Firestorm

[1] Daydream

And Rarilee completely zoned out.  

The week felt as though it had extended for centuries, because once Rarilee seated herself down on an art stool and dumped her supplies on the desk, she welcomed a yawn and hung her head low. If only a strike of energy could awaken her soul right now, because she was honestly so exhausted that remaining alert for her next class was becoming an impossibly big ask.

It wasn't her fault that the night was her favourite time of day. Its consoling silence and mysteries ignited her with an indescribable surge of inspiration. In fact, the number of art assignments she had triumphantly completed during the hours others utilised to sleep was astonishing.

"Sorry I'm late. Please open your textbooks to page a hundred and nine."

The Bowling Ball heaved an overrated sigh, as he stumbled his way from the door-frame to his desk. Perhaps if he idolised the achievements of her best friend Lani and lost a few calories that were obviously dragging him down, he would reach his destination much faster. Not that Rarilee was complaining, of course.

His rounded body eventually sat onto the swivel chair, as the class muffled mindless chatter whilst browsing for the page. It was hard to believe that The Bowling Ball was still oblivious to the reason why Rarilee and Lani would refer to him as an equipment for entertainment behind his back, because it was seriously so obvious. His body was perfectly spherical and weighty, not to mention the three dark holes punched into his thick skin: his pair of beady eyes, and the death-trap of his mouth.

Nothing good came from any of the dark holes, and on rare occasions, the teen would even have the urge to poke his holes just to stop his monotonous lectures and his death stares for once.

Instead of listening to the continuous information gushing out of the teacher's death-trap of a mouth, Rarilee slid a pencil between her fingers, and began doodling on the side of the textbook.

She predicted a heavy thunderstorm within the next few hours due to the blanket of grey clouds huddled close together like a hyped soccer team before the second half of the match. Giving the miserable landscape a final glance, she put her head down and sketched short, precise strokes.

If you give it some thought, doodling was such a weird concept. How do you even begin to explain how the art of sketching originated? Did they simply pick up some lead, shove it in a piece of wood or plastic, and scratch it against whatever surface they could find until something trailed out?

But nevertheless, it was her most effective therapy for relaxation and motivation, and after a minute or so, a realistic drawing of the view outside the classroom window was depicted on the page.

"Ree, that's sick." The girl sitting beside her whispered, her eyes shifting from The Bowling Ball at the front of the room to her best friend with the amazing artistic ability. Due to her parents' inability to escape the nineteen-hundreds realm and their selfless personalities, Rarilee found it rather challenging to understand if Lani were actually disgusted by her drawing, or how to accept the compliment if it was slang she was using.

So instead, she lifted her head up briefly and flashed a sheepish, appreciative grin to Lani, before experimenting with sfumato to blend the foreground sketch into the background.

The attention to detail she provided to the sketch was enough to build a mental barrier between the buzz of reality and her hypnotising fantasies. The fact that she was supposed to be engaged in a class discussion or taking notes for future reference had completely flown out of her mind.

That is, of course, before The Bowling Ball cleared his throat and addressed her personally, "Tolonez."

"Pardon?" She responded absent-mindedly, flicking the pencil away from her grasp as if she were paying attention all along. Frantically, her eyes scanned the context of page a hundred and nine in the hopes of gaining some knowledge The Bowling Ball was bound to quiz her on. "I know you're dreaming about being born a thousand years ago so you didn't have to learn Art History, but I'm glad to see you awake."

As usual, her peers shook their heads, disappointment etched onto their faces. The Bowling Bowl had a tendency to crack up cheesy teacher jokes in an attempt of becoming well liked, but boy, was he in for a shock if someone decided to tell him the truth.

"Now that you're with us, do you have anything to add to the analysis Wallton has kindly volunteered to begin?" There was a hint of sarcasm in his tone that Rarilee didn't necessarily pick up on, but she followed his eyes until hers landed on a boy standing underneath the threshold. Rarilee never paid much attention to her peers, which was why there was no surprise when she doesn't recognise him.

But no matter what she did, she couldn't seem to take her eyes off of him.

There was so much mystery and secrecy held within the pupils of his captivating pair of hazel eyes. Perhaps it was due to the heat of the afternoon, but his light brown quiff seemed to be styled in a manner that appeared strange to her. His shoulders shivered at the sudden drawn of attention, and before she knew it, Rarilee was gazing at his baggy pair of jeans and the way they effortlessly showcased the band of his underwear...

Of course, Rarilee's daydream occurred within a mere second, but it was enough for 'Wallton' to uncomfortably scratch the back of his neck and mutter just loudly enough for everyone to hear, "Uh, how do I say this? Um, areyoustaringatmycrotch?"

A few students snickered under their desks, but before long, the entire class was openly roaring with laughter. Even though The Bowling Ball never even showed a glimpse of a smile, his eyes were glimmering in a way she had never observed before.

And it only linked up to one logical reason - he was suppressing his amusement.

Rarilee craved for this moment to be some twisted nightmare. She was humiliated! From the student no one had ever acknowledged, to the laughing stock of the class. What's next, will word spread around that Rarilee was now a thirsty slut for unintentionally staring at the crotch of a fellow classmate? Will people avoid her even more than they already do?

Slumping down into the stool, she tried to cover the ruddiness of her cheeks with her dark hair. Miraculously, she even managed to whisper an apology, "Oh shivers. I sincerely apologise Mr Magaismin and-"

The loud ping of her flip phone was the next level of embarrassment, cutting her apology short. She had fooled herself to believe that her phone was on silent, but the text message she received was a clear indication that it was not.

"Oh, please!" Lani yelled over the commotion, stepping onto the desk with the addition of unnecessary hand gestures, "Girls, don't tell me you've never found yourself staring at your bae's little ass, and boys, don't tell me you've never stared at your homegirl's big tits! Don't fucking lie to me because I know that's all you want in a partner, desperate ass people. What the fuck is love these days?"

Utilising the risen opportunity that had left some students awkwardly fidgeting with their heads down, and the teacher to commence his lecture about damaging school property and swearing, Rarilee pulled out the device in her pocket discreetly, and checked to see who had messaged her at this time of day.

As soon as she identified the sender, it felt as though her heart had sunk into an endless pool of horror. She didn't think she had ever felt so anxious in her life. The sender never contacted Rarilee during school hours unless it was an absolute emergency that couldn't wait even for a second. She felt her own face grow paler, her own hands clammier, and her own heart friskier.

She had to read and reply to Cordelia, no matter what the risk.

-♡-

Fun fact: Rarilee is pronounced Rare-ree-lee and Lani is pronounced Lah-nee :')

Hello my darlings! Bare with me as I go through my character development stage: it won't be long before the plot really begins! I give chapter dedications to active readers who add my book to their reading lists/libraries, give votes and comment feedback as a way of showing my gratitude and appreciation!

Question: What's your preferred name? (A nickname is fine if ever you feel uncomfortable with revealing your name on the Internet!)

-Nance xo