Chapter thirteen

I was tired and cranky the nest day having unknowingly spent my night on the cold hard floor. I was therefore only capable of keeping my eyes open just enough so as not to walk into people but that was just about it. I walked quite unconsciously from class to class and not even the thought of my favorite lesson could get me excited.

I bumped into someone and fell on my butt as I walked into the classroom five minutes early and opened my eyes a bit more to look up at my favorite teacher in the whole world, Mr. Wallace but everybody called him Monsieur because he taught French.

"Spencer, I have to say this is your worst way of saying hi yet," he said looking down at me with a teasing smile on his face, "You good?" he asked as he helped me up.

"Yeah I'm just not awake yet you know," I said trying and failing for a smile.

"I will take your word for it because you will lie to me if I persist," he said chuckling, "Anyway try not to walk through people. They generally don't like it." And he walked towards the staffroom as I entered the class.

I barely registered anything that was going on as I slumped into a chair in the middle of the classroom and lay my head on the desk. More students walked in and everyone was pretty much settled when the bell rang.

Class began and I immediately realized writing with a gigantic slash on the palm of your dominant hand was going to be quite difficult. My hand hurt badly when I opened it or closed it or held my pen, just basically when I moved it any which way. I however loved taking notes during class because if I didn't it would just mean more work for me later and I hated copying other peoples notes because they wrote them sloppily.

I was still struggling to write notes when I noticed the gut next to me pull out a second book and start writing in it too so that he was writing using both hands on two different note books and I couldn't help feeling like the guy was an absolute show off. I mean here I was barely able to write any notes because my right hand was slashed up and my left hand couldn't write a whole word if my life depended on it while this guy here just for the fun of it was writing notes with two hands!!! I looked up at him for a moment and regretted that immediately because ambidextrous show off jus so happened to be my nameless forest green eyes guy.

He was so busy writing notes in both books turning his head from one to another that he didn't even notice me glaring at him through most of the class and irrational as it is I hated him even more for it. Class ended and people began filing out and as I packed my books I finally heard his say,

"What happened to your hand?"

I snapped. Not because I was mad at him or because of his question I was just mad at everything really and Im ashamed to say I guess I juts wanted to let it all out on someone and he was the unfortunate victim.

"What's it to you huh?! Or did you want me to really notice that you were capable of writing with both your hands while I was struggling here?!!" I said venomously while shooting literal daggers at him. A few people turned to look at us and others pretended they didn't hear me while throwing not so subtle glances our way.

"I just—never mind. Sorry," he said quickly and before I could say anything he picked up his bag and left.

And I felt even worse.

"So, you gonna go tell him sorry?" Aria asked as we were walking to lunch together.

Honestly, I didn't even know what to do. I mean its not like we were friend or anything but I generally didn't like being so mean. I mean I know I was almost always mean but only to my friends and family who could take it and dish it right back. He had looked like I had kicked him as he walked out of the class and I hadn't seen him since. I mean even now during lunch he was not on any table and I knew because I had been looking for him.

I was stuck between feeling guilty, sorry and annoyed because what was wrong with that guy. He just came crashing into my life and somehow, he seemed to be occupying every bit of it, consuming me. It seemed as though everything had been about him forever, and it had only been like four days since we met!!! I hated that I cared so much that I had hurt him. I hated that I cared so much that he didn't not acknowledge we had met before. I hated that a tiny part of me was scared that I had finally done it, I had finally chased him off.

When I reached my locker, I noticed a small bag on the floor next to it. Curiosity being one of my biggest vices I picked it up and took out a notebook I had seen earlier today in French class. I opened it to find beautifully written notes from our French class today and as I stared disbelieving at them a note fell out of the book.

I just – wanted to give you these.

Almost as though he was completing the statement he had been unable to before he left class and as I looked up I found myself staring into those eyes, those beautiful eyes from across the hall with many people walking between us but I didn't see them. I saw only him and for one moment that felt like an eternity, everything was perfect. And then the moment ended and he turned away and disappeared among the students and it took me that long to notice I had been wrong; the moment hadn't been perfect. He had not been smiling.