The next period pass by quickly, and lunch finds Jamie, Mitchell, Cole and I in the library, our backpacks hidden underneath us as we sneak in bites of our lunch as we study. Our librarian, an old German woman likes to lose her mind over things like food and drinks in her beloved library, but there's no way in hell I'm skipping a meal. I may not have been feeling myself lately but that doesn't mean I'm willing to give up food.
Jamie is stressing over the test- she stresses over everything- while Cole just tries to understand the basic concepts he never got a grasp on in class (which basically means he slept through lessons). Mitchell mostly just leans back and laughs at us since he doesn't have chemistry.
With five minutes left of lunch, we begin to pack up. As we do, I hear Mitchell's voice ask me, "I'm guessing you know your stuff, huh?"
I turn to him, furrowing my eyebrows. "Hm?"
"You didn't study," he murmurs unsurely. He seems confused, and if there's on thing I know about Mitchell is that he doesn't like to be confused.
"Oh," I mutter. "Is it bad if I said I don't really care at this point?"
Mitchell gains back his confident demeanour at my reply and laughs wholeheartedly, "Of course not, it's basically the story of my life." Mitchell shoulder bumps me, "Good luck."
He walks ahead to meet up with Cole while Jamie makes her way beside me. My eyes discreetly stay focused on the scars at the base of his neck that slightly peek up the collar of his shirt and through his collarbone. To everyone else they look white against grey skin, but to me they're a pinkish white. I wonder why scars are that color. I know that blood is a pure red, I discovered that cutting vegetables a month ago. Maybe it's just the way the skin heals? Maybe I'll ask my mom about it tonight.
Chemistry is a stressful period. I don't know a thing on that test, and I come out of it with a definite feeling that I failed. I head to my last period class alone since we're all split up for our last period and put my books down with a sigh. I really just want to go home and sleep.
"Natalie?" Mr. Owen, my calculus teacher calls me up to his desk. Anticipation almost makes me clutch my stomach thinking what he may want from me. Am I in trouble? I know I said I didn't care but I don't want my parents to disown me. "Would you mind running this down to the office for me?"
I stare at the papers he's shoving at me, blinking a couple of times before muttering, "Oh. Yeah, sure."
I take the papers and almost scurry out of the classroom before I catch myself. Maybe this small walk will help. I really need to just get away from a classroom environment at this point. Hopefully this will give me a small breather that will do me enough good to get through last period.
I put a fake smile on my face when I walk into the office, walking up to the front desk. The secretary from behind the desk smiles at me as she gets up, walking over to get the papers from me. "Good afternoon, Natalie. Are those from Mr. Owen?"
"Yup," I say, handing her the papers. She smiles at me, her red-lipstick-coated lips tugging upwards in a closed-lipped grin.
"You're in his class this period, right?" she asks me. When I nod, she turns back to another teacher and says, "Natalie is in his class, she can take Jericho up." The secretary turns back to me, "Looks like your class has a new student who just came in. Do you mind showing him up?"
"Of course not," I smile.
"Great!" she grins. "Just give me a moment." The secretary disappears behind the wall into a room, probably to get the new student. I sigh, leaning my weight on one leg while I wait. It's not long before the secretary comes back out with the new student and suddenly everything in my body just freezes. I don't breathe, my heart doesn't beat and my blood doesn't flow.
It's him. It's the boy I bumped into on Crooks Street, the one who had exploded my world in color before running away with frightened eyes. The reason the pressure on my chest never ceases and I don't want to get out of bed in the morning.
He looks the same- his black hair pushed up and startlingly amber eyes big and wide. His lips are pale and thin, his cheekbones prominent. He's tall and might have stretched out even a bit more since I last same him three months ago. One thing is different though- this time when he spots me, his eyes widening in alarm and his eyes flicker for an escape, he doesn't have one. He has no where to run.
I know his name now. Jericho. An odd name, honestly, but expected from a rebel. They're always odd. I notice he doesn't have any tattoos or piercings, but he still obtains that hard, strong aura about him like most rebels do. It's also a rebellious one, but that's one obvious- it comes with the title.
The secretary, of course, stays oblivious to the way Jericho and I stare at each other in utter shock. She says, "Jericho, Natalie is a lovely girl to show you around the school. If you have any questions be sure to ask. Welcome to our school, we're happy to have you here."
"Thank you," Jericho mutters. It's the first time I've heard him talk.
The secretary puts a hand on Jericho's back and leads him around the desk since he seems to be frozen. Jericho stumbles at first but eventually catches himself, doing his absolute best to avoid any sort of eye contact with me as we make our way out of the office.
The tense and thick silence continues to live between us as we hesitantly make our way down the hall. I don't want to look at him, just as he doesn't want to look at me. I hate him. I hate every fibre of his being. He's caused me so much pain because he was a coward and ran. But every time I look at him and his pushed up hair and amber eyes, I can't deny he's beautiful. I don't want to think of him like that, I want to be angry at him just so he can see the pain he's caused me.
When we turn the corner, I decide that I've had enough of the silence between us. I practically growl, "What, you're not going to run this time?"
I don't look at Jericho, but I can feel him tense significantly beside me. He falters in his step until he stops altogether. I stop too, turning around to face him. Jericho still won't look at me, his gaze directed at the floor. His eyes are hard.
"Well?" I demand, taking a step closer. I know this isn't the ideal first interaction between soulmates, but I can't help it. I'm livid with what he put me through, how someone who hadn't spoken a word to me and used to be nameless was able to change me so drastically. He did so just by existing and it killed me inside, it really did. "Have nothing to say? I'm not surprised, you didn't have much to say three months ago either."
Finally, I get a reaction from him in the form of a bitter chuckle and a shake of his head. He looks up at me, his amber eyes hardening even more. "I just have the worst luck, huh?" he speaks, and it's not in the same small mutter he had given the secretary. His voice is deep and sad. "First I get a soulmate, then kicked out of my school and now you're in my last period class."
I scoff. "Sorry to be such an inconvenience."
"Would you calm down? Why are you getting so worked up over this? Soulmates are stupid, you're just some brainwashed kid that doesn't know fantasy from reality."
That hits me right in the heart. Hard. I want to tell him why I'm getting so worked up over this, about how I had waited for this all of my life and was left with a pain in my chest and no answers to my questions. I want to tell him about how I'm beginning to hate myself every day more and more for the depression eating me up inside out and how much it has changed me. All because of him. But no, he wouldn't care about any of that. Because he hates soulmates- he hates me.
My jaw clenches. "Well that 'brainwashed kid that doesn't know fantasy from reality' is your soulmate. They're real and the little rebellion you're trying to put up against them is pointless, considering I know you know what the color of these walls are. So deal with it. Or don't, I really couldn't give two flying fucks." I turn on my hell, walking ahead and yelling, "You might want to follow me if you don't want to get lost."
I continue walking, eventually hearing the sounds of his footsteps catching up to me. We make it to Mr. Owen's class without exchanging anymore words, Jericho going to Mr. Owen while I go sit down in my desk, trying my best not to stare at him.
Jericho gets a seat on the other side of the room but even still I can feel the thick, uncomfortable tension between us filling the room. God, this is going to be a miserable year.
Hey guys! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Jericho is finally here, yay! I know he seems like an ass right now but he has his reasons for it, trust me.
Thank you all so much for fifty votes last chapter in just one day, that's insane! If I could just have more than four comments it'd really mean so much to me, I know last chapter was boring but I really appreciate hearing your reactions!
Anyway, please don't forget to COMMENT AND VOTE! I love you all so so much! (: xoxo