When the bell finally rings, and we finally file out of the classroom, a throng of amazed people, most from other classes, surrounds him. I roll my eyes as he is immediately buried by his new fan club, girls and boys alike. Lucas catches my glance before he is swallowed by his admirers, mouthing, "I'll be back soon. Wait for me!"
I hide my smile until he is completely submerged, then it forces itself to the surface, shown for the whole world to see.
***
I am exhausted, physically and mentally, by lunch time.
Lucas has been dogged by so many people that even he is tired now, huffing beside me like a car that has just run out of gas. "This," he says, running a hair through his perfect, blue hair, "is why I haven't gone to school for the last thirty-two years."
I blink, wondering if I had heard him right. "Thirty-two years?" I squeak, my voice barely above a whisper. Even now, as we casually walk down the hallway, people are staring at him, gossiping about the new senior that is sizzling hot.
"Yeah. I was born fifty-five years ago, March 4, 1955, to be exact, and you are not eligible to go to school until you are five. So, that makes about thirty-two years since I last went. I only completed high school, and didn't go to college," he says plainly. My eyes widen with surprise as I absorb his words.
"So you are fifty-five years old," I say dubiously. Somehow, that is hard to believe. He looks like a normal eighteen year old... an incredibly hot one, I must admit.
"Not really," he says softly, looking at the floor as he emits these next words, "a werewolf has no beginning and no end. We are born out of death, and death we shall remain."
I cross my arms, trying to disguise the fact that I am confused. It is hard for me to understand, the meaning behind his statement. "What do you mean… no beginning and no end?" I question, my voice filled with curiosity.
"I'll tell you later," he shrugs, "it will take a little while to explain, and we don't have the time." His carelessness signifies that it is not a huge deal, so I relax a little. Then I stiffen once more as I realize that I am warming up to him. It is like I am constantly waging a war against an undeniable attraction, and the deathly feeling is taking the lead.
However, I will not let it win. I will not fall in love with Lucas.
"Fine," I say as we finally reach the double doors. He steps in front of me, swinging the door open. He shoots me a beautiful smile, holding it so I can enter the lunchroom. I marvel at how much of a gentleman he is, at how respectful and old-fashioned he behaves.
Oh yeah. He was born fifty-five years ago.
The lunchroom houses tables for four, two, and eight. They are scattered within the room, with a buffet on the kitchen side. On the opposite end, there is a stage. A rather lackluster room overall, matching the insipid rest of the school.
We walk to the long line, surrounded by girls as they swarm around the blue-haired idiot. Cries and calls erupt, all directed towards Lucas. I, expressionless, grab a napkin and tray, placing it on the buffet so I can get my daily helping of tasteless mush. Lucas follows my actions, wincing in disgust as he surveys the selection of what the school likes to call "food".
"This is another reason why I haven't gone to school," he mutters as he stacks the slushy mess onto his tray. I look at the tray, avoiding his gaze.
"I deal with it every day," I sigh as I bring the tray to the cashier. Robotically, I punch in my pin number and pay for the food. Every month, the orphanage gives me twenty dollars for my cafeteria account. Lunch, however, is one dollar, leaving me to go without lunch for a couple of days.
Lucas pulls out a tender green bill, handing it to the old and withered cashier. She takes it, her eyelashes fluttering as she shoots Lucas a flirty smile, and examines the thin piece of paper. Suddenly, her eyes widen and she waves the bill at him. "A hundred dollar bill?" she asks, surprised.
He waves her off, "keep the change."
Her eyes are nearly bulging out of her skull. "But lunch is a dollar..." she says, incredulous.
"Oh really?" he asks as he looks at the horror splurging on his tray, "I thought it would be less. This looks absolutely disgusting." Laughs explode around the lunchroom, all attention focused on the beautiful man. The funny thing about it is, Lucas is totally serious when he is talking to the cashier. He means the upmost respect.
Even I can't prevent a laugh from bubbling forth.
"Take it," he says to her, rather disappointingly, "use the money to improve your food so the students will actually eat it." With a last, disdaining glance, he walks to my side. Cheers ensue, the whole student body agreeing with his words. "Come on, Ava," he demands, authority oozing from him. He leads the way to a table for two in the corner of the lunchroom, oblivious to the awed glances sticking to him like glue.
He pulls out the rusty chair, it squeaking as it complied with his will. I stand, waiting for him to sit down, my form awkwardly lingering by his side. He gestures towards the chair, realization coming upon me as I find out that he actually wants me to sit down. Blushingly I obey his command, flattered that a boy would actually do that for me.
Lucas huffs to the other chair. Glancing at me, he asks quietly, "why is everyone looking at us?"
"Because you just voiced their opinion," I whisper back.
"I'm surprised no one else has," he snorts as he surveys the food before him, "this is gross."
I take my spoon, dipping it into the food, raising it to my lips. With a forced swallow, I gag down the bit of food, sighing with relief as it graces my dreadfully empty stomach. No matter how disgusting the food is, I need to choke it down.
Lucas watches me as I eat, a grimace decorating his face. "Why are you eating that?" he asks, pure disgust in his features. I shrug, though the truth is that this is almost all I get to eat every day. If I tell Lucas that, though, he will have a fit.
He tilts his head slightly as he surveys me, watching me scarf down the catastrophe. "You have to eat it, don't you?" he guesses correctly as I savor every piece, each bit making the horrible feeling in my stomach lighten.
I nod my head, taking a swig of my milk with tender fingers. After another silence, I finally finish my lunch, feeling like a pig for gobbling it down so fast. "Can... I have your milk, Lucas?" I question, looking pointedly at his unopened carton.