Mirage (ON HOLD for revision)

Chapter 7: Peas on a pod

“Hey, Matt—“

More people started filing in and Cedric lost the opportunity to tell him something honest for once. He wouldn’t have dared to, not in a million years, but with his face clear of his overgrown hair, it was all too easy to see the distant look in Matt’s eyes. He was so far inside his mind, into whatever it was that called him back that he didn’t seem to notice when his eyes started to fill with tears dangerously threatening to spill.

“Oops, got to run. I’m late,” Cedric said as he all but jumped off his seat.

“You’re just realizing that now?” Matt asked with dry humor.

Somehow, Cedric understood that Matt wasn’t untouchable at all.

He reluctantly walked out of the room, belatedly realizing his next class is his last for the day.

“Seriously, constantly drifting in and out of space at the lightest shove…” Cedric thought in annoyance as he loitered around the hallways, “Where does he wander off?”

Cedric dejectedly sank on a misplaced bench and closed his eyes, hoping to remember what he couldn’t since yesterday, of Matt’s jackets and long-sleeved shirts. The scar was old, but Cedric could easily tell how deep it must have been. He would have heard of a neighbor being rushed to the hospital in an ambulance, and no doubt he would remember the sirens given his fascination with death, the same fascination Matt quietly vanquished. But there was nothing of the sort no matter how many years back he went. It wasn’t a scar that would stop bleeding with pressure, Cedric thought with certainty as his hand unconsciously reached out to trace a spot above his left temple, which still tingled of cold staples once in a while.

“This sucks,” Cedric muttered as he pulled at his hair and screwed his eyes shut, drowning the shadows with darkness and self-inflicted pain.

“There’s a clinic at the end of the hall and to the right.”

Opening his eyes grudgingly, Cedric confirmed that it was Professor Art.

“Thanks,” Cedric plainly replied, resisting the urge to question him and opted to walk away instead.

Unfortunately, for some reason, Professor Art seemed to be bent on seeing him to the clinic.

“Are you a friend of Matt’s?” Professor Art asked without any trace of hesitation. Nevertheless, it doesn’t tell Cedric anything about what the professor could possibly want with Matt. But it does confirm his suspicion.

“More like acquaintances?” Cedric replied smoothly, deliberately pacing his walk to make the most of the short distance between the bench and the clinic. “Did you need something from him?”

“No, not really, I was just worried about his absentmindedness,” Professor Art replied, except it didn’t sound quite true to Cedric’s ears. It takes one liar to know another after all. “There are students who would love to attend this university. It’s disappointing to see students enrolled here who don’t even realize that.”

Cedric nodded thoughtfully, mentally counting to ten, a trick he adopted to be as placid as Matt, if only on the outside. But seeing fault after fault in every room they passed, remembering the incompetence of professors he met so far, Cedric found himself counting way beyond ten. To make matters worse, Professor Art doesn’t seem to be anywhere near done being a hypocritical idiot. It hasn’t even been two days since class started, not to mention that he has only met Matt twice. However, at the back of his mind, going over Matt’s peculiar behavior earlier, Cedric found himself wondering if anything happened when the professor called Matt out.

“Here’s the clinic,” Professor Art said, giving Cedric a curt nod of dismissal.

“Wait—um… Professor Art,” Cedric mumbled in a hurry.

“What?” the professor asked.

“Don’t judge him,” Cedric blurted out without meaning to, losing the words he craftily thought of upon seeing the border of resentment and disappointment in the professor’s eyes.

Contrary to his expectations, the professor continued unwaveringly.

“I wouldn’t go around asking people not to judge others when I can’t even properly attend my own classes,” the professor replied nonchalantly and walked away.

 So he knew I was just skipping class after all, that nasty professor, Cedric thought, realizing that he was deliberately approached just to be asked that question. Biting his lip in a smirk to prevent all the wrong word from leaking out, Cedric watched the professor walk away with contemptuous eyes. The phantom of staples began to tease him again and before he realized it, he passed the clinic and was out the gates, not knowing he would have been so much better off staying inside.