Secrets from Beneath

Chapter 7 & 8

"What's with the book?" I asked.

He picked up the blue book in his lap,

"Oh, its nothing," he said,

 He flipped it around and opened it, flicking through the pages. Maybe it was a journal of some sort. I didn't ask whether or not it was or any questions regarding it. I'm sure he wouldn't want to reveal its contents.

"Well, apart from me" I said, steering the conversation back in its previous direction, "Have you met anyone else?"

I was hoping he would reply with a no so I was relieved when he started to shake his head.

"Why?" he began, "Are there people you think I should meet?"

"More like avoid," I said, not realising how cynical I sounded.

"Like who?" he asked. I didn't expect him to dwell on my statement but he seemed intrigued.

"Well," I said, "There's a lot of people."

I started to think of the different groups that made up the social hierarchy of Cyprus Hill. The typical students who occupied the top and the bottom and the others who dwelled somewhere in between.

"Let's take a walk," I said, deciding that it would be best for him to see these groups for himself.

He stood up immediately and I did the same.

"Where to?" he asked. His blue eyes curious and his lips turning upright into a dazzling grin.

"North," I said, turning to the entrance of the corridor.

We walked, side by side, down the hallway. Past feelings of abhorrence and hatred, slowly residing as curiosity and intrigue for the boy beside me clouded my thoughts. His countenance, his frame, his enigmatic nature. Where did he come from, why was he here? How was it that after knowing him for a little over twenty-four hours he already filled me with such euphoria. I took a step closer towards him, just being in his company made my mood brighten.

I led the way and turned left into the next corridor, moving along until I found a classroom. The door was ajar and faint music could be heard coming from inside, as well as the sound of low laughter.

I pointed to the room.

"Rosa, Luke, Jaz and Wyatt," I said.

He stared, waiting for me to continue.

"They sit here every lunch break, playing classical music and writing poetry," I explained,

"Poetry," He repeated.

I nodded. Yes it was true, poetry. I didn't know how or why they did it, but the four of them would spend all of their free time listening to and playing Beethoven and Mozart and reciting the works of John Keats and Percy Bysshe Shelley. They believed that music nowadays was just generic rubbish and that the only true talent that came from this world came from those who walked the earth hundreds of years before us. Of course, everyone thought they were weird, unusual, they often kept to themselves and remained aloof.

"So I should avoid them," he said turning to me.

"No, not really. I mean they're okay, I guess. They just keep to themselves a lot," I said.

I backed away from the classroom, indicating that we should press on.

We continued to roam up and down the corridors, through the cafeteria and the gymnasium, taking a pit stop at the library before proceeding to the courtyard, all the while explaining and describing to Kai the who and who-nots that made up Cyprus Hill.