I HEAR YOU

XI: CALVIN

“Why aren’t you in the office yet?,” Dan appeared in the doorway of our classroom.

“Where have you been Daniel?,” I asked him in return without breaking my focus on the new set of eyes I’m working on.

It’s a lie.

It isn’t really a new set of eyes. I’ve been drawing her eyes since I left Alcantara. Even if I tried so much to forget her and I tried so much to hate her. It doesn’t go away. I had to have something to burn. I had to draw her eyes so I could burn it.

I grabbed the lighter I always keep in the little compartment of my bag. I walked towards the trash bin and burned the paper there.

“I’m just glad our building were not built with smoke sensors or you’ll end up in the lock up,” Dan shrugged before sitting down. “And you should treat me to dinner for not telling anyone about your ritual,” he added.

I glared at him. He meant it as a joke and I never took it as an insult before, just that I’m not in a good mood today.

“Hey! Why do you look so mean?,” he pouted like a child and I rolled my eyes at his childishness.

I sat back on the chair and stared at the barren field behind the campus.

“Rhea will throw a fit if she gets there and you’re not there you know,” Dan exclaimed.

“Where were you?,” I asked him. “You weren’t there when I got there,” I added.

“Aww,” he replied. “You were waiting for me?,” he added with a childish tone.

“No,” I answered bluntly.

“You could have just pretended and said ‘yes’. No need to hurt my feelings,” he scowled.

“So?,” I raised my eyebrow, now looking at him.

He smiled. He looked guilty.

“I was trying to get a hold of Gabby,” he reasoned.

“And?,” I urged him to go further.

“I waited for her with the dance troupe,” he added.

“And then?,” I urged again.

“She didn’t come 30 minutes later,” he nodded.

“Because?,” I’m playing with him now but he’s always too dense to know if he’s being played at.

“Because he was with Sofia!,” he yelled and moved his arms dramatically.

And that shut me up. I thought playing with him would make me feel better but hearing that name turned me into a sour lemon juice. He smiled apologetically. I couldn’t blame him. He doesn’t drink this kind of mood. I wouldn’t even drink myself if I turned into a juice.

“It’s your turn,” he challenged. “Why are you here?,” he added.

“Just here,” I answered.

“And?,” he countered.

“You don’t even look a bit convincing as a bad cop,” I retorted chuckling.

“Hey!,” he swatted an imaginary hand he must have been imagining pointing at him.

I laughed, slowly forgetting what I had to go through last night.

“Stop hurting my feelings!,” he added feigning fake hurt.

“You have feelings?,” I mocked him.