Playing The Part

ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝟙:

Devonne:

As the rain patters against the window and the is hidden in the clouds, my mind starts wandering to a million other things I'd rather be doing right now. Sitting in the room labeled

  P R I N C I P A L ' S O F F I C E 

was definitely not on my agenda today.

My original plan? Break her face, wash the blood off my hands, and leave.

Unfortunately, I got caught before I even made it to the "leave" part.

So now I'm stuck in this uncomfortable blue chair with the stiff armrests, and next to me sits an annoyingly attractive boy — the same boy who somehow got me out of the majority of the trouble I should've been in. Long story short, he's a total suck-up... or at least that's the story I'm sticking to.

For some reason, he decided to stop me when he caught me mid-swing. Emphasis on tried. All he managed to do was get his butt kicked too.

I sigh and glance over at him. "Boy" doesn't really fit. He looks more like a man sculpted by light and shadow themselves, if that makes sense. His jawline is sharper than a valedictorian's future. His eyes are brown, but not the dirt kind, the pretty kind. He is pretty. Not that I'd ever say that out loud.

If you stared too long, you could get lost in the hazel-brown swirl that looked like it was calculating everything about me.

As I studied him, I could tell he was doing the same to me. After a few too many seconds of silence, I finally break it.

"Why did you stop me?"

He shrugs. "Her face was so messed up she'll probably need plastic surgery to fix it."

I cringe, remembering  my 'handiwork'. "Touché."

Okay, let me explain.

I'm not usually  violent. But she gave me an F on a project I spent a week on. Stupid TA. If she hadn't called home crying to "poor Daddy" that I was on the verge of failing, she would've stayed untouched. Then I skipped class yesterday for something important, and she tried to claim I had too many absences.

So yeah... she got what she deserved.

 I guess those boxing classes finally paid off.

My wandering thoughts are interrupted when my aunt storms into the room, fresh from talking to the principal.

"ATHENA, YOU BEAT UP A TEACHER?! WHAT IS GOING THROUGH YOUR THICK SKULL?!" She punctuates her scream with a poke to the side of my head. "OH, JUST WAIT UNTIL WE GET HOME! YOUR UNCLE IS GONNA LET YOU HAVE IT! GO GET YOUR ASS IN THE CAR!"

I push out a long, irritated breath and stand, giving the guy next to me one last look. Just before the door shuts, I turn around and give my dean my favorite finger before heading out with my 'aunt'.

The camera follows and immediately the director yells:

"Cut!"

We break character instantly, bursting into laughter. We're finally done for the day.

"I think that was one of your better performances, honestly, River."
Amber's laughter trails behind her as she disappears into her dressing room, her voice still warm in the air she leaves behind.

I'm about to follow when I feel it, eyes on me.
The kind that linger, not out of rudeness, but recognition.

Across the space, the man from the scene stands half in shadow, half in light, as if even the set can't decide where to place him. Something about the quiet stillness around him pulls at me, like a thread I didn't know was loose.