Memory

Chapter Three- Trystan

With silent steps, I walk out the house after a glance at my passed-out aunt draped on the black leather couch, closing the door behind me quietly, making my way to school with half my mind thinking unknowingly about Dimitri.

By the time I reach school, it is eight ten a.m. My first period class is English Literature, with that one annoying teacher, Ms. Jade. Well, all my teachers are annoying. Her voice is like those white country girls you'd see in a western movie, and she looks like one too; what with her curly blonde hair and green eyes with glasses.

I run up the stairs of City College, mentally grimacing at what Ms. Jade's reaction would be if she wasn't Treated; angry and even more annoying. My heavy footsteps clabber against the stone steps, and once I reach the fourth floor, the bell rings, indicating that first period officially started. I lift my phone out my pocket a bit to see the time; eight fifteen. Damn.

I walk down the hallway once I push my way through the doors. Silence greets me, and for a second I feel somewhat frightened, as if every single teacher and student will jump at me.

Doors open behind me, and I glance back as I see Dimitri walk down in my direction. I am surprised at his appearance; his hands are in fists, his gaze his downcast, and even from feet away, I can see that his breathing is heavy, almost angry.

What happened to him?

He looks up as he passes me, and sudden emotions swirl in his bright green hues when his eyes rest on me fully. I am completely taken aback.

To think he wasn't a Recaller was stupid of me.

"Trystan," says Dimitri. His tone is soft, though I can hear an undercurrent of pain, fear, and anger. "You're late for class."

I nod at him, blinking as I flick my gaze from him to down the hall. "What class do you have?" I ask him.

"English Lit."

"Ah, so do I."

I can see a ghost of a smile rising from his lips. "Cool."

Within a matter of seconds, we reach our first period class to the left of us. I open the door gently.

"...is the day this man died, sadly. But we all must know who he was for his poems," Ms. Jade is saying as we enter. She waves a marker in her hand as she talks, pointing to a word-filled whiteboard. Her handwriting is unintelligible, I swear. I don't get how others could copy down notes enough to get credit for classwork. "Shakespeare, as well. He has had many-- oh, Trystan and Dimitri. You're late. Come in and find a seat, and try to listen in on today's lesson."

I stifle a sigh as I scan the class quickly before sinking into a seat in the back row. The reddish brown head of Lena is not present; dammit. Well, she lives in my neighborhood. I can just pay her a visit after-school.

Conveniently, there is a seat empty beside me, and that's where Dimitri settles himself quietly. Ugh.

Occasionally, I sneak glances at him as I take out my English notebook. He suddenly notices and keeps his eyes on me, not moving a single muscle in his face.

I swallow nervously. Maybe he found out I am not Treated?

He then looks down; he rips out a piece of his notebook paper and starts to write on it. Once he's done, he slips the paper over to me, nodding to me as a signal to read it.

We need to talk seriously, Trystan.

I blink in surprise, furrowing my brow. Taking a pen from my bag, I write back, and pass the paper back to him.

I did nothing wrong, Dimitri. I have no idea what you're talking about.

He frowns, and I think I see a hint of a smirk. Hm, that's strange. Especially for him. He doesn't seem the type to normally smile a lot. Glancing back to the teacher, I make sure that she thinks nothing is going on. She's still rambling on, though I've tuned her out completely to even understand what she's talking about.