Born of Death (Editing)

5. Pretend Date

They couldn't help it. He looked like one of those boring types. You know. The kind who lived life monotonously in shades of grey. Kinda like her. Ugh. Damn that was depressing. He became a blur of browns, beiges and white as he hurried towards his desk. Hearing the no nonsense tone leap from his mouth, she knew this guy wasn't a push over. Unlike her.

"Miss Cutteridge do you mind joining the rest of the class?" Eh? Embarrassed, she sank further into her chair. Why did she to zone out?
"I'm fine Mister...ah...ah," she flushed, realizing she didn't know his name.
"Kenward."
"Mister Kenward," she repeated.
"Miss, Cutteridge, please remove your cap while in this classroom."
B-but she didn't want anyone staring at how freakishly long her hair was.

Who knew teachers would have a personal vendetta against their students? Forcing their will upon them, while giving off a self-satisfied smile. Wouldn't it be great if she could rip their face-off; so much for individuality. Ugh. She reached up to pull her cap off as she did her finger got caught in the band she was wearing and her hair fell from under it. Shooting daggers at the professor, she tried to bundle it up, but it was simply too much. Great. She was going to be called curtain girl.

Majority of the class openly stared and she started to twitch while her inner monster began to rear its ugly head. What was he so happy about? What could he gain from her misery? She was right! They were out to get her! Giving up on trying to bring order to her hair, she reached into her backpack for a pen only for her hand to crash into something soft and plush.

Lolita? How did she get in there? She didn't recall placing the plush toy into her backpack. Ignoring the stares her classmates, she set her eyes forward and waited for the lesson to continue. Today was going to be a looong day.

Hearing the bell ring, she became a whirlwind of movements obliterating all who stood in her path in her haste to get out of there. She paused, in her path stood an elemental—a bender of air who halted her path of destruction. What did the professor want now?

Do you revel in darkness?

Come again? Weirdo much? Why would he say such a thing? Did he even say anything? Maybe she was hallucinating.

Confounded at the strange words echoing in her mind, she shook her head trying to dispel them. Her eyes leaped toward the clock on the wall. Crap! She was going to be late! Must be something in the water.

Once again, she found herself the source for unsuspecting eyes.  She was starting to think there was a sign that everyone else could see that she could not. Art was her next class and she gladly took a seat. Being advanced, she enjoyed the luxury of moving at her own pace while immersing herself in lulling waves and her art. Her eyes slid over to the seat next to her. Um, this was new. Someone was sitting next to her.

"I'm Ayumi, but you can call me Yu for short," she said, smiling.

Okaay? Someone was talking to her? Her eyes darted around, maybe she got the wrong person. This had to be a joke. The heavens did not open up and there was no fancy brief case at a designated drop off point filled with cash waiting to be picked up. Soon an awkward silence ensued and a short frown wormed its way across her face.

"You don't want to be my friend?" she asked, hurt in her voice. Odd. She was bothered by the pain in her voice and she wanted to erase the frown from her face. Who was this chick?

"No. It's not that. Do you know that talking to me is basically like social suicide?"
"Who cares what they say?" she said, rolling her eyes and grinning widely at her.

For the first time in the history Rosalinda Cutteridge had a friend. She was pleased, a bit skeptical, but pleased nonetheless. While talking to her new friend for the remainder of art class, she soon discovered they had gym and their last study block together. Her day was looking brighter. Maybe this school year wouldn't be an epic failure.