dedicated to Tiwalade101❤ .
this is unedited, feel free to point out my errors.
"Dude, would you calm the fuck down?!" I heard the voice I assumed as Zac's snap back, matching James' tone equally. My head throbbed badly, feeling like it had been hit repeatedly with a pestle and my mouth tasted bitter despite having already brushed.
I needed Tylenol. Badly.
"You think I'd be okay with you walking in now like you did nothing wrong?" James' British accent couldn't be masked whenever he was angry. It was the major giveaway of his true annoyance. I put a hand to my forehead, fearing their raised voices would only worsen my headache. "Do you even realize that she's still a teenager?"
"She's fine, nothing happened. Let it go," Zac was saying when another voice interrupted them, this time it was Liz. I was still standing outside the kitchen door, with my head still pounding as I listened.
"You guys, there's no need to the fight. You'll wake them up." Lani must have still been asleep, but that was odd considering the fact that we shared a room and she wasn't there when I woke.
"Stay out of this Liz, you know exactly why I'm angry at this jerk!"
"Who are you calling a jerk, English boy?" Zac growled and I decided it was high time for me to crash this stupid fight. I already knew the subject matter of their fight was none other than last night's party. The events were kind of blurry now but I could still remember James coming to carry me off the car hood where I had passed out giving him the directions to the party.
"You fucking asshole!" James spat, acidly as I finally entered the kitchen with my arms crossed now. It was too early in the morning to deal with this and I glared daggers at the boys. Liz was on a raised stool by the kitchen island, eyes tired and still in what looked like her last night's party attire, Zac was dressed similarly in last night's clothes while only James stood in his silk pyjamas.
"James please stop," I started, my voice sounded scratchy and tired. "Yes, everyone here realizes I'm not an adult here but I think I'm capable of making my own decisions. Thank you for coming last night but please stay out of this."
"Do you even realize what you were drinking last night?" James questioned, incredulously. His eyes had exhausted shadows under them, those always appeared whenever he missed sleep.
"Just fucking let it go."
"Fine," he hissed, eyes flaring in annoyance and with one last shared look of understanding with his twin, one that she looked as grave as he did, he left the kitchen.
The silence after James left was half awkward as Zac rubbed the back of his neck, slowly and pointedly avoided my eyes. "So you're not mad?" He finally asked after a while. Liz just sat silently, looking between us with eyes still grave.
"I am."
"Jules, I was --"
"I don't wanna hear shit --" I cut him off, still pissed. James was already annoyed and so was I. I didn't want his explanation, I didn't want to hear anything from him at all. I had my class with Professor Sykes in less than hour and my headache wasn't getting any better.
"It's just that --"
"ZAC, I DO NOT WANT TO HEAR!" I was getting pissed by the second as another voice floated into the kitchen in form of the dark skinned girl in shorts and a tank top with her braids a messy ponytail.
"What is with the yelling this goddamned morning?" Lani groaned, rubbing her eyes and stifling a yawn. "First it was James' stupid voice and now you're yelling too." She looked over at me, eyes narrowed.
"My voice isn't stupid!" James hollered from wherever he was in the house. "And how'd you know what's going on when all you do is sleep?"
The yelling was getting to me as I placed both hands on either side of my head and groaned. I could see Lani going out of the kitchen, most likely to go trash it out with James.
"Hey, Oyinbo!" She called, already disappearing from sight. "Where I come from, sleeping is about the only thing that's not an offence." Sometimes, the way Lani spoke about Nigeria, her birthplace, scared me a little. Also, I was pretty positive she was insulting us most times she switched to her native tongue.
I turned to Liz that had been quiet to whole time. "Liz, can you please drop me off at school?" She turned her blue eyes on me and nodded slowly, unsmiling and still looking exhausted.
"Thank you," I told her, minutes after, as she pulled up right in front of my destination, the huge visual arts building.
"It's fine. I needed to leave that house anyways," she sighed, wearily. I realized she was probably still tired. She and James were so alike it spooked me sometimes. This weekend she had gotten a pixie haircut that framed her adorable face and dyed the hair platinum silver which brought out her baby blue eyes.
"Look, Julie," she continued, yawning a little. "About last night, it was mainly my fault keeping Zac, but he honestly didn't mention you came with."
"It's fine." I half laughed, my head still on the headrest and I wondered why I forgot to get some Tylenol before coming, my headache was getting worse by the second. "I just sat outside with some Irish dude that thinks I'm too tall for a girl--" I was taller than both Lani and Liz, and most girls that I knew. "--hey, you don't happen to have any painkillers with you here? My head is killing me."
She frowned, removing her seatbelt and turned to reach for her big, black designer bag sitting on the backseat and rifled through it for a few seconds. She stretched out a small, white container moments later and I grabbed it gratefully.
"You're a lifesaver," I murmured, cracking open the container and pulling out two white pills out of the numerous.
"James was overreacting because of me," she suddenly whispered out of the blue. Her eyes were wide and face white as she spoke, quietly. Liz's accent was one of the most adorable things about her cute self.
"What?" I threw the two pills into my mouth, swallowing immediately and feeling the sensation of it coursing down my throat. I didn't particularly love drugs.
"He was mad for real this morning because of what happened last night."
"What does that have to do with you then?" I wondered where this was going because I was already running late for class and Professor Sykes didn't seem like the type to indulge me.
"I was once raped at a party James took us to, back home in Manchester," she confessed without meeting my eyes but I could tell from her tone that this was a painful subject for her.
I stayed silent, unsure of what to do next. Seriously, what was supposed to happen next in situations like these? Liz took the dilemma out of my hands by speaking again, softly.
"I was heavily drugged with Rohypnol --"
"What's that?" I asked, genuinely curious. It was times like these that made me remember that Liz and the others were full adults, I was just going to be legal by the end of the year.
"It's a date rape drug." She looked down at her bag and used a hand to flick through the contents, looking for something. "I didn't even realize what had happened till morning."
"I'm sorry." I really didn't know what to say, I felt bad for her but no words seemed right to put down for this kind of situation.
"Don't be," she shrugged, pulling out her black, Aviator sunglasses and putting them on. "It wasn't my first time or anything, but it was still rape. I did a bunch of tests, you know those HIV tests and all and came back clean."
"Pregnancy?"
"I've been on the pill since I turned sixteen." She laughed, the kind of mirthless laugh that people in pain laughed.
"Wow," was all I could manage to say.
"Yeah," she replied, dryly. "Just don't tell James I told you, he kind of still blames himself. Moving on, I hear you're having private lessons with the hottest teacher to ever walk through this campus." I could bet an internal organ that Liz winked after saying that.
"He's a total grouch and no thank you, I'd rather not think about my teacher that way." I laughed lightly, opening the car door and pulling on the hood of my navy blue, dress shirt. "Thanks again for the ride, Liz, you're the best."
She managed a grin and raised two fingers to give the Peace sign. I nodded back to her then proceeded into the building. This time around, the bald receptionist did nothing to hinder my movement upstairs but only gave a friendly wave. I didn't see cheerful, old Bertie this time around as I walked down the corridors to the studio.
A few metres away from the entrance, a bright redheaded guy walked out. His face was dotted with several freckles and he comically immediately reminded me of Archie Andrews, I laughed off the thought in my head as he approached me. We were bound to cross paths.
I was prepared to share the perfunctory 'hello' when he stopped right in front of me to glare up at me. I was a few inches taller, something that I was pretty sure, judging by the look of his face, he wasn't pleased about.
"Hello, can I help you?" I sounded nasal and annoyed too, but he started it really. His lime green sweater irritated my eyes too.
"You can't help me Juniper Lee Song." He said my name like it was a bad word, like he didn't like the taste of it. He was still standing in front of me, blocking my way with his small, brown eyes narrowed with utter dislike directed at me.
"Do I even know you?"
He looked miffed by the thought that I didn't recognize him, puffing out his chest a bit and speaking. "I'm the PCA blog writer that leaked information about you and your cult. Yet, you seem to still be walking around this school, free and fraternizing with other students."
I laughed uneasily, my headache was just getting relieved gradually when this nuisance came up. "This is a joke, right?"
"The fact that you're not expelled like your colleagues and facing a trial is the only ridiculous thing here," the redheaded burst out, annoyed, his bushy eyebrows shot up.
I really wasn't in the mood for this rubbish, this was just not the morning. "You do realize I came out clean after the investigation, weirdo."
"The only thing I realize here is that my work is not yet done until you're brought to justice," he stated with vigour, arms crossed across his slender chest.
"You're insane." I stepped out to the side, half expecting him to come block my path again. "And I'm leaving now, thank you. I hope you use your meds soon, don't forget them next time."
His eyes flashed with outrage that I didn't care to look into as I continued walking towards the studio. "Just watch your back in this campus, Juniper. One slip up and you're gone," I heard him say, lowly in a voice that gave me definite chills.
Just what I needed, another pressure from a creep bent on bringing me to supposed 'justice'.
I sighed as I entered the studio, this time it contained both my grouchy teacher and good, old, friendly Bertram. I shuffled over to take a seat on a stool as I watched both men converse over a slender log on the worktable. Professor Sykes was in brown, faded jeans and a worn out black, round necked shirt which left his tattoos on full display. The fact that he stood completely barefoot gave me strange chills and he had on his usual shades, I was starting to think he never took them off.
"It won't stand, if I start it will crack in halfway through," Professor Sykes was telling his trusted, balding assistant in the blue suit. Bertram looked several years older than him, with his face fixed in a permanent scowl as he looked over at me.
What crawled up his ass and died?
"I will ensure it's changed then, sir. As soon as possible," Bertram promised, solemnly as he gave a low bow even though the receiver could not see it.
"Thank you, Bertie," the blind man said, cheerfully. "You can leave Miss Lee Song and I alone now."
I released an involuntary gasp, surprised at how he knew about my presence, I hadn't made a sound entering and had been quiet all through so how did he know?
"Yes, sir." Bertram left but not without sending me a last scowl for good measure.
The blind man moved with the precision of a man acutely aware of his surroundings as he came forward, stopping a few inches from me and settling down on the floor with legs crossed.
"You're late, Miss Lee Song."
"It's Miss Song." How long were we going to keep up with this thing?
"I thought you were indefinitely suspended from all social gatherings?" He questioned, suddenly. My eyes were glued to his arms, how could a man's arms be that attractive?
"I am, sir."
"You went out last night." I wasn't sure if this was a question or a statement so I stayed silent. "The stench of alcohol is coming off you in waves. Look, Miss Lee Song --"
"Miss Song."
"You really should follow the school's rules, if you want to face the board the second time, we should really not waste any more time teaching you."
His words irritated me and I tore my eyes off his attractive hands to his face, he was frowning at me. "I don't want to get expelled."
"I thought so too." He was cracking his knuckles now, each crack sending strange thrills of excitement down me. I loved how he sounded, how smooth his voice was.
Speaking of expulsion, I remembered the Archie Andrews doppelganger I encountered outside and decided to ask about him. "Ummm...Professor, there's this guy that just came out of here when I came in. He has red hair, freckles --" I paused when I realized I was describing this to a man that couldn't see.
"I'm guessing you're referring to Archibald?" His tone suggested he knew why I stopped the description and wasn't amused. For a moment, I realized that he couldn't tell how I looked too, I wondered how he pictured me in his mind. Everyone had a mind's eye, that's how we pictured characters we've never seen.
"His name's Archibald?" I snorted, I couldn't help it. What were the odds that his name would actually be his comic book version's name?
"How is that funny?"
"It's just that he looks like --" I started, but paused due to the same reason I paused earlier on. "-- never mind, sir. What was he doing here?"
"He has a few classes with me, Miss Lee Song."
"Miss Song."
"That guy is weird." I remembered his unpleasant looking sweater and creepy voice. I could remember that particular blog he wrote very well and how my name had been listed along with the others.
"Everyone is weird," he replied, dismissively and I felt a bit insulted, he wasn't the least interested in my gossip. "Now, open Millennium Arts and read the chapter on Motifs out loud."
"But I read that the last time!" I cried out, emphatically as I opened my cross bag to bring out the heavy textbook. I glared at him, hoping he felt the burn through my gaze.
"Then you can tell me exact words Picasso used to describe the use of motifs on life arts?" He asked, smoothly, his voice was so soft it could have put me in a trance. Why wouldn't he just take off the shades?
"No." How did he expect me to remember that? It had been bad enough reading that thing the first time, reading it the second time was just torturing me.
The blind man reached for his hair, untying the band that held his man-bun. "Open your textbook then, Miss Lee Song."
"Miss Song."
His black hair cascaded down, attractively as he ran a hand through it. "Read aloud."
***
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