Those Cold Eyes ✓

Chapter 2

Halfway through the school day, after several more or less tedious lessons, Tyra pulled me toward the cafeteria again. My stomach was grumbling, and judging from Tyra's snappish comments, I had proclaimed her a 'hangry' person. I didn't mind-my mother was very much like that. If her blood sugar dropped, she could blow up over the smallest thing only to forget it once she'd had something to eat.

"Hey Tyra," a girl said and stopped us just as we were about to enter the large room filled with raging hormones. She seemed to be one of those chicks who liked to flaunt as much skin as possible. Sexy wasn't a word I would use, but then again, I didn't play that way.

I looked at Tyra and saw her surprised expression. She didn't hide it very well, so this was obviously no one she even bothered to be nice to. I noticed an evil glint in her eye, then a smirk. She was planning something.

"Dana," Tyra answered pleasantly. "Have you met Dylan?" Oh, no she didn't!

The busty girl turned toward me, smiling wide but failing to include her eyes. Her bleach-blonde hair hung half-way down her back and her lashes were too long to be real. I didn't understand why people cared so much about their appearance, but none for their personality. I knew it was awful of me to judge her, but there was something decidedly empty in her eyes that told me to stay far away from her.

"Hi Dylan," she said, trying to use some kind of sultry voice. Total failure. "Going to the party tonight? I promise I'll make it worth your while." Could she be any more obvious? I groaned aloud and walked away, not caring if I left her without any other acknowledgment. I heard Tyra giggle behind me. I was glad I could make someone happy at least.

As she caught up with me I shot her a glare. "Thanks," I said, letting sarcasm drip from the word. She continued to laugh, and I let out a badly suppressed chuckle.

"The others are going to be so jealous that they weren't there to see it. Priceless!" She seemed to struggle with containing her giggles.

"So, who was that anyway?"

"She's the queen around here, if you get what I'm saying."

"Really?"

"Yes, I know. It's unbelievable, but guys and their dicks...I guess I can't blame them. Poor creatures. Can't think straight."

"You bet they can't," I joked, making her realize what she just said, which made her laugh again.

---

Tyra was right: the others were jealous. They even made me high five my apparent victory over the princess of bitches. Their high spirits finally got to me and I laughed with them instead of sitting there wondering why the hell this was so special. Other than that, it was quite the uneventful lunch-no screams or bitch-slaps to lighten up the atmosphere. Even the food was uneventful.

After finishing my last sorry piece of pasta, I left the others and walked to the one class I wouldn't have with any of them. The art room was located at the top floor, according to Tyra, and I started to climb the stairs. After the fourth one, I turned left, hoping that I had chosen the right direction.

Lost in thoughts I managed to bump my shoulder into something, or rather, someone.

"Watch out, jackass!" a venomous voice hissed behind me. I craned my neck and saw a stunning face with a red hand slashed across his cheek. Zach.

"Dito, fucker!" I hissed back, shooting him a hard glare. He might be attractive, but I didn't need anymore drama in my life. I could see him tighten up, squinting his eyes in mild surprise before his face turned into stone again. Perhaps it was a bad idea to reply when I wanted nothing to do with him, but the response came by its own accord. I wasn't used to being shoved around.

He didn't answer back, which was somewhat unexpected. I had pinned him as an always-gets-the-last-punchline kind-of-guy. Or just the last punch.

"Hey," I shouted after him, knowing I was tempting fate for no reason. "Where's the art room?"

He didn't turn around-didn't acknowledge me at all-making his back into a straight middle finger. It made me chuckle as I realized I'd done the exact same thing to that girl before. I stood there for a while, lost in new thoughts. I didn't know why I let him get to me.

"The art room is in that direction," a soft voice called from behind. I looked up and saw a scrawny boy hiding beneath his dark hair. He pointed in the direction where Zach had disappeared.

"Thanks. You headed there?" I saw him flinch at my question, resembling a scared little rabbit caught in a corner.

"Yeah..." he answered, just as softly. It was barely audible despite the silence around us. I noticed that he actually was quite cute. If I had been into that fragile emo-look I would have swept him up in a second. However, I guessed he could use a friend.

"Cool, I'm Dylan."

He eyed me suspiciously, as if he didn't trust me at all, as if I shouldn't have said my name. This guy was obviously not used to simple kindness.

"Uhm.." he faltered. "Sebastian."

His name was spoken in a whisper, so tiny that I almost didn't catch it.

"So, Seb, ready to lead a lost guy to where he needs to be?"

I saw a hint of a smile spreading across his face, but it was fleeting and gone as quickly as it had arrived. Then he started to walk, and I had to run a few steps to catch up. After that I figured it was best to stay quiet. He obviously wasn't comfortable with chit-chat, but there were other ways to win him over, surely.

He showed me the way into a beautiful room with huge windows everywhere, allowing the sun free access. I instantly knew this would be my haven here. I loved art class, and this room definitely didn't make it worse. I looked around the room, seeing multiple faces staring at me. Almost every face but one. Of course he was here. He slouched over the bench, but even so, he was the centerpiece, the single flame in a dark room. It was odd, and I didn't like the realization.

"You must be Dylan, please take a seat next to Zach over there." I turned my head and saw a neat little woman pointing toward an unoccupied bench next to the person with a big red warning sign blinking around him. This was getting better and better. Not.