Challenge Accepted

Chapter 2

So thank you everyone who has read this book and given me valuable feedback. This second chapter was originally supposed to include many more scenes but I decided to split it in two to make sure it wasn't crazy long. Here you go:

I pondered that night, not for the first time, what the hell I had gotten myself into. Earlier tonight, before I suggested what I did, the proposal seemed completely reasonable in my head. It was only after I had said it out loud and put revealing my past on the line, that I started to doubt whether or not it had been an actual good idea. Naturally, sleep came slowly and forcefully that night. Only after an estimated two hours of screwing my eyelids shut was I able to drift off into an uneasy sleep. Even losing consciousness was not enough to let Marek escape my thoughts, as two of the dreams I could vaguely recall in the morning had circled around him.

An image of Marek's face inches from mine was what I woke up to, and it scared the crap out of me. Not only was I fantasising about someone I had purpose to hate but I had put a whole damn lot on the line to make sure he fell in love with me first. Still shaken, I headed down the stairs and prepared myself drowsily for a long and exhausting day.

My mother's car had pulled up to school with a little more than half and hour to spare. It was a little time of luxurious relaxation before the struggle of school began, and so, had become a daily ritual. Me and a girl who was also in her junior year would sit beneath the bleachers before it started to crowd and do our homework. This girl, was my only associate. She is also a loner by choice and we have an unspoken agreement that whenever we're asked to pair up in class, we gravitate towards each other. We sit together when we have to. But I don't actually talk to her. "Hey, I'm fake dating the football douche, Marek, so I might not be able to pair up with you anymore," I warn her. She doesn't look up from her homework, she just nods. And that's the end of that conversation.

Marek turns up only ten minutes later and the area beneath the bleachers is still void of any other humans. He bowed his head in a hello when I looked up and then slipped beside me, watching me finish the math homework that was due first period. I can't focus when others watch me, so his behaviour became pretty irritating pretty quickly. I glanced up to find him studying my face to the tiniest freckle.

"How is this going to work, we can't just look like a couple... Can we?" He asked, his voice quivering almost nervously. I met his eyes and saw them clouded with anxiety, he had never done this before and although he was trying his hardest to keep his voice steady, his eyes betrayed him.

"We can't just look like a couple, we have to act like it. I meant everything I said yesterday, we kiss and hug and hold hands. The whole package, the only difference is that we don't actually like each other," I answer confidently. "Plus, it's not as hard as it sounds, when you actually date someone it just flows naturally. We'll get that too, once we get to know each other."

"I've never actually dated anyone for longer than a month so... how long are real relationships?" He questioned, suddenly curious.

I chuckled airily. This man was hilarious in his own way, and stupidity contributed majorly to his comedic ways. "The goal is, in the end, I guess, marriage. But high school relationships usually last six months or something along those lines."

"Marriage," he exclaimed skeptically. "Psh, I doubt it actually ever gets that far for couples our age... right."

"I read somewhere that almost 15% of married couples knew each other in high school, but that doesn't mean they dated."

"Wow," he whispered quietly. Conversation ceased after that, and Marek went back to admiring me as I continued my attempt at working while being watched. As I predicted, it didn't really go very well, I barely got the worksheet finished before the bell went. At which point Marek had taken to running a lose strand of my hair between his thumb and index finger. As I said, distracting.

We exchanged schedules on the way to homeroom. Usually we had more classes in common, but today all the classes we didn't share were on the schedule. There were three classes we didn't share, Math (different levels), English (different levels) and Chemistry or Biology depending on which the science you chose. Our school had six periods every day, varying each day in the week. There was a break after every two periods, one thirty minute pause to have something to eat after the first two periods and an hour lunch break after fourth period.

I sat though my first period, English Higher Level, without paying much attention. I could hear the teacher mumbling about some sort of narrative device that we had to use more often in our writing but in all honesty, my mind was on Marek. It was weird feeling; to hate someone one day and then appreciate then the next. Granted, I wasn't head over heels in love with Marek, but I didn't hate him anymore.

After English passed, both Marek and myself made our way up to our History class on the third floor. As if by some unspoken agreement, Marek made his way to the back of the class and sat beside me on the table closest to the rear window. What I liked about this seat was the constant entertainment the window provided. Being on the third floor a great view was guaranteed but I loved how you could see the elementary school across the road as well, it was often a reminder of how insignificant my troubles were. If those kids can play care freely, then so can I. Age shouldn't matter.

With that thought, I decided that after paying absolutely no attention in English, it would be wise to at least jot down a couple notes during History. This isn't like me, I'm not usually the type to drift off. So rather than addressing the elephant in the room, Marek, I blamed it on my lack of sleep.

I nudged Marek's arm and gave him a questioning look that translated to 'what the hell are we even talking about'. He signalled to the worksheet that the teacher had kindly handed out before sliding the paper just far enough towards me to see his answers clearly. I thanked him in a whisper and graciously copied the answers messily.

It struck me odd that someone with such a clear image as Marek, would do something so completely out of character. The gesture isn't even too shocking albeit a little too friendly, but as the teacher projected the answers up on the white board, it slowly dawned on me that every single one of them was right. Absolutely correct. I vowed to ask Marek about this later, but I had a growing hunch that he wasn't the bad boy he opted to be. 

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