Falling Like The Stars || UNDER HEAVY EDITION ||

Ten

"Here we are!" He exclaimed at the white-doored cabin, where a silver plate carefully embedded with "Chemistry Laboratory" written on it. He shoved the door and unlike my previous school, this lab seemed much inviting.

"Oh, Jake, come in and take your seat," the teacher immediately greeted him, and I noticed every fare seat of the girls were preserved for him. "So who's it going to be today: Alicia? Kiara? Rose?"

Jake grimaced at the teacher, "The last bench today, Miss Lindy."

He searched for my eyes and appeared thrilled with himself for opting for the final. The teacher then surrounded me, "Oh what we have here? She seems ready with her mask already."

For a second, I felt a fringe of glee that this could be a better start. Nonetheless, that delight was quickly broken by an apprentice, "She has some disease."

The laboratory hushed down and I could my heart clashing on the ground, shattering to a million pieces.

"She has cystic fibrosis, and that's not contagious. It's a genetic infection that affects the lungs and digestive system. But, like mentioned, it's not transmissible. It's even in Wikipedia, so I'd insist that you don't spread rumors of something that you've no knowledge about."

Stunned and stimulated, I surfed through the students to verify who said that. And I was confounded when I realized it was...

Jake?

The graders searched for their jaws that felt dropping on the floor. Even I was dumb folded. The blonde who announced the syndrome to the class turned at him.

"Wikipedia is not a reliable site, Jake."

He stood up with laughing eyes. "Then you'll be affirmative with this fact that books don't lie, right? Well, you can easily find this in the Medical Studies Book For Young, page number 102, to be clarified. If that's not enough, you can also find it in the Doctor's Encyclopedia, pages 144 to 178, which is even available in the internet as well as the library, Shakira."

Damn.

The teacher grinned, "Looks like someone's been researching."

I seized myself to encounter his eyes. There was something laughing in them. I couldn't help but revive some memories.

"You think this is funny? Oh wait, of course you do. You all do. Just because I'm—this, you people prefer to avoid me. And no matter what, that's never going to be hilarious to me."

He surely did research.

"So, we've got to find you a seat now," the instructor heeled upon the class. Immediately, the girls who preserved seats for Jake ditched their bags on them. The teacher sighed at me, "Guess only place left—"

Don't say Jake.

"With Mr. Genius, Jake."

I furrowed my eyebrows, looking at him. He waved at me. Jesus, I can't believe God is doing this to me.

I heaved a deep breath, surrendering on the fact that I had no other option. Strolling towards his bench, I met eyes with the ferocious blonde, who seemed to lose the game with Mr. Fame.

I crossed my arms, standing beside his cabinet. "Hi," he uttered gently. I wanted to believe it wasn't fake, but better not expect anything so soon.

Disregarding his greeting, I stumbled upon the seat, hauling my gloves over my fingers. He watched me intently. And it lasted for ten straight minutes. The nerves crept up my spine; I couldn't hold it anymore.

"Why are you looking at me?" I scowled at him.

"Just wondering," he started. "How you don't have a single clue of your beauty under this mask."

I decided to leave a short grunt. He inclined his head, "There's such a huge difference when you wear that and when you don't."

"So you're saying that I should let everyone make fun of me while removing the masquerade forever?"

He sighed with a sneer, "See? You don't know you're beautiful." His grin grew wider, "And that's what makes you beautiful."

I felt goosebumps on my skin. Who was this guy?

The teacher cleared her throat, "Okay, students, now using the instructions on your notepad, show me some reactions. You've been granted twenty minutes to discuss it over your partners and make it."

Jake aimed at me. "So...I don't think you've the notes, do you?"

I shrugged, "Not really."

He shoved his notebook between us. "Choose an experiment."

I arched my eyebrow at him. "Are you trying to impress me?"

"You bet I'm," he chuckled. "Probably knowing the fact that you hate me."

And for the first time, I smiled under that supportive cover up. This actually satisfied me that no one could see it. "Experiment 14, it is then."

***

"I've no idea what this is," Jake larked at the conclusion of our assignment. "I'd rather say it looks like..."

"Poop," I ceased his sentence.

"Exactly."

"Why is this so...brown?"

"Looks like we fed the dog too much."

"Way too much."

The mentor walked towards us. Her eyes widened at our project. "What even is this—?"

Jake snickered, "Experiment 1 turned out to be dog poop."

"It better be a failed experiment than some real excrete." The teacher snorted. "You both get a C for this weirdo."

When she left, I approached eyes with Jake. He progressed laughing while I just examined him in silence. He seemed to have no fear of anything. I didn't know if this was something I should be inspired of, or afraid.

But clearly, he seemed blissful with what he was.