The Casanova's Class Clown

Chap. 37: Rebels And A Class Clown

REBELS AND A CLASS CLOWN...

Sakri examined the girl turning paler with each tick of the weird-looking wall clock's eyes clicking right and left like a swing.

Her hoodie was grey, something that would have easily denoted uncharacteristic of her when it came to fashion choice. Emma Anderson's files were filled with fashion complaints sent from the preps of the Social Studies Department during her freshman year. Her pink-dyed hair would have hinted at it being her from a distance, but then again, she could have just pulled the hood over her head and she was unrecognizable at far glance. She wasn't even wearing her signature yellow-lensed glasses, leaving her brown eyes visible under the morning light.

Sakri tried to be hospitable. "What in thunder are you doing in school!?" Well, at least he tried.

The girl cowered behind her seat, not even facing him. The tremble on her shoulders indicated she was scared. Figures. Sakri was never one for first impressions, and he deduced he wasn't going to be anytime soon.

Maybe he could lighten his tone a tad. That might get her to at least face him. "Well? You gonna answer or not? I thought Cardy told you to take the day off! How did none of my guys see you going out of that damn hospital!?" Again. At least he tried. "It's the hoodie isn't it? No one would've guessed you'd wear something unflashy."

Emma couldn't help but look up, not in a bout of courage or anything that heroic, but of curiosity. "Cardy?" She asked, unable to hide the tremor of her voice.

Sakri looked at her through his tinted shades. That's what gets her attention, huh? "Cardy." He nodded.

She tilted her head, a single cocked brow indicating thought. "Cardy..?" It was supposed to be a statement.

"Cardor Florence?" Sakri dismissed, slapping the air. "Ever heard of the third Heir? He's your batch mate."

And then her head shot up, recognition flashing in her face. "Oh! You mean Cardor! Who calls him Cardy? That's funny. I'd call him that if it didn't mean I'd be kicked out of school before I could deliver the punchline." She was spouting out words in her nervousness, but stopped when a smile actually curved the lips of the giant that loomed across the room. He wasn't as tall as Eli, but by the way he brought himself, the aura of power residing around him, it seemed off-putting to see him smile, almost as if there was something to be feared if his lips so much as raised from its frown. She felt the fear shot through her spine and instinctively hunched behind the back of her chair.

Sakri's smirk disappeared as soon as it came. She was acting like a cat. And enough time spent with a certain slacker girl got him fed up with that certain breed of mammal.

"So." He tried to keep his voice sound calm. It came out like a general spouting orders. "You gonna answer why you're here and not in the hospital like you were told?"

Emma dared a peek through the aperture designed on the back of the chair. She was still a bit scared at the stranger, but then again, he was asking her questions and not pouncing on her like a crazed serial killer. She raised her head just enough that her nose rested on top of the chair. "I thought that when he told me to stay hospitalized, it was just a friendly opinion. I didn't take it seriously."

Sakri contemplated. "I guess you were reported to not take anything much seriously."

Her back shot up as straight as a lance, her brows furrowed as though she was just insulted, her shoulders indicating she was about to say something defensive. "I do TO take anything seriously!" She caught herself. "I mean, I do take stuff seriously! Who said I didn't?"

It was protocol to keep the names of the SSD clandestine. "Oliver Samder." Sakri nonchalantly answered.

Emma took a sharp breath through her nose, brows shifting from a V to an upside-down V.