Sᴇᴘᴛᴇᴍʙᴇʀ 24. 2024.
"Still Don't Know My Name", by Labrinth suddenly begins to play, muffled in the tight back pocket of her jeggings. Gradually, the class becomes quiet and heads turn in her direction, including the teacher's, as she leans to one side retrieving the device to shut it off. However, she catches a glimpse of the caller's ID and hesitates, hissing a low curse at the instant exasperation she feels knowing she has to take the call.
"Sorry, sir, but I have to answer this." She acknowledges the worries of the middle-aged man at the front of the class, who is giving her a dissatisfied glare. She then leaves the classroom with a brief nod, swiping up to accept the incoming call.
Petro speaks first, flustered from the latest trend on the internet, "What is this clip of you and Vincent am I seeing all over the web?" He had thought about boys being a reason why Alessia keeps messing up, but he hadn't dwelled on it. "Is he your new boyfriend now? Is this why you're falling back on what I have taught you for the past 6 years?"
Her mouth twitches once and her eyebrows dip into a painful scowl. She winces unknowingly. New boyfriend? What in the world of guns and bullets is this man—?
"Alessia, I did not say it before and I apologize, but with your kind of job, I don't think having a boyfriend is appropriate." Wait... What?! "It's—"
"Oh my God...!" She gapes like a fish, utterly taken aback.
Petro frowns at her shaken gasp. She doesn't normally have much to share, so the verbalization of her reaction must have struck him the wrong way. However, he continues, "I'm only looking out for you and Vincent..." He trails, all of a sudden pausing in deep thought, "Vincent...is quite the guy based on his lineage now that I think about it..."
Her eyes widen and she swallows an outburst of explicits before speaking rapidly to the old man who's seemingly talking to himself (because he surely isn't waiting for her to respond), "No, no, no, Petro. You can't bombard me with questions then answer them yourself!" She tells him in a tone that's pleading (for him to shut the fuck uuuuup), glancing around and starting down the hall away from her classroom. "Vincent is not my boyfriend. No one is. I have no one." And, what the hell do you mean by 'new'?!
The line is silent for a few seconds, then Petro clears his throat, getting uncomfortable in his seat around his desk, at the embarrassment creeping up his spine. "Ah," he breathes into the phone, "I sincerely apologize. I've just been on edge lately because of your recent misfortunes and I made an assumption."
For fuck's sake... Alessia huffs, unconsciously grasping the material of her sleeveless cropped top over her chest. There is an unnoticeable tinge in her heart as she replies, "Can you not disturb me during school hours? I've had enough of being late for school and missing out on classes for your calls and meetings. I understand if it's urgent, but things like these are a big NO..."
He sighs, finally accepting that despite his negative view on having her attend school, she's still interested in continuing her education. He's staring at his paper-mate ballpoint pen, laying on a pile of documents on his desk, when he remembers what he was saying about Vincent. Sitting up, he muses, "Okay, I won't disturb you anymore during school unless I need to, but about Vincent..."
"What about him?" She inquires monotonously, stopping and leaning back on her locker to catch her breath.
"There's no problem in being with him. I'm just saying. He already knows you and he's in the same line of business. Do you like him?"
Alessia holds her phone away from her ears to peer at the screen incredulously.
"Do you...?" He asks again, itching for an answer.
Not one bit. "HAha!" She cackles, ending the call. Do you?
A smirk graces her facial features as she chuckles along her merry way back to her class. Her mood doesn't last long, being that of sardonic delight and it fades with the sound of the bell and the river of students coming down the hall. They spread out quickly and she finds herself maneuvering throw a heavy, noisy crowd, trying to get to her class.
Truly, she has had enough. In the back of her mind, there is always what Alan and Katya told her. She can't stop thinking about it. She can't stop thinking about all the passed signs she had ignored and proof of their words. She can't stop thinking about that night. It's always on replay in her head, detailed from the rush of air she felt before the explosion to the mud, dust, concrete, steel and lifeless bodies all in one tragic pile afterwards. She can't stop thinking about how unfair life can be when before, she didn't dare to care, knowing that it's just a part of it.
And now, she also knows that there was an option that was chosen that night. Now she knows that no one had to die, but that chosen option killed them anyway.
And, for what?
She won't be the typical depressed teen that claims everything is all her fault. Petro chose mass murder that night, for his own selfish reasons which unfortunately revolves around her. Simply because she resembles his lost daughter, he wants her to become his daughter and everything his daughter was and wasn't.
It makes her sick to her stomach.
"Alessia," the Mathematics teacher catches her attention after seeing her trudge into the empty classroom, pale and dazed, "this came in for you." He holds out a slip of paper that's hooked between his index and middle finger for her to take. He contemplates checking if she's okay, but doesn't bother after she comes back from whatever dark place she had drifted off to and takes the paper with a more attentive look.
It turns out to be a detention slip from the Dean of Discipline for misconduct.
"Tch." She folds it twice and shoves it cleanly into her right, back pocket, then she grabs her bag and notebook she had left, stepping into the busy hall again.
While on her way to her last class for the day, she forgets to switch her books and ends up turning back to find her locker. During her journey, her eyes become fuzzy and her head starts to spin. Her world's turning, her body is shifting through a vortex of black dots. Darkness is so close, however, it rewinds when her palms smack against a wall and she forces her eyes open, which must have closed involuntarily, squinting down at her blurry shoes until they focus.
Alessia inhales deeply, then exhales, doing so repetitively, waiting for the hot dizziness that's hanging over her to disappear. Her eyes are on her feet that are planted firmly to keep her balance and they blink ridiculously fast in wonder, stunned. What the actual fuck was that...?
"Are you not well, Lessi?"
The feeling of arms holding her steady and warmth between her palms instead of a cold, concrete spikes her awareness. She recognizes the voice before she looks up to confirm that it is indeed Phil and his Englishman lisp. Dread fills her face clearly and she pushes away from him. The nickname that he spouted naturally before he could stop himself, flies over her head and she only wishes to get far away from him as quickly as possible.
"I—" I don't even know what just happened. "I'm fine." A shivering whisper.
She lowers her gaze and turns in the direction she was coming from, again forgetting about switching her books for class.