6 | Cold hot-chocolate

"I'm tired of reminding you to work on your grades, Nio."

I look at Mr. B.M Harrison's wide and dark face and he surely looks tired. He lets out an exasperated sigh and his small brown ears, which sticks out rather oddly, drop with hopelessness for me. I wonder why he even cares for my grades so much in the first place. But then being a teacher, he got to care about his students.

"I've come upon a decision," his tone turns grave suddenly with a rekindled spark of hope this time. "There's a student, Celeste James, she's a bright student with well-maintained grades but recently she has shown a significant decline in algebra. And Mr. Harper tells me you've quite a skill in that subject."

The way his almond eyes are shining, looking at me all the while, oozing positivity, I instantly feel queasy as if my insides were churning rapidly all at once.

I can see where this conversation is headed and I swear, I have no idea whoever that James is. I don't need to know everyone in the school. My right leg starts shaking as I think of a way to escape this mind-boggling situation I'm in.

"Me? I'm good at algebra?" I play dumb when in reality I've always got an 'A' in it. But this is the first time I don't feel the need to boast about it.

"Mr. Harper is just being modest. I barely pass." I fake chuckle nervously to make my lie look more believable.

"Well, your past months' grades don't agree with what you're saying." Mr. Harrison shrugs and puts the result sheet in front of me.

"Faex!" (shit) I curse grasping the sheet from the table and I just wish my glare could burn the result as well this whole world to ashes.

"Mind your language, son," Mr. Harrison smiles like a proud teacher. I have cursed in Latin in front of him and he is smiling. What a great teacher I've got!

"I know you deliberately fail history, son. You know how to curse in Latin yet you find history difficult to pass. Double shit, Nio, double faex."

I twiddle my thumbs with embarrassment and look at my feet. Mr. Harrison knows how to bring me to the point. But then it dawns upon me.

Why the f*ck am I fretting for a situation as petty as this? This isn't my place to worry. I am Nio. The students are intimidated by me. It is that star student who should be nervous right now. 

"You can help Ms.James in algebra and she can help you in history. You'll also then learn what it feels like to be a teacher." He instructs me with a vibrating laugh and I nod, forcing a smile this time.

"I'll be waiting for her in the library in the last period," I tell him and stand up from the chair. With a small nod, I exit the class to go to the cafeteria and eat something warm. 

The December cold is seeping into my bones and we still have half of this month and a complete January ahead.

I grab the hot chocolate in a disposable cup from the fat lady at the counter along with some French fries. I sit on the deserted table there and inhale the warm steam of my drink. My body instantly feels cozy. I sip the chocolaty liquid and my brain gradually learns how to function.

However, being the unfortunate a**hole I am, Ryder comes and sits on the empty seat in front of me. His tray is overflowing with food and looking at his slim figure, I wonder where the food goes. He smiles at me and starts munching the meal.

I sigh and my shoulders slump slightly. This is Ryder's everyday routine. Whenever Logan is absent like today, like yesterday, like most of the days, Ryder comes. No matter how many times I shoo him away with a hard glare, he remains glued to his eccentric ideas to be with me. And as I have started to feel bad for beating him, I've stopped using force with him.

If I'm a tad bit lucky, everything will go well until Ryder opens his mouth to speak. But Ryder has to prove me to be unlucky by striking up a conversation.

"What's happened to your face?" He asks sipping his strawberry-flavored milk.

"None of your business," I look at my fries trying to be as less violent as possible.

"Just so you know, you look horrendous but," he gulps his sandwich, "but not as much as Logan. He looks ghastly with all those acne scars."

My eyes shoot up with surprise and I stare at him with astonishment. I would have never imagined Ryder, of all the people, to talk ill of someone. Either I'm rubbing onto the goody two shoes or being the bully Logan is, he can be said those things.

Alas, we are all damn well hypocrites. 

I mean, just this week some chirpy teacher in her sing-song voice was advising us to never make fun of anyone just because they are different. Does that rule not work for a**holes? Good Lord, we are so lucky.

I groan and run a hand over my face, accidentally pressing my bruises. I had almost forgotten about them until now. The midnight girl was nuts. I don't want to ever even walk past her. Sleeping is just off the charts. 

When I woke up at six this morning out of habit, she was sound asleep. My head was spinning and my breath stunk because I had smoked too much with her. I got out of bed, took shower, fixed myself something to eat, and did assignments. Better to be dozing off in class than to be thrown out.

Anyways, an hour and a half later, the rich girl woke up and started screaming at me because the bed was empty beside her. Does that even make sense? 

But what I grasped from all her yelling is that Loraine wanted me to set my involuntary sleep-wake cycle according to her so that when she would have woken up, she wouldn't be alone. My head is spinning again just thinking of how insane that sounds.

But that wasn't all for that b*tch, she made her guards beat me up, in my apartment. It took me fifteen minutes to get rid of them. In the end, my face still got marred and my chest bruises got refreshed.

"Who is .... What's her name?" I rake my mind to think of the name of the star student. "Yes, Celeste. Have you ever talked to her?"

"Celeste?" His expressions change for a split second. "Let me think," he says and thinks for a moment then shakes his head. "Nope, I can't recall her name whatsoever. Why?"

"I'm supposed to help her in algebra." I shrug, biting a French fry.

His eyes bulge out of his sockets with horror and I tell him that I'm pretty good in that subject. But I know what he's actually worried about.

"Angel & Kevin, the golden couple!" The students in the cafeteria start cheering.

I sip my now cold hot chocolate. I walk to the counter to take another but the big fat lady doesn't hear me correctly in the noise and hands me the strawberry flavored milk.

"I'll pay for everything!" A rich boy shouts in an amused voice and the students howl with excitement. Just then my patience cracks.

I snatch the lady's mug and smash it on the floor. The whole cafeteria falls silent. These rich kids are always money-driven. They even buy attention with money. The lady yells at me to pay up but I ignore her and look around in search of the rich boy.

I see a sea of all kinds of intimidating eyes looking away from me. Then my eyes land on her.

I see a girl with black hair and pale blue eyes. Her olive skin accentuates her eyes more and assuming that they are downturned, I wonder how they must crinkle at the edges when she would laugh. I want to see her chuckle for just a moment. Also, her aquiline nose and straight black brows are slightly creased. Her heart-shaped lips are also puckered with annoyance. 

Yet there are remnants of previous smiles near her lips and eyes. Only one word knocks at the sane part of my brain for her. 

Beautiful. 

That petite-looking girl is genuinely beautiful and I don't think she has even killed an ant.

I feel her getting somewhat frightened under my gaze and I feel a brief flash of pain shoot through my heart. She grips the hand of the person next to her.

I look beside her and immediately recognize the boy as the precious quarterback whom coach Murphy and these hungry students adore so much.

Then it clicks; they are the golden couple. The beautiful girl is Angel and the quarterback Kevin is her boyfriend.

"He said he will pay for everything."