Asks Hatcher if the rumor is true

I sat quietly on my chair as geometry plodded along, occasionally hazarding the sideward glance at Hatcher. He seemed far away. His eyes were unfocused as he chewed his pen gently, as a dog would a pair of new sneakers. I looked ahead, my gaze more on the clock above the wall than on the mass of triangles and numbers below it. The voice of the teacher was no more than vibrations to my eardrum as I kept going over what i would say to him.

Then, the moment came. Like a shrill siren piercing the col morning air in a factory, the bell sounded to dismiss us. We all stood up in unison, Hatcher faster than the rest. I turned to him the very moment he turned to nod me goodbye, and was forced to ask him while staring into his brown eyes.

"Heyiheardarumourabouu. I mean, you and Chase; i mean, the house on the grey hill. Um, did you go there?" Again, i had made a complete idiot of myself. I wanted to look away but couldn't take my eyes away from his. I watched them widen suddenly and then ever so quickly collapse back into slits.

"What do you mean?" he said, beginning to walk away.

"Never mind!" I had to ration the little courage i possessed and as far as i was concerned i had used more than my fair share for the day. Mum always contradicted me by saying, "Courage is like a watermelon seed. Use it and you planted a tree that will give fruit with thousands of such tiny seeds." Or something like that.

"No, tell me. Kyra right?"

"Well, Kyla actually. Well, my friend-"

"Which friend?"


"Go on."

"Thanks. Well, this friend told me you had gone up to the house with Chase last night, as a dare."

"True. And what did she tell you happened?"

"Well, she didn' actually."

"Was she going to tell you sometime?"

"Yes," i replied wondering where this was going to end up. I watched him as he furrowed his brow, then looked away, looked around at the now empty classroom and turned closer towards me. I was scared, nervous and yet oddly intrigued.

"Kyla, look. Can you do me a favour?"


He sat on a desk next to me and propped his leg up onto the chair. "Ask your friend to tell you whatever she knows, and then come and tell me what she told you. Then I'll let you in on how much of it is true and how much isn't. Meet me at Starbucks at 5?"

I just nodded. He smiled and left.

Driven by my (overly) inquisitive disposition, I hurried through the corridors, past the groups of people, in search of the lunchroom, and my story.

The End

0 comments about this story Feed