Becoming Beautiful (Wattys2014)

| Chapter 3 |

About twenty five minutes into class, he finally closed his book, staring at the cover of it for a few minutes. I didn’t recognize the book’s cover and it was too far for me to read the words on it. A few minutes later, he opened the book to the last page and read it again. He then closed it before placing it in his bag, which had a few other books in it. He grabbed another book and took it out, opening it to the first page. I gaped at him before glancing between the teacher and him.

“Is there a problem, Ms. West?” Mrs. Walters asked, halting her mini lesson on common grammatical errors. She decided to point it out seeing as we often make the mistake ourselves.  

Yes, ma’am, you’re being extremely unfair. He can get lost in a world of fictional characters while I’m stuck listening to your boring lectures, surrounded by idiots who aren’t even paying attention. “No, ma’am.”

“Good, now would you like to pay attention and stop staring at other students?” she asked.

Because I was the only person in the second row and Noah was the only student in the first row, she’d technically given me away. I shrunk lower in my chair as people snickered behind me. Thanks a lot, Mrs. W. I’ll remember this when I graduate next year. You’ll get a special dedication as I walk off of the stage and it’s known as the one finger salute.

<<>><<>> 

When I reached lunch, a weight was lifted off of my shoulders. I’d endured 5 of my classes already. I have my two easy classes after this; study hall and art. Although I’m nothing close to an artist, I still find the class easy because Mr. Komodo is a very kind teacher when it comes to grading. Especially when you try, and I try very hard. After getting my lunch, I plopped down in my seat- my legs outstretched under the small café like table and placed atop of the opposite chair. My bag was beside me, resting on the floor.

I sighed when I looked around, already bummed out. I couldn’t help but glance over at Noah’s table, where he was casually reading. He read quickly, that was one thing I noticed while staring at him. He also furrows his eyebrows when he’s concentrating. Deciding I might as well feed my brain too, I pulled my reading glasses and a book from my bag and began reading, my eyes skimming the pages as I flipped them occasionally.

“You two are way too much alike, you know?” My head snapped up at the sound of Marissa’s voice. I looked up, slightly disoriented from being pulled back into the real world. I turned to my left and saw Noah looking up around the empty cafeteria. He made no attempt at getting up quickly and instead, slowly closed his book bag, using his thumb as a page holder. He got up and walked towards the stairway doors, pushing through them and disappearing behind the large wooden separators.

“Why is he so mean?” I absentmindedly muttered as I stood up and stretched, allowing my limbs to extend further than they are meant to. I wonder if I should consult my physician about my stretches. They’re pretty metal.

“He has a… rough past," she muttered, earning my attention. She sighed. “I’d tell you but it’s not my business, okay?”

I nodded understandingly. He probably was friendless in middle school. I doubt he’s carrying much baggage; he’s only about 17. I’m not quick to judge though; I usually see the good in people despite how their demeanors are. But I can’t help but struggle to find something good in Noah, aside from his appealing appearance. Maybe it’s the books he reads? Or the fact that he’s a guy reading in general? This piqued my curiosity even more and I sighed, knowing that eventually I’d have to get to the bottom of this, whether I (or Noah) like it or not.

<<>><<>> 

When I got home, I saw suitcases by the door. I sighed; knowing the speech my mother is going to give me in approximately ten minutes. I practically know the speech by heart after this many years of hearing it. “Mom!”