"How can you two be best friends? This is really a small world, isn't it? Wait . . . let me guess." I tapped my chin thoughtfully and glanced at Clark. His face was unreadable and stoic, but something was wrong, I could sense it. It seemed as if Clark wasn't pleased with what Ian had said about them being best buds.
"Aha! You both have faint British accent so you may know each other. Ian, you came from England to this town a few months ago and Clark just shifted over here, from England!" I punched my own palm in excitement and Ian chuckled. "I'm right, ain't I?"
Ian nodded and I smiled in victory. I was such a genius to figure it out. I dug my hands into my pocket and my skin felt smooth, crisp money. I suggested them, "Guys, I'm damn hungry. Let's go for lunch at Macpie's. And don't worry, I'll pay for my own lunch."
"Alright let's go," Ian replied. We both looked at Clark expectantly and he shrugged. So off we three musketeers went for lunch.
* * *
We were now sitting and waiting for our food. Ian and I talked a lot about the town whereas Clark was quiet the entire time. I tried to drag him into the conversation but he rarely talked. He replied through gestures most of the time.
"So Ian, tell me about your friendship with Clark," I said and Ian softly drummed his fingers on the table. Clark stared at Ian caustically. I quirked an eyebrow in question at Clark, but he averted his eyes to the table.
"I don't have much to say about our friendship, just that we were friends since kindergarten."
"Aw, how cute," I mused in and Clark scoffed.
At that moment, the waiter approached us with a tray filled with our ordered food. "Here, this is your regular pizza with double cheese George."
"Hmm, smells delicious as usual," I praised her as my stomach growled. I dove into the pizza without bothering about anybody else. I heard Ian's laughter as I took a giant bite of the cheesy pizza. The melted cheese dripped down my mouth and I licked it. I was in pure bliss and I moaned in delight.
Instantly, I felt the gazes of Ian, Clark and the waiter on me. All three of them looked at me strangely. The waiter cleared his throat and disappeared. Ian and Clark both of them stared at me and then they glanced at each other for a second. Both of them shook their heads and looked down at their own lunch. I shrugged indifferently and took another bite of my yummy pizza.
Once again, I moaned in appreciation of the tasty pizza. I looked up and saw the boys staring at me again. They looked so . . . strange and weird. Their eyes turned dark yet sparkled in an odd way. Was that lust?
"Did I blow a parachute in your pants?" I remarked sarcastically.
Both of them coughed awkwardly. I narrowed my eyes and Clark threatened in an icy cold voice, "Do not make that noise again. Ever."
"Does that affect you, brownie?" I teased, winking at him.
"George, how are you doing?" the manager of Macpie's suddenly called out.
I waved at him and replied, "Fine, Sir! Wait there, I want to talk to you."
I got up from my seat and excused myself. The boys nodded their heads and I went to the manager.
"Did you get to know anything about my mum's killer?" I whispered surreptitiously. Since mum's accident took place right before this restaurant, we hoped that any of the people present in the restaurant that night would possibly know who the real culprit was.
"I'm sorry honey, we tried to gather as much evidence as we could. Your dad visits us every day to investigate about your mom's supposedly murder," he explained and patted my shoulder as my head hung low dejectedly.
* * *
"Students, today your task is to sketch any famous personality. The selection of the person depends on you," our art teacher announced.
"But Ma'am---"
"No buts, George. I'll hear nothing from you. You're an outstanding artist, you need to just explore more fields of art rather than playing with colours," she interjected and I sulked. I disliked sketching a lot, but I loved painting with colours. Not a plain black and white portrait of some shitty person.
I looked over at Noah and he smirked. Ugh! That devil! Noah was the elder brother of Kyle and was the same age as me and a fine artist. We both were the top contenders of art in the entire town and nobody could beat us when it came to painting. There was a massive, burning competition between the two of us, we were rivals.
He knew sketching far better than me which made my blood boil. In fact, people considered him better than me, but one fact the people couldn't deny was that my graffiti art was better than him. Unfortunately, the people never compared that with his skills.
I picked up my charcoal pencil and looked at the blank, white page. I scratched my head, trying to figure out what to draw. All the others were busy working on their sketches. Noah too was focused yet calm, cool and collected. I took a deep breath and hesitantly moved the pencil over the page.
Two hours passed by and I heard the teacher clap her hands to grab our attention. We peeked through our pages and she was smiling widely. "Alright, students. Stop with your beautiful sketches. I'll come around to look at it."
She went around motivating and judging the various sketches. When she arrived at Noah's desk, all of the students gathered there. They surrounded Noah like a swarm of bees. I stood in my secluded dark corner and tried to peep through the crowd. I hated to admit it, but Noah's sketch was indeed incredible. The sketch surely resembled the royal family of England.
People praised him and patted his back. The girls were all swooning over him as they cheered for him and hooted like wild animals. Jealousy rised in my body and my hands balled into fists in anger. Noah turned around and his deep, blue eyes met my envious ones. I cracked a saccharine smile. The teacher sauntered over to my desk and I held the page tightly against my chest. She insisted on seeing it, but I refused profusely. All the curious students were now around me trying their best to take a look at my sketch as I pushed them away.
"Come on George, don't be shy," I heard Noah say and before I could protect my sketch, he succesfully snatched it from my hand. He gaped at my painting and blinked for a few times. Slowly, he opened his mouth and asked in a soft tone, "What is this George?"
"Your ass! Are you satisfied finally? Now give it back!" I tried to grab it, but the sketch fell down on the floor and everybody saw it. There was dead silence for a couple of minutes until the entire class bursted out laughing.
I picked it up quickly in embarrassment and hid it behind my back. People were laughing loudly, banging the desks and benches. Well, it wasn't that funny. I tried my best with the sketch, but things didn't go according to what I had planned initially. I only managed to draw a crooked circle, a wide 'U' shaped smile, a deep 'J' shaped nose and perfectly round, 'O' shaped eyes.
"Which personality did you sketch?" Noah asked trying his best to keep a straight face. The entire class became silent to hear my answer. Somebody commented that it was Donald Trump and I glared at that girl.
I stomped my feet in frustration and mumbled, "It's Monalisa."
This time people were crying and their faces turned beet red from laughing. The teacher too was controlling her laughter. I crossed my arms against my chest and scowled. I tried to reason out, "I mean look here, the sketch doesn't has any eyebrows."
This was enough for the people to roll on the floor. Even the teacher was clutching her stomach and kicking her heels. This class was filled with lunatics. I threw my backpack over my shoulder and slipped out from the noisy room. Besides, our school prom was within two hours. Yes, our school prom was kept in the summer vacations much to everybody's disappointment.
The delay happened because of a disastrous month full of storms. Besides, our school was still raising funds. Also, the only grand hall of the town with it's capacity to hold an entire standard was earlier occupied by the rival highschool's prom and it wasn't in our dignity to conduct our prom in the same hall.
So finally after the unexpected rains went away and sufficient amounts of funds were raised, our prom was held on open grounds. Most of the students were vacationing around the world and so only a handful of us were left. I was pretty excited for it and was looking forward to it.
* * *
Prom was boring, really boring. The couples of the school had a gala time, but I was not even allowed to move from the place where I was seated. They thought that I was dangerous and I could ruin their prom. So, I was handed a tray full of delicious pastries to keep me busy, which I didn't mind. I obediently sat there the entire time watching the couples dance merrily and popping food in my mouth. I thought of pulling some pranks, but the teachers were hovering over me like a hawk.
It was late night now and I walked casually on the streets. My stomach was bloated. I kicked the scattered stones with my red sneakers. Of course, I didn't wear a dress for the prom. I wore a sequence top and a badass leather jacket. I paired it with glittery, purple pants and a sexy neon belt. I looked weird as usual, but something I approved of.
I saw the silhouette of a man and I immediately recognized him. I called out and he turned around. He beamed at me, but I simply nodded.
"What happened George?" Ian asked as I sidled beside him.
I inhaled deeply and said, "Nothing. Tonight was prom and it just didn't go well, I suppose."
"Wow, I never thought that you wanted to become the prom Queen," Ian said amusingly.
I trotted ahead, tossed my head back and smiled ruefully. "Actually, I was aiming for the Prom King."