Memory

Chapter Three- Trystan

Then the note brushes against my forearm, and with a apprehensive breath, I look down and I read his response.

I think you and I both know what this is about. Trust me, I'm not blind.

He knows. Oh God, Dimitri knows I am a Recaller! Dammit, my so-called poker face had failed; he's seen through my disguise.

I look at him, though I am not surprised to see a flash of faint admiration and curiosity in his eyes before he jerks his chin towards the paper, indicating that he needs a response. I nod, and write back to him.

That we are both Recallers?

I await his response as he takes the paper to read my answer. His eyes scan the room quickly, and I see my own uncertainty reflected in those green pools of intensity. He then bends his head down to write.

Yes.

That one word just made my day. It lifts my heart at the truth of it; that I'm not the only Recaller here in City College. I crumple the paper quickly so I don't attract any attention from anyone. I then stuff it into my bookbag, and resume my work with a soft smile on my lips.

The rest of English Literature goes by quickly, smoothly enough to let me catch up with some missing notes I forgot to take. Once class is over, the two other ones I have- Algebra and Physical Education- before lunch seem to be with Dimitri. He sat next to me in Algebra as well; I'm beginning to think that this guy is taking an interest in me. But that's ridiculous; we barely know each other.

Nevermind that. But the fact that he is a Recaller makes me want to hug him, although we have just met.

We go downstairs to the first floor, deciding if we'll eat school food or outside food.

"Let's get something from outside," says Dimitri, zippering up his black leather jacket. "We need the fresh air. And school food is disgusting," he added, sticking out his tongue playfully.

I giggle softly, and he seems to smile at the sound of it. "Alright," I say, nudging his arm with my hand. "Let's go."

We make our way outside the school, talking about what we thought about the school, our neighbors, everything. I am almost giddy with happiness to be able to talk like this outside of school. As we round the corner of this street, we come across a deli grocery. I nudge Dimitri, and walk into it.

When we come back out, both of us have a black bag each filled a steaming hot sandwich and a bottle of water

Unwrapping the aluminum foil from my delicious-smelling sandwich, I glance at Dimitri. His gaze is set forward, and his square jaw works lightly as he chews his food. I look down at my own sandwich, and take a bite into it. Rich, meaty flavours from the bacon flood my mouth, and I smile privately, as though I haven't tasted anything this good before. Besides my aunt's cooking, technically I haven't.

Many bites and strides later, Dimitri and I are rounding the corner of the school's main campus site. But as the school come into view, so does the blaring sirens come into earshot, accompanied with the numerous police cars.

Dimitri has stopped beside me, his arm brushing against mine. But as he sees the police, I can feel his muscled arms stiffen with anger and fear.

"Dimitri," I say, looking up at him. A muscle in his jaw twitched, and he barely glances down at me when he answers.

"Yes, Trystan?"

My right ear flicks at the sound of faint, though gruff voices ring out from the cars. "What happened?" I stare at the building, trying to see a way in without being seen.

"Probably something minor." His breathing quickens, though he doesn't express his feelings even now. With swift movement, he walks up to a nearby garbage can and throws out his stuff, probably not even finishing his sandwich. I do the same, thinking what he's possibly thinking; if we're seen with something from outside, the school officials will probably get angry with us.

He comes to stand beside me, putting a hand gently on my upper arm. "Let's go." He walks quickly, with no breaks in his stride, and I follow him, making sure to scan the area before looking forward.

The white-clad policemen do not notice us, not even after we slip out behind the school building, across the green lawn, where the back exit is. They stay milling around front the steps of the school, and their delay helps calm me for a bit.

Dimitri pulls out a jumbo paper clip from his lime-green t-shirt pocket, bending it so it looks like a 'S'. Jabbing it into the keyhole of the exit door, he juts his head towards the corner of the back of the school. "Look out for any police," he mutters, and turns back to his clicking and pushing.

I frown, and press myself against the wall as I hear for any quick, labored footsteps. None come, and when I hear a loud click, I know that Dimitri's pick-locking has been a success.

"Come on!" Dimitri waves his hand towards me, holding open the door.

I rush into the school, and Dimitri follows close behind me, so close that I can almost feel his warm, soft breath on my neck.

The main, first-floor hallway is quiet, even the security guards that sat in the middle of it by a desk are gone. At the end of the hall are white double doors leading up the staircase. Dimitri brushes past me with a glance behind us. He pushes the doors and lets me through first. Even in our hurried and panicky state, he's still a gentleman. And a handsome one at that.

We pound up the stone steps, and once we reach the fourth floor, the sound of the gruff voices drift towards me once again.

They must have reached up here from the time we were still outside the exit.

But Dimitri didn't hear them. I open my mouth to warn him, but the words that meant to come are too late. His hand grips the door handle and opens it, slipping into full view of our possible pursuers.

And I have no choice but to follow him.