Nine: Trust †

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Bouncing through my Psychology building the following day, I held the note in my hands.

It was actually from Mr. Gellar which I found exceedingly odd. Another thing that just dawned on me was that he was Mr. Gellar and not Professor Gellar.

I knocked on the pane next to the open door and Mr. Gellar turned his head to me. "Ah, Tiegan, I was wondering when you'd come. I figure you'd come when you had a free and thankfully, I have one at the same time. Do come in." He gestured to the space opposite his desk.

My emotions suddenly malformed and I timidly ambled in front of Mr. Gellar. He sighed and picked up my notes I did the previous lesson for the project and turned it so I was able to read it. But I didn't know what I was meant to be reading seeing as I had already written it once.

"I've only just noticed what you did for the age and I figured it's someone in this year," Mr. Gellar began. "I just want you to to be careful if it really is someone in our year. Information will stay in this room that you present, but I can't vouch for the mouths in this room. Things will get out, Tiegan. Just make sure what you're presenting are things you wouldn't want everyone to know about you, okay? I just want to make sure nothing dire happens. I've had someone expose someone else in this school and things didn't work out for the exposer and I don't want things to repeat itself."

I nodded, letting the words leave indentation son my body, the disfigurements to remind me later in the year when I actually come to present this project. I needed the wounds there to be reminiscent of this discussion and when it finished, I could still feel the stinging when I stumbled out of the room.

Making my way back to the room, I managed to witness Jason practicing on the field for soccer. Someone was in goal and he was shooting all these balls at him, only a fraction of them was being stopped by the goalie. But when Jason had finished, a triumphant grin was plastered on his face and he suddenly looked up to the side. And his eyes landed on me.

He beckoned me over. I obliged.

I made my way onto the field, hoping not to fall over and mortify myself in front of Jason. He was simply the most gorgeous human being in the world and the way his eyes held that sunlight perfectly, reflecting his own happiness onto someone else. The way his eyes brightened up was somewhat of a pleasure to me and I wanted to be the only one who could make them lighten up.

"Hey," Jason spoke. "Fancy seeing you here out by the track – free period, too?"

I nodded. "Yeah, I just had to speak to one of my teachers."

"Is that what the note in your hand was for?" He gesticulates indolently to my right hand.

I comprehended I was clutching the note too hard, my hands clammy. I instantly loosened my grip and the note nearly fell out of my hands. Instead, I seized it stiffly again and stuffed it in my pocket, and nodded to Jason, keeping my mouth clamp shut.

"Are you alright? You seem tense. You should get a massage." Jason's eyes twinkled with improper elation. "Turn around."

Before I could even abide by his enjoin, he reached out his hands and grasped the top of my arms and gently turning me around. I was only short with a small frame so it didn't take much effort to turn me and Jason managed to do it so tenderly. And I didn't even get chance to turn back around in intricacy before his hands were already working wonders on my shoulders.

"Do you do this with Lea?" I asked, trying to keep my voice normal but instead, trepidation was engulfing me into oblivion.

"No, she hates this," he replied, applying more pressure on the knots in my shoulders.

A noise erupted in my throat like a gurgle and it was extremely repellent. Jason stopped the massage almost instantaneously and laughed. I turned around to see him throw his head back, giving me such a spectacular view of his nostrils. Sense the tone.

"Well, I have never gotten that response from a girl who I've given massages to. She has always complimented them exquisitely."

There was a small smile on my face but that had vanished from his words.

He's given other girls massages over the years so maybe that was a famous trick to get them to fall for him. He's a ladies-man and he doesn't even deny it; he knows it. He knows what works on girls and he knows what they like.

"Well, I need to go. I have English next and later on tonight, I have soccer." I have long-distance running tonight. Damn.

"What sort of English do you do?" I enquired, walking slowly with him to the edge of the goalpost to collect his water.

"I do creative writing," he replied. "Not many people know that so I'd prefer to keep that on the down low." An American man who likes to write, I like it.

"I just like how people write down their emotions and other people can interpret them in diverse ways. I feel like you can be so vague and there will always be someone to understand how you're feeling because they know you and they know what you're like and they know how to dissect that information."

We were already walking back to the changing rooms where we were now, stood immobile. "Lea knows you do creative writing, right?"

He nodded quickly as if it was obvious, "Of course." But then he sighed. "At first when I told her – since we went to the same high school – she was so against it. She said that if I took creative writing she'd go to another college. I didn't know if she was serious at the time or not so I took the class. And I got accepted and when she found out, she was angry."

"She didn't accept your choice?"

Jason shrugged. He turned his head to the side to gaze off into the view and with the sun blaring down at us in that direction, Jason squinted so the corner of his nose rose up. "Basically, yes but it took a month or so and she came around. I just didn't understand how she could do that."

"What classes does she take?" I questioned, popping my left hip subtly and bending my right knee to relax.

"She takes arts and crafts and design and technology. She's more of a creative girl and practical girl while I'm the sportsman. I accepted her classes and I would have thought she'd done the same to me. I mean, I took the most cliché class of all: soccer. Maybe that would have cancelled it all out."

"She was embarrassed to have her boyfriend do creative writing in college," I finalised. "I see now." I left a deliberate pause when Jason didn't even respond – not even by a simple nod of the head. "Did you really want to be with her though if she didn't want you to pursue something?"

Jason shrugged languidly. "I don't know. I'm still trying to figure anything out. But look, I really have to get going now because I need to shower as well so I'll catch you later."


Jason submerged into the changing rooms and I caught a glimpse of the lockers in the corner, graffiti obscuring the silver colour with the abhorrent sketches with minimal detail except for the vulgar parts of the sketches and by that, it's evident what the sketches were of.

I dashed back to my room as quickly as I could, ignoring the guy I accidentally stumbled into and instead, knocked him out of the way and carried up racing up the stairs as if I was running the home straight on the track. The endurance was still going and it was paying off right now.

When I got back to my room, I hastily pulled out my notepad and jotted down things that Jason had announced to me in some sort of confidence; maybe he trusted me or maybe it all came out before he could stop himself. I didn't know what to think at the moment and when Johanna opened the door, I stuffed the notepad back into my cupboard.

"Oh, hi," I said, breathless as she plonked down on the bed.

Author's Note:

Did you guys think the note would be from Mr. Gellar or Jason? ;) And Jason has confessed he likes creative writing AND he gave Tiegan a massage!!!!! Things are beginning to heat up around here, right? ;) If you enjoyed, please do vote and leave a comment. I would love to know what you guys think of this story so far.

Thank you :) x

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