Chapter 19: Texting and Calling and Numbers

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I pulled out my books from my new locker, trying to get to my science textbook was no easy task because I had a habit of laying my books out horizontally in piles rather than upright. I fished out my book and put the rest back, stuffing it into my bag and slinging it over my shoulder.

It was just then I got a text. I felt the vibration in my pocket and immediately suspected Atlas, or perhaps the girl that had his phone, but no, it was my mother.

I opened my phone to look at the text.

[ M o m ]
Good /to. know. Stay focused.

I raised an eyebrow, not sure what that meant. When I flicked through our messages I realised that the last text I sent her was from last, last Sunday.

[M e]
got a good mark. when are you getting back? or when is dad?

It stung a little knowing that she not only replied so late but that her reply could barely be defined as one. It was fine, I wasn't bothered... well, I was a little bothered, though I wasn't sure why exactly there was something annoying about the distance in my family.

Ultimately, it didn't matter, but it was these weird interactions with my parents like this that made me want to return to the skate park, straight up just skip school and go there. It didn't matter to me if it was empty, or raining or late at night... I just liked it there, I'd roll around a bit and work on some tricks, sit about and stare at the concrete floor. I just didn't want to be at school and I didn't want to be at home.

My eyes flickered in the direction of the school gate, visible through the doorway, but before I could imagine leaving Jacob stepped into my view.

"Let's go, and turn your phone off before we enter class."

I nodded halfheartedly but simply put my phone back in my bag. I could see Jacob's curious glace from the corner of my eye.

We made it to class early despite the detour and I sat beside him in the front row.

I felt distracted for some reason. I turned around to look at the other students and saw Angela sharing a table with Atlas a few tables away from me. When I looked she met my gaze and looked away, her expression sour. I frowned and turned back to the front.

The teacher was saying something about 'Bunsen burners' and 'write it down, write it down' but I wasn't really listening. Annoyingly enough science actually required you to have done this work properly for the ultimate grading. That bothered me because working hard on one day was much easier than paying attention every day.

I didn't usually pair up with anyone, I never really paid much attention to the people around me in my old class. It was hard to find friends in this school, they were nice but they never really stuck around, somehow I had a habit of falling behind in a group or just sliding out of their zone of visibility. It didn't matter, though, because pairing up was bloody annoying.

In this case though, I was paired with someone who was apparently willing to do everything, pushy even. Which was great. The specifics of whatever the hell we were doing could be examined later in a textbook in the evening and I wouldn't have to pay attention to how many millilitres of something I was supposed to be pouring into something and heating up.

I zoned out as he worked, ignoring me as long as I didn't cause any chaos he didn't seem to mind.

He wrote out every step of what he was doing in his notepad and I resolved to take a picture and copy it out later. He had nice hand writing, curvy but not cursive, so still legible. He had long fingers too, wrote quickly and with little pause.

I rested my head on my hand as I watched him, he had a nice nose... what a weird thing to think... but true nonetheless. A nice nose and nice eyes, I didn't look at his eyes when he spoke to me, there was something sharp about them that made me feel insecure looking directly at them. A little like Atlas, but somehow completely different.

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