.

Never has Professor Sheldon been absent from a lecture. He takes the entirety of his twenty minutes very seriously, so seriously that he is willing to risk his health to give us a couple of sentences. My body is starting to perspire as a result of everyone's non-stop blabbing about who just entered the school. Their creaking sound makes the air feel heavy. Suddenly everyone hushes. The sudden silence of everyone makes me curious. When I raise my head, I see Professor Sheldon standing in front of the classroom. A black briefcase that seems to be heavy is held in his left hand, while his right hand holds a handful of books. He puts down the briefcase and the books on the front desk as he scrutinizes us with his four eyes. His glasses fall to his pointy nose, and his eyes bulge through them. Everyone maintains a suitable posture for Professor Sheldon's eyes which are scanning at us like a CCTV camera.

"Ahem," he clears his throat after a few seconds, probably not able to pinpoint any fault on us.

"Good morning, Professor."  I can recognize Zack's voice anywhere.

"Good Morning to you too," Professor replies.

Everyone starts to greet him after he responds warmly. 

"Which of the books are we not done with?" He asks as he picks up the books from the desk. 

"HIDDEN PICTURE," someone says.

Professor Sheldon makes a sound in the back of his throat as he shuffles the books, probably because that person is wrong. There are about six books with interesting covers. I stretch out my head to get a glimpse of the names, but I was only able to capture the word The devil… It was written in red and blue. I understand why the professor finds it difficult to remember our last read when he reads about four books in a time interval of forty-eight hours. I guess that is why I tolerate him, because of his love for books. He finally picks one out of the others. He raises the book and it happens to be my first mystery favorite. A good girl's guide to murder. I know it's not common for a mystery novel to be added to a school syllabus, but after the school riot about what they could gain from it, the school had no choice but to add it. Sometimes, I wonder if there's any lesson learned from mystery novels other than biting fingernails. 

"Page seven!" he says at once. Everyone begins to turn to page seven. It has become a habit for me to read ahead of the class. The suspense could kill me, so I don't do it. "Who do you think killed Sali?" Professor Sheldon asks. He separates the book with one finger. There is a bit of muttering and itching jaws.

"Death!" His audible voice immediately directs my gaze to him as he walks into the classroom. I immediately lower my head to avoid any form of eye contact. But I honestly want that. I want to look into his eyes. I want to inspect the changes in him. I want to see how far he has grown. I want to see the difference in him that I never saw. The sound of the murmurers has now become an awful song in my ears. 

"Silence!" Mr. Sheldon commands, and everyone frighteningly obeys. "And who are you to barge into my class like that?" I hear Mr. Sheldon question him. I am fiddling with my finger, and my body has been passing through some kind of current, like an electric shock.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I was supposed to be at literature class at 8:30 am, but I couldn't find my way," he replies, and my heart hits my chest again. He still has that low-tone voice of a polite little boy, but it has become a little thicker.

"I wasn't informed about that, young man," Professor Sheldon says. 

I hear him smack his lips. "I think you were sir, by uhm…one Mrs. Oscar? Sounds familiar?" Okay, it's definitely him talking. JEREMY JACOB OSCAR. Always speaks in a way to make you look like a fool.

"Oh," Professor Sheldon utters after a few seconds of silence. "Uhm…I didn't realize she's…"

"It's fine." He cuts him off. "I bet you can't spot the resemblance through those fine glasses of yours," he adds. I can tell how surprised everyone is by his audacity. Even when we were little, Jeremy was the adult among the five of us. His ideas are always a bomb blast.

As he walks past the row of my seat, he pauses. My head is buried below my shoulder and my eyes are stuck to his black heavy booth. After a second, he proceeds to the seat at the end wall next to me. I take a deep breath to calm my nerves.

The bell rings me out of my shimmering state, then I realize how absent I have been throughout the whole fifteen minutes of Professor Sheldon's readings. I join my classmates who wouldn't wait for a second to pass by before dashing out of class. Proceeding to my locker, with my school bag hanging on one shoulder, Zack appears beside me, but I act unfazed by his appearance.

"How interesting to find out that Stoneybrook's number one murderer is into mystery books…" he says. "Bet that's where he got his inspiration from," he mutters close to my ears. He sounds amazed, as if killing someone is an achievement.

Getting to my locker, I smile. "Please don't blame it on innocent books," I say, opening my locker. I bring out my chemistry textbook which I'll be needing for my next class, and put back the ones which I won't.

"Yeah? How innocent are books?" He says, relaxing beside my locker. He places one foot on the wall and slides his hands into his pockets. "I think 80 percent of evil done by humans is coached by books or some psychological movies," he adds. As I am about to close my locker, my eyes bump into the childhood photo of the five of us that is stationed at the back. Kaela was in the middle front. She had placed her hands on her hips, and her smile was so broad that it revealed all of her milk teeth, including the ones she had lost. I can hear Zack talking, but I'm absently minded. I'm thinking about how old we were exactly when the photo was taken, and who had taken it. But one thing is for sure, I wasn't happy, it was all over my face. With my tight jaw, the strawberry ice cream spills on my favorite Spongebob top, along with what appears to be some redness in my eyes. Had I been crying? Who spilled ice cream on me, and why do I look like a girl who's ready to give a punch? The small voices are loud enough to bring me back to reality. Everyone is whispering to themselves again, with glints of fright burning through them. Their gaze is fixed in one direction. I follow it and it lands on Jeremy. I watch him walk past me. He seems nonchalant, and the thoughts of everyone do not agitate him one bit.

"He has only been in school for about an hour and he seems to be the most popular kid," Zack says. 

If I'm not wrong, I think Zack admires him, a murderer. "Yeah." standing in front of him, I block his view from staring at Jeremy. "But not the good kind of popular." I'm starting to see how tricky this whole thing is on Zack, I just hope he doesn't fall for it, just like Kaela did.

"I think he gets it, A."  Someone's voice falls in, someone I know so well. I look across the hall and find Matthew leaning on his locker, which happens to be opposite mine. His hands are buried in his solid dark jeans that are not as dark as his skin tone. The moment my eyes meet Alisyn, she looks down at her toenails which are in substantial heels as she traces her arm off Mattew's shoulder. I put my focus back on Matthew. "Does anyone actually get it?" I ask him the question only he and Alisyn can understand, making sure my voice is on a minimum volume. He stares at me for a couple of seconds, then he sets his head down.

"Is everything O…Kay?" Zack speculates the three of us.

Alisyn smacks her lips. "Of course, everything is fine, Zacky." she smiles at Zack, a cute one. "And if I'm not mistaken…" she sashays to us with her hips whirling her short flare red and black skirt. "I think me and Zacky here…" she trails one finger on Zack's chest. "Need to go study about the world," She says as she looks at me. My eyes go wild, I've never since the two of them been this close. Zack on the other hand is either high on testosterone or he's flabbergasted. "Come on." She grabs Zack by the arm, trooping him along. Matthew and I observe closely.

Zack turns to me while Alisyn is still dragging him along. "And…and by that, she means Geography!" He shrieks.

"He's such a cute-spoiled baby," Mattew utters as soon as they are out of sight.

"He's not spoiled, but he's cute, and well…he does act like a baby," I say as I amble to my next class, and he tags along. He smiles at me. Damn, no matter how much I think I hate him, I still can't ignore how beautiful he is. He has the most amazing set of pure angelical teeth, and his tricky hollow dimples always turn me on. 

"Guess that was how he was able to cheer you up." 

 We stand outside chemistry class. "Who said I'm cheered?" I tell him before stepping into class, and he follows up behind me.