The beauty of chapters: I thought he was the one

Chapter 9

My head hurt.

Lack of sleep plus the stench of medicine left an impact on my morning as big as the one Michael left last night. Surprisingly paranoia of Mum finding out about the parties always got blocked by something more powerful. The first time was the vivid image of the bleeding man on the ground and last night was the guilt of almost doing something irreversible.

I couldn't get myself to close my eyes without reminiscing of his hand on my skin and how dirty I felt for liking it.

I continued on my merry way to my next class when I heard someone call "Miss," behind me. I turned to see the tall, slim boy from last night close the small distance between us with three long strides. "Hey," his voice was breathy as he scanned the area around me for someone. "Where's your friend?" He asked.

"Ki" I stopped midway, suddenly cautious that Kira might've given him a fake name. Luckily, he didn't catch on. "Ugh, I don't know." I looked around me too, as if Kira would magically appear somewhere. "We don't have the same classes, but she must be here somewhere."

"Oh, well do you happen to know what classes she has?"

With a tight apologetic smile, I shook my head. "I don't, I'm sorry. But she has class today, I remember her saying she had a test but she didn't mention which class. I'm sorry."

"It's OK, thanks." He took a right step to leave then paused, forcing me to do the same. "What's your name?"

"Dubraska."

"Dubraska, I'm Dean. Tell your friend I was looking for her in case you run into her."

"Will do." And like that we both continued on our ways.

With my notes in hands, I walked over to business management. While others switched their laptops on, I pulled out my notebook and flipped to a new page where I could script in the ugliest hand writing of today's notes then rewrite them in another book with sparkly pens and highlights.

My eyes kept on swinging over to the door every time someone would walked in. Both anticipation and nervousness coursed through my body like it was a highway for them. My main focus was to hand over the notes that I woke up early enough to write down to Michael then carry on with my day, but I also wanted to just slouched in hopes that my hair falling into my face would turn me into a shadow that went unnoticed, and he'll forget all about last night's conversation.

I couldn't look at him, not after almost participating in him cheating on his girlfriend. I didn't want to relive the dirty emotions of being attracted to someone that wasn't proper for me to even look at. I shouldn't have been looking at anyone to begin with, my focus was school, all I've ever known was school, boy drama was not part of any of that and shouldn't have been part of any of that.

If only my brain could prevent the self-deteriorating thoughts about last night from eating at me like worms living off a dead corpse. Even as I sat down on the bench this morning, writing notes, all I could think about was how a terrible person I had become to lay eyes on someone unavailable. I was the only child of my parents and the only one to bring shame upon the family.

Every second pass was a second closer of me taking back my words on helping him out and just pack my things and run in the opposite direction of him, putting as much distance as there was  when he didn't know of my existence, and I only saw him as another handsome boy in class who I would've never approached nor shared a word with.

The door opened and my heart paused as a boy in all black walked in. But it wasn't him. Instead of disappointment it was anticipation that coursed through my blood streams in the wait of him walking in at any moment, but once again the next person to walk in was not him.