In the Eyes of Innocence ; Raelyn
The next day passed by incredibly slowly. I was in my last period English class, seated between two half-asleep boys who had their heads propped up lazily with one hand. Their cheeks were smudged against their palms, distorting their faces into such comical expressions that clearly spoke of boredom. I couldn't say I was much different from them – minus the facial expression part. I was completely and utterly out of my mind with misery. This class was just so boring. It's not like I need to feed my brain this sort of crap.
And the fact that I shared this class with Nick didn't seem to help, either.
I just wanted out of this room and over with school for the day.
I seemed to be paying attention to his monotone lecture, but in all actuality, I was looking at the clock, whose hour hand – as well as minute hand – failed to move. And it wasn't as if I was eagerly anticipating for something special to happen, but the day was just going by slow. I was beginning to get rather uncomfortable in my seat. You know – posterior getting numb and all that jazz. We were a wealthy school, dammit, the least they could do is afford something better than butt-numbing wooden seats.
I was eager to finally do something productive of my time rather than listen to some boring monologue that I was quite sure he'd repeat the following day. So, it was time to practice the formation of a whole new set of handwriting. Boo on boring monologues!
I debated on whether I should try writing a new style of cursive or print. Should I try super-neat handwriting or a combination of cursive and print, or should I use those really, really, fat girly letters? Or maybe I—
Something hit the back of my head.
I prayed to high heavens that it wasn't someone's chewed gum.
Trying to check for the said object, I casually combed my fingers through my thick mass of hair, raking them over and over again like those airheaded blondes do during class. But this time, unlike them, I was doing it with a more meaningful purpose. I was searching for gum.
There was nothing. I breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe I was imagining things?
I turned back towards my notebook.
But something caught my eye. It was … a ball of paper resting at my feet?
I reached down and picked up the interesting specimen. Screw handwriting! It was time to guess what origami animal it was! I gave the paper a look over. It was carelessly folded up, no definite shape besides a ball. Clearly, whoever made this was not an origami expert. How disappointing.
I poked the paper with my pen, and decided to see if someone drew me a pretty picture. But inside was … gasp! A note!
Sending messages to the student council members during class is a big no no.
Hopefully the idiot who sent this message didn't write his/her name on it, or else he/she would have to suffer dire consequences. Like, detention or something. Note writing during class is strictly prohibited in this school.
I read it eagerly anyway. I mean, I'm on the student council. I can't issue punishment on myself, can I?rae –
i wanna talk 2 u after class 2day. wait 4 me when this ends?
Stupid, stupid boy. I glanced back towards the idiot in mention and saw he was leaning back in his seat and smirking, patiently awaiting my response, sea-grey eyes sparkling with amusement. I arched a brow. Did he expect me to say yes to his poorly written note? With all those grammatical errors? No way. This is not the Internet, and I'm not a netspeak sort of person.
I began to write back. I'll write a note. Just this once. And in proper grammar, as well. As in correct capitalization. I grabbed my pen and hunched over to hide my crime-in-progress.
Well, it didn't have to be long.
I stretched languidly in my seat and handed the note to the person behind me, signaling her to send it to the idiot awaiting my response.
After what seemed like eons later, the class ended, and I was free to go. With a fleeting glance at Nick to see that he had obviously not taken my answer into consideration, I decided to run, flee, dash, sprint, or whatever it took for me to get out of his grasp.
So I grabbed my books and ran. I was doing a good job so far, until I had ran a ways out of the classrooms and far into the deserted corridors of the school that led to the safe vicinity of the tennis courts. Stupid of me, I know. But at least I was winning.
However, the bastard eventually caught me. He had me cornered. In an empty corridor, no less. I bet you he had been planning this the whole time.
I hate him.
"Where do you think you're going?" He hissed into my ear. He had one hand gripping tightly around my left elbow, and the other wrapped possessively around my waist.
If it weren't for the angry air to his voice, I would have thought this little position was a tad bit sexual. Oh. Screw that. This is sexual. We were … a little bit too close for comfort.
"None of your business," I said in reply, and tried to wrench myself free from his grasp. To no avail. This guy had a pretty good vice-grip.
"Is too," He murmured, his anger dissipating.
"Is n—mmph!" Arrogant, rude, controlling boy! He had shut me up by placing his hand over my mouth! I hate him!
At least now his hand wasn't on my waist. But it was on my mouth, and the other had my hands together so I couldn't even try and ply him off me. Can someone say rape?
I tried to bite him. But damn it all, he had cupped his hand away from my mouth so my teeth couldn't even reach his skin.
"You're beginning to annoy me, Rae," He told me casually, as if he was bringing up the subject of the weather. I glared at him defiantly.
He regarded me for a little while longer, and with a sigh, he said, "Alright. I'm going to let you go, and you're going sit down, and you're not going to run away. If you do, I'd catch you and we'd be repeating this damn thing over and over again."
I snorted and angrily averted his gaze. I suppose I had no choice. The guy was in track, after all. I wasn't.
Nick eventually let me go, and I slumped to the floor in reluctant obedience.
"Rae," He called out to me, trying to make eye contact. I refused to grant him his wishes.
"Rae …" He continued, and sat down beside me, in that silly little half crouch, half slumped posture that guys always like to do. I felt his eyes burning into the side of my head.
"Rae – listen to me." He commanded.
I grunted in response. He took that as encouragement to go on.
"I just wanted to talk, okay?" He told me, as if speaking to a little child. I made no reply, and instead closed my eyes. It wouldn't be so bad if I couldn't see him, right?
"You're tired," He commented, to try and ease the awkward silence between us. "Have you been sleeping lately, Rae? You got these marks under your eyes—"
"Look," I growled, "I have better things to do with my time rather than sit here and listen to you insult me on my appearance, alright?"
Nick furrowed his brow, getting a little exasperated himself. "There's something wrong with you, Rae," He told me, ignoring my earlier comment. "And not just mentally."
I glared at him. He only smirked.
"You told me you were sleeping in the library," He pointed out, "And you never sleep in the library."
"Really, genius?" I muttered sarcastically. "Since when did you become an expert on me?"
He gave a nonchalant shrug.
I fumed inwardly. "That's not an answer, you worthless piece of cra—"
"—Rae," He cut me off. "Just tell me what the hell is going on."
I stopped at that, and looked at him – really looked at him. There was no trace of laughter on his face, just concern. Before, I had only thought he was just using this conversation as a chance to try and hit on me, but instead … he was being serious. Which was quite surprising, because, well, there was really nothing much going on with me, in all actuality, despite what he thought. Yes, so I was a little busy. I had a lot of work to do on my hands, after all. School, student council, various extracurriculars and whatnot. But whether or not something was bothering me? There was nothing. Nothing out of the ordinary, that was.
Why was Nick acting all suspicious?
"There's nothing," I said slowly, confused. "Why?"
But he didn't answer me. Instead, he had reached over into his pocket and pulled out some wrinkled note. I regarded him suspiciously. What was he doing?
He flicked the paper onto my lap.
Meet me in the tennis courts at midnight tomorrow. Come alone, and don't be late.
I stared at the paper disbelievingly.
"Explain that," He commanded me. "Who wrote it?"
"Where'd you get that from?" I asked in a startled whisper. "Have you been snooping around my stuff?"
"No," Was the impatient reply. "You dropped it yesterday. Now explain."
"Do I have to?"
Well, if it would get him off of my case …
"It's a prank." I told him simply. "Yes, that's it. A prank. I've been getting a lot of those lately. Some sick joke that when I do go there at whatever ungodly time of night it is, I'd get tied up to a tree, or something. But I'm not stupid."
"So you'd care to explain why you were running there just earlier?"
"You mean the tennis courts? Well, for one thing, it's not midnight. It's like, 2:30 in the afternoon. Do you think someone will try and rape me in broad daylight?" I glared at him. "Obviously not. Plus there's also a game later today, meaning that there would be people around, meaning possible witnesses, so what's the harm in going? There's none, I tell you."
I rolled my eyes for extra effect, but he wasn't anywhere near wavering. I tried a different approach. Looking away, I mumbled, "And I sort of … well, I sort of want to see the game."
He stared at me as if I sprouted three more heads. "No."
"And why not?"
"Because I said so."
"Oh yeah. Like I'd really listen to what you're going to say."
"Rae, you're being stupid. Do you have a mind? What if that note was real?"
"How can you be so sure?"
Nick scowled and promptly stood up. "I'm going to report this to the school admin."
I rolled my eyes. "Don't you think I did that already?"
He stopped and looked at me disbelievingly. "You did?"
"Duh. I told you, I'm not stupid, Stupid."
Nick ignored his new nickname. "Was that why they were trying to call you on the PA before?"
"Mm hmm," I affirmed.
"And?" He prompted.
"Oh my God," I whined aloud. "What are you, my dad?"
"Just shut up and answer," He demanded, impatiently.
I groaned. "They're allowing me to change my email on their school server, and they're going to check my mail periodically at the mail center. Besides the stuff from my parents – and before you get paranoid about anything on that, the school recognizes my parents' letters, 'cause they use this special envelope with a seal that can't be duplicated."
I glared at him for extra measure, and finally spat out an, "Are you happy now?"
Nick seemed only too pleased with himself. "I think I can deal with that for now," He began, a small smile growing on his mouth. His eyes met mine, and for once, I noticed, that there wasn't a trace of cocky self-satisfaction in them, instead a sense of … relief?
I had no words for that.
"Here," Nick said, after a few moments of silence. He stood up from his crouch on the ground, and then turned to me. "Let me walk you back to your dorm, 'kay?"
I looked between his extended hands and the expectant look on his face and then I scowled. "No."
"I'm not taking 'no' for an answer," He answered, and before I knew it, he had pulled me on my feet. "Let's go." He tugged on my hand, but I wrenched quickly wrenched it out of his.
"I may be letting you walk with me," I told him, "But that doesn't mean that I want to be all cuddly-cuddly with you."
I scowled and stomped ahead, with him following behind me, chuckling all the way.
A/N: I'M SORRY! I'M SORRY! I'M SORRY! I don't have a valid excuse this time. I've been lazy and unwilling. But writing this is just so hard. I had to re-write the story summary three times, because my original one was just so complicated and … bah. But I think I'm with the final one now, so no more uncertainties.
So anyway, here's the chapter. I'm not too happy with how it turned out, but I'll eventually go back to it later and edit it, as well as the chapters before it. If you see anything errors with what I've written, I'd be really glad if you told me about it.
Oh, and I will definitely finish this story one way or another, despite any (if they happen again) long waits in the future. The whole story is planned out, and I doubt I can drop it just like that.
And I have also noticed the date that I first published this story on fictionpress: 9/11. I had uploaded it without realizing what the date was, and I know it could be considered a little disrespectful. I'm sorry about that, if it could have offended you in some way …
Thanks to: Jolly B, FrozenWaterFaerie, Osha, Chinx, Trmpetplaya1, give me novacaine, springfly, Esquirella, carrie h potter, kat, birdytamel, amphiboly, Raspberry Ginger, Infinite Abyss, & Syluna of Pyrdegin!
Syluna of Pyrdegin – Haha, I doubt Rae's gonna have sex anytime soon, though. And the spelling of the name Vivien was intended, so I'm not changing that. Thanks for your input though, I really appreciate them. )
Thanks to everyone who reviewed!