to nochillno, who I recall mentioning in the Foreword chapter that they were born this day, on the 09th. Happy Birthday, and here's and update ❤
|Chapter 08|
| good old karma |
NICK felt like he was going to fall asleep any minute now.
Lecturers like Raymond Fawcett shouldn't be allowed to lecture. In fact, they should be banned from it.
He loved Mathematics, and the integration of it with Physics -- Nick did. It made sense to him. It drew him in. But right now, all professor Fawcett was doing was pushing Nick further and further away.
God, he was so boring.
It was a crime to let unenthusiastic people like him teach. If they didn't want to do it, they shouldn't have applied for the job in the first place. For hell's sake, the man walked into the hall and looked at the entire student body like he'd caught every one of them peeing on his front lawn the previous night and was planning to punish them for it
"What are you doing?" the person next to him inquired.
Nick suppressed a groan. He didn't feel like talking right now. Or even few hours from now. Or for the rest of his godforsaken life. But Blondie here couldn't take a fucking hint.
The one thing he hated just as much as an unenthusiastic lecturer, was a chatterbox. Bree was being too annoying with that unstoppable mouth of hers and the only thing on Nick's mind was making her shut up, all politeness and courtesy be damned.
He wondered if Dale and her had those rechargeable batteries run their mouths. Maybe that's why they always seemed to have energy regardless of how much he asked them to stop blabbering.
"What the hell do you mean what am I doing?" he finally asked when she continued to stare at him, expecting a goddamn reply.
"I mean, he just asked us to attempt something," she gestured with her hands towards the books laid out in front of them. "Why aren't you doing it?"
"Because I don't like him."
"Whom?" she frowned.
"The abominable snowman -- geez, woman, who do you think? Fawcett, of course!"
Bree just continued to look at him. No frown, or scowl, or disapproving look on her face. She just looked.
And it unnerved him.
He didn't like being regarded like that; it was as if the wheels in her head were turning and she was analysing him mentally. He hated it.
But then it struck Nick that Bree wasn't much of an observer, and she didn't seem to apply the analytical thinking required for an Engineering major on other aspects of her life. She might be book-smart, but wasn't street-smart.
And so he relaxed, realising that Bree was only probably attempting to figure him out.
"What does that have to do with you doing your work?" she finally asked, turning away with a slight crease on her forehead. As if she couldn't understand something.
"Doesn't it have everything to do with?" Nick asked thoughtfully.
"You said it was one of your favourite subjects," she pointed out and Nick seemed to like that she remembered.
Maybe because he tried so hard to be invisible that he himself forgot what it was like to be seen.
"Yes, and apparently it's also your worst," he couldn't help but say. Nick wasn't kidding -- it was as terrible as Dale singing along to Carry On My Wayward Son each time they made the drive down to Mauldin together.
Nick couldn't come up with a plausible reason why Bree would even choose this subject. He'd skimmed through the notes she'd left behind before handing them over to her at the Quake, and they were, to put it as nicely as possible, mediocre.
The tips of her ears and nose turned a bright shade of red. "Well!" she scoffed, apparently having no idea how to react.
Nick suddenly felt uneasy. He thought he could just go back to not acknowledging her existence but even after the apology, he seemed to be acting worse towards her.
Why couldn't she just shut her mouth and not try making conversation with him?
He couldn't be a completely stoic and impassive person towards her because that would totally contradict his apology, and he didn't want her to start believing he didn't mean it because he did -- he'd meant every goddamn word.
But Nick couldn't also completely soften down, and act all friendly and laid-back with her out of the blue.
He wasn't sure himself whether he was that person anymore. So much had changed. So much.
It'd have just been easier for her to accept the damn apology and let him be. But luck was never on his side.
And now he was stuck at a midway point. Somewhere between the part of him that was growing colder and the part that once used to be who he was. An intersection of the good and bad. She put him there.
And for the first time, he felt clueless. He didn't know what to do. Nick was mad at her for putting him in such a dilemma but deep down, knew he was only mad at himself.
But maybe he was always going to end up at this midpoint. It couldn't be all black or all white. He was bound to get to the grey some day. Maybe Bree just got him here quicker. He still hated the helpless sensation though. It made him feel weak. Vulnerable.
It made Nick feel like he was walking on eggshells. Threading on a thin wire. He couldn't get too comfortable and let someone in, because all of this was temporary -- yet he couldn't be completely nonchalant because he still had to survive and that required effort.
"Why did you choose this subject anyway?" Nick found himself asking. "Doesn't look like you have a keen interest for it."
Bree's hand that was holding the pen stopped moving, and she waited a second before raising her head from the book and looking at him. "My... uh, my dad's an architect and... um, well I just -- I guess I just grew up finding it all so fascinating... I want to major in the architectural field, of course, but since all first-year engineering students have a common core curriculum, I couldn't just push off this subject to a later stage. It was one of the fundamentals in the first year course."
Bree's mouth was still open, as if she wanted to add more, but when she closed it and shifted her eyes back to her book, Nick figured she wasn't about to say anything else.
"That's cool," Nick commented, instantly wanting to slap himself in the face. Had he forgotten how to keep a conversation going? Wait, why was he even bothering to?
"Yeah, I suppose so," she mumbled and Nick could swear she looked a bit deflated and maybe it'd have gone unnoticed by ordinary eyes, but his shrewd ones caught the slight lifting of the left corner of her lips like she was trying to smile but then it just dropped like there was no energy left.
That bothered him. Because she always seemed to have an excessive supply of energy. Bree was one of those people he'd pass by the halls without a second look, who he knew was in a few of his classes, but never interacted with.
That didn't mean he had never observed though, or taken into account. Some things his eyes would just capture and his mind would then lock away, committing it to a box of untouched subjects at the furthest corner of his mind. Unnecessary. Not adding anything of value to his life.
But then in rare moments such as these, it would suddenly flow into his thought-stream without any warning, and he'd be surprised he even knew of them.
Like right now, his mind flashed with images of her laughing in the hallways with another blonde girl, sometimes even with Dale... She'd even smiled at Nick once.
Bree always looked happy; and even if she wasn't laughing, she had an inviting look on her face. Maybe that was why he could see the slightly deflated look in her otherwise merry, welcoming eyes.
"Oh well, all in good time then," Nick felt compelled to say; to ease the mood. "When you introduce me to your parents, at least I'll know I can charm one of them, what with your dad and I having a common interest in this subject and all."
Bree snapped her head up, her eyes wide and startled, but she must have seen something on his face that indicated he was teasing, because she suddenly grinned, letting out a short, light laugh before shaking her head in amusement.
That's more like it, Nick couldn't help but think, watching the ghost of her silent laughter warm her cheeks.
"You seem dazed," he stated, raising a brow.
"Can you blame me?" Bree asked cheekily, a completely innocent expression on her face.
Before Nick could respond, the guy sitting right in front of them turned back and leant towards them. "Mind shutting up? I'm trying to get some work done here."
"Watch your tone. Because then I'll be the one trying not to high-five your face with a chair." Nick's reply was instantaneous, the retort rolling off his tongue as if it was only natural as breathing.
Bree looked alarmed at the bluntness, but not surprised, and Nick figured she was smarter than he gave her any credit for.
The boy's face turned red, and Nick just stared back at him with a bored expression. Part of him wanted to laugh at the irony of the situation; how the roles have been reversed when he'd been the one to tell off those two girls from Howard's class.
Good old karma. It never failed to surprise him.
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