I hate math. I wasn't terrible at it, but math and grammar classes were the most compulsory classes in school, and missing them meant your parents had to come in, so everyone attended. Everyone except the homeschoolers.
The home-scholars were a group of students who were technically home-schooled but still took exams at school. That's it. They didn't attend classes or do midterms; they just showed up for exams. It was more expensive, but that didn't stop some families. To me, it seemed like an elaborate scam to milk extra money from parents. Only a few students opted for this, and if you did, you were either seen as a 'snob' or as someone 'cool'.
The so-called snobs were the ones who came only for the exams. Smart, rich, and perpetually serious, they had that no-nonsense attitude that made them seem insufferable. Then there were the cool kids, like Wailey, who came to school, hung out with the 'regular' cool kids, and blended in effortlessly. I begged my mom to let me become a home-scholar, but she always said no. Not because we couldn't afford it, but because she didn't want me becoming any more antisocial. Which, to be fair, was a reasonable point. Still, I would've preferred to stay away from school entirely.
So, there I was, stuck in one of the two classes I dreaded most—Math. I walked in with Wailey, and as usual, the "cool kids" swarmed around her , practically buzzing in her presence. I took it as an opportunity to squeeze out of the crowd of certainly desperate people. Happy with my successful retreat, I returned to my solitary, fulfilling, and invincible life.
I headed straight for my usual seat, at the farthest corner of the room. As I walked down the row, I pulled my hoodie up, trying even harder not to be noticed. I sat, lowering my head and zoning out for a few minutes before realising I hadn't checked the time. I pressed a button on my smartwatch. 12:20 p.m. I glanced at Wailey. She was laughing and talking to Tasha , one of the loudest 'regulars.'
I frowned, irritated. I was twenty freaking minutes early. "I am so going to kill that girl," I thought, but then decided I might as well rest my head before class started.
Before I could fully relax, the door swung open, and the classroom noise dropped. Mr. Andrews walked in, an instant silencer. "Could someone please tell Miss Alphares to either wake up or get out of my class? Thank you," he called out immediately as he entered.
Just as I started to sit up, something hit me in the forehead. A chewed-up spitball. I muttered under my breath, "Spit ball," as I heard a voice from across the room yell, "Bull's eye!"
Oh, and Mr. Andrews hates me. Ever since I dared suggest that the quadratic formula was overcomplicating things and you could just use elimination. Big mistake. It's been like he's got it out for me ever since, which makes no sense. Who would be that touchy about math? And why he's being such a baby about it completely baffled me.
I straightened up, pulling my hoodie down and pulling out my math book while checking my watch again. 12:24. He was sixteen freaking minutes early, and since no one else seemed bothered, I kept my mouth shut, not wanting to get him any angrier.
He began the class, introducing matrices. The class was short but felt like it lasted five years, and by 12:45, it was over. As usual, I stayed silent, avoiding any attention. My next class, art, didn't start until 1:15, so I had a bit of time to kill before the cool kids got bored and started messing with me. I quickly packed up my things, eager to leave.
That's when I heard Stacey's voice. "Hey! Where are you going?"
Someone appeared in front of my seat, casting a shadow that made him look taller than he was. I froze, bracing myself for the worst. It was my fault, after all. I hadn't left the hall fast enough. He stood there and asked the least threatening question ever, "Hi, can I sit?"
I was confused. It didn't sound like a trick question, but that could just be the trick. Trick me into a sense of security and then pounce. I glanced around, peeking up to the front where Wailey and the other cool kids were all seated and staring at me. All except Wailey, of course. She was busy trying (and failing) to keep Tasha interested in whatever she was saying. They were all looking in my direction. What was going on? This was scary. And who was standing in front of me? And could Stacey stop glaring at me? Her stare could bore a hole through my skull.
I resumed packing my bag, figuring I might as well be ready to leave whenever they were done. He sighed, and instead of sitting in the chair in front of me, he took the seat beside me, resting his head on one hand as he watched me. I could feel his gaze on me, sharp like a spotlight, like a predator sizing up its prey. The room's initial laughter faded to a dull hum in the background as the weight of his stare settled over me. I sat up straight, tense. It must have been funny to him, because he chuckled before saying, "Hey! Ailey! She's your friend, right? Is she always this... modest?"
Wailey answered from the front of the room without missing a beat, "No, she just kind of has a laid-back way with people."
I gulped slightly. I expected the class to erupt in laughter, but there were only a few snickers from the back.
Then it hit me: Did he just say Wailey's name? Like… her actual name?
I blinked, lost in thought, and didn't catch what he said next. I only saw his mouth moving from the corner of my eye. I turned to look at him. I nearly choked. It was the jock from the cafeteria. The weird one who hadn't done anything obnoxious.
He stretched his arm out towards me. I shook his hand warily, expecting the typical prank—a buzzer or maybe a spider crawling up my skin. For some strange reason, I kept my hand in his handshake, waiting for the punchline, but just like in the cafeteria, nothing happened.
I stared at our hands, impatiently waiting for the joke to unfold. But nothing came. The impatience finally gave me the courage to look up, and he was just... smiling. Not in a mocking way, but a soft, almost sincere smile. Why is he smiling at me like that? Am I missing something? I met his gaze for a second, but it felt too weird, so I looked away.
"You didn't hear me earlier, did you?" He said quietly, like he was talking to someone half asleep.
It didn't sound like he had any ulterior motive, but then again, what did I know? Was this some sort of scheme? I shook my head slowly. "No."
His smile widened, and then he said in a voice barely louder than a whisper, "Hi. I'm Axel. Nice to meet you."
My stomach twisted, like I'd just stepped into a trap I didn't see coming. You have got to be kidding me. This definitely had to be some kind of joke.
"Dude..." One of the jocks I surprisingly didn't know groaned, then continued, "... You just said that. Ailey said she's unique, not demented—wait! You're not demented, right?" Realising he was talking to me, I shook my head, feeling like a lamb being led to slaughter. I glanced back at Axel. He was still smiling at me, his smile warm enough to even the devil's heart—assuming his heart was cold, that is—and I felt like the ground should just open up and swallow me whole.
I wanted to pull up my hoodie, but then I remembered my hand was still in Axel's. How the hell had I forgotten that? I felt trapped. My life stinks.
After what felt like years of him staring at me while I stared at our clasped hands, contemplating how terrible my life was and how I was going to end up killing Wailey one way or another, Axel finally answered his friend. "Well, you know how much I like repeating myself now, don't you?"
His friend looked as though he was about to kill himself; he banged his head softly on the table several times before saying, "Well, we're all getting late, so you better hurry up with your repeated words."
Just then, Wailey left to take a phone call, and Axel's friend groaned again, muttering something about being done with this before getting up and leaving. The others followed him out like sheep following the shepherd. I expected Axel to do the same, but he just smiled, waiting until the last one had left. I could see them out the window, standing in the hallway.
"We're all hanging out at the coffee shop. Wanna come?"
He asked the question out of nowhere, and I nearly choked. "Huh?"
"There's a concert there," he added casually. "Weird, I know, a daytime concert, but it's The Authors, and everyone's going. So, do you want to come?"
Wait. Seriously? Were these kids insane? Are they really planning ditching school for a concert? I loved The Authors, but ditching school was crossing the line. Plus, if everyone was going, that was a solid ninety-nine reasons to stay away.
I had to get out of this mess. "E — Erm… I'm sort of having an arts class," I said, barely making eye contact. "So, I can't really go. Sorry."
He looked surprised for a second, muttering 'She talks' under his breath. Then, "Wait, you have a class?"
I nodded, feeling a little guilty as I watched his face fall. "Well, that's not possible," he said. "The teachers are having this weird get-together thing, and the council made it compulsory so they wouldn't miss it…"
Wait. What was he talking about? Did I miss something? How did I not know about this?
He paused. "—You weren't listening when they announced it, were you? Still, school's over, so are you coming?"
I was still trying to grasp the fact that school was over, and all I heard was 'are you coming?', so I quickly looked for another excuse. "I still have to do my assignments, so I'm kind of busy," I said, my voice strained.
"Assignments." I nodded as if he were asking me a question. He sighed dramatically then said, "Okay... so I guess you're not coming, that is?" His tone sounded disappointed, and I almost felt bad. I shook my head in response. But then he stood up and left.
I exhaled in relief, my heart finally slowing down. With Wailey and Axel out of the picture, I was finally free to slip away unnoticed. I looked out the window and saw Axel give the head-banger jock a sort of cool handshake before they both started walking away. I waited another ten minutes in the hall to avoid running into them, making sure the coast was clear.
I finally stood up absentmindedly and walked out; the hallway was almost empty, with barely twenty students left. I saw the people walking beside me, but they were just blurry, vague images. My brain was still trying to process where my mind could have been when the announcement that could have saved me from a lot of trouble was being made. That's when I felt something in front of me. I moved to the side. It followed me. I tried again, and it followed again. Then it poked my head slightly.
I stumbled, about to fall, when suddenly, strong hands caught me, pulling me upright. I froze. It was Axel. He was holding my hands, pulling me back into balance. I woke up.
I shifted uncomfortably, trying to steady myself. His eyes never left me, studying every move I made. I met his gaze for a second, but it felt like my insides were being examined under a microscope. Keeping his gaze was hard, as he had these eyes that looked as though at least a century had been spent crafting them. His eyes... They were blue. No, not just blue— the edge of his iris was this shade of blue that was so dark, it almost seemed black. It had an icy blue colour that was so frozen that it seemed as though his eyes were glowing, a sharp contrast to my dull greyish green ones. I quickly looked away, feeling like I was being analysed.
"You're a clumsy one, aren't you?" Axel said with a playful chuckle.
"I thought you had left?" I asked, annoyed at myself for not spending enough time in the hall before coming out.
"Nope. I told them to go ahead without me. I made you miss the bus... Well, you would've missed it anyway, but still, someone has to make sure you get home okay."
His words were casual, like we'd been friends for years. The calm tone of his voice was so inviting, making you want to talk back to him in the same casual tone. I saw a void. One that, if I walked through it, would be the end of me.
I went over everything he said. He'd made me miss the bus, yes. He also said I would have missed it anyway—also true; no problem there. And now he was saying he'd make sure I got home? Wait what? Was this some kind of trap?
I looked at him, unnerved by his intensity. "What?" I finally managed to say, my discomfort showing in my voice.
I glared at him, but he didn't seem fazed. "Since everything needs to be spelt out for you," he continued, "I was apologising for making you miss the bus, and I offered to take you home."
He smiled after saying it, like he'd won some small victory. He looked like a kid who had just solved a puzzle.
I took a deep breath, trying to keep my frustration in check. "I think I'm capable of taking myself home." I had wanted to say this nicely, but as the words came out, they had a slight bit of rudeness tied to every syllable.
Axel stepped back, smiling, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "Whoa… I knew you weren't that un-lively," he said with a grin, his tone mocking, "Oh, and yes, I knew that it's just that you'd have to walk home whereas I could drive you."
"Well, you don't have to; I'll get home just fine, thank you," I replied curtly. "And I actually prefer walking," I added, so he wouldn't try to push the conversation any further.
"There's nothing I say that'll change your mind now, is there?" he asked.
I was so close to losing it, but I took a step back. "I'll walk. It's fine, really."
"Alright," Axel said, backing away and clearing the way for me. Finally.
I walked towards the door, trying to keep my pace steady without being a potential hazard to my surroundings or myself. It was hard, but I managed and successfully made it through the school door and out of the school grounds without tripping on anything or myself.