Devon's P.O.V

‘I’ll not talk to them. I’ll not look at them. I’ll not acknowledge them.’ I repeated these sentences again and again as I walked into the hellhole a.k.a  St. Agnes School for Secondary Education. I simply hated this place. I had tried to accept it as my second home but it just didn’t seem to accept ME.

‘Hey Dev,’ I heard them call ‘Come on dude, we are going to The Spot.’ The Spot- the place where I and my ‘friends’ go to as soon as we set foot in the school and don’t return until it ends. No one even TRIES to stop us or maybe they just don’t give a damn.

I looked at my friend- Agnes, with her spiky dark hair looked already dazed while Arnold with his huge muscles kept on sniffing his handkerchief. Beside them stood my ‘best friend’, Carl. My partner in crime, literally. The guy with whom I smoked. The guy with whom I TRIED to stop Agnes and Arnold from doing drugs. It was pointless as they were too deeply associated with that poison but still….

‘Dude, you coming?’ Carl yelled. It was tempting, honestly speaking here, but I remembered the promise. I shut my eyes, restraining myself from yelling back a ‘Yes man.’ I didn’t want to do anything with Agnes or Arnold or even Carl anymore. I HAD to TURN. I had to become what she had WANTED me to be.

‘Hey there, nerd,’ I heard a voice calling out. A shrill, girly, snobby voice. Probably a cheerleader, my mind went. But who was she addressing that way? I turned around. The main door was half opened by a fair, slim hand and the person to whom it belonged was also looking back, towards the place where the voice had come from. All I could see was bushy, brown hair of the girl.

As she let the door go, I heard her asking ‘What’s up, bimbo?’ and then the door closed. I stood there for a while, trying to take in every word the girl had said in that voice. Being with Agnes since the last two years had made me forget what a real girl’s voice sounded like.

Agnes’s voice was so deep and gruffy sort of while this girl’s voice was commanding yet with a tone of playfulness in it. The bell rang and everyone started hurrying around for their first class. I saw Carl shrug at me, looking all confused, as Agnes and Arnold pushed him out the door which led to the cafeteria, from where they would, as usual, jump out of the window and go to The Spot.

I sighed. There would be a lot of questions at lunch today. I looked back again, hoping to see Frizzy’s face, but no one entered. Darn it.

I slowly walked up to my locker and dumped my bag in. Which class did I have? I searched in my bag and took out a crumpled paper which contained my time table. I sighed, frustrated. History! I had History! For god’s sake, I hadn’t attended any class since the school began last week so what was I supposed to DO? Just dump myself on a chair and say ‘I am here.’ To Lanchester? No way.  ‘Promise?’ I heard her voice whispering in my mind. I shut my eyes and recalled the last word she had said to me. I HAD to face it if I wanted her to be happy. Opening my eyes and with a resolute stature, I walked towards the classroom.

I pushed the door open. Everyone was already there, except Lanchester, and the moment I pushed the door open, everyone turned to ogle at me.  I could see their eyes growing wider by the second. I could almost hear them thinking, ‘What HAPPENED? Is he TOO high?’

As I walked to the back to take my seat I heard a girl saying,’ Believe it or not, he IS hot.’ I chose not to reply to it or even think about it. I took my seat and put down my head.

‘Good morning, everyone.’ I heard Lanchester greeting. I hated that bald headed freak who seemed as that Gandalf guy. I remembered him from the day he had told on me to the Principal. I had SO wanted to kill him then but… he just wanted to get me back to the right path, I guess.

He started calling out names from the register. ‘Abel. Present. Abraham. Present. Alicia. Present. Amethyst. Amethyst?’ he looked around the classroom glaring at everyone as if they were the reason Amethyst, whoever she was, had not come. His eyes fell upon me and he raised his eyebrows, surprise.

‘Devon.’ He said with no feeling. ‘Good morning, sir.’  I greeted. He nodded and then continued ‘I think everyone else is here. Now let’s begin with Nationalism in Indo China. So…’

That’s when the door burst open and she came in. Frizzy was pretty. I could see her blue eyes shining even from where I sat. She said something to Lanchester as if trying to explain something. I saw him narrowing his eyes as if he didn’t believe her, but then he just jerked his head towards the seat next to mine. I nearly started to hyperventilate. Ok no. I just felt….. WEIRD.

She started walking to her seat, which WAS next to mine with an air of superiority which was totally annoying. ‘Amethyst,’ said Lanchester ‘Take out lesson 2, Nationalism in Indo China.’ She nodded and took her seat, taking no heed of my presence.

She quickly took out her book and opening it read the summary as if she was X-raying it or something. Definitely a nerd, then. I was observing every moment of her, god knows why. After reading she then straightened up and sort of went into another world as her eyes were not…focused. ‘Amethyst,’ I heard Lanchester calling out to her ‘When did Vietnam gain independence?’ he asked. Amethyst didn’t reply but continued to be wherever she was.

‘Amethyst?’  Lanchester repeated, sounding annoyed . Man, he’d kill her, said my mind. I wanted to help her so I called out to her. She turned to look at me, her eyes wide, and then backed away as if I was something gross.

‘WHAT?’  she demanded, rudely. I didn’t know why but it hurt. A little. But it did. It must have shown in my face because her expression seemed to soften up a bit and she opened her moth to say something.

 ‘Amethyst. Answer please.’ Lanchester urged. She seemed to regain her senses pretty quickly and standing up asked all confidently ‘Can you repeat the question?’ That girl did have guts. For a second I thought Lanchester was going to hit her but he repeated the question.

The question had barely ended when Amethyst went, ‘Indo China, that is, Vietnam, to be precise, gained formal independence in 1945 but it was three decades later that the Republic of Vietnam was established.’ She then stared at Lanchester with those big, blue eyes of hers. ‘Correct,’ said Lanchester, puffing his chest up, as if it was for his excellent teaching that Amethyst had answered his question.

Amethyst sat down, satisfied. Her eyes roamed all around the classroom looking for provocation or something. None came. I heard her saying ‘Stupid jerks.’ Before she went back to daydreaming.

Whatever. Nerd.


The End

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