When her body weaves through the columatic rows, her perfect hips swished from one side to another. Her small body plopped down in the seat infront of mine in the near dead of the classroom.
I stay so secluded from the rest of the class because the window was here. Which meant that because there was a creak always in the seal during class a chilled gentle breeze would plow against my back and anyone else's that rested near it.
As I sat there my eyes begun to burn right in its sockets. Ever since she'd slowly dragged down the ile I hadn't blinked once while I sat ogling at her. As every second blended with every minute I awaited her to turn around and ask me for a pencil. When she did she'd notice it was me. I knew she would
As I sat watching her every movement and every twirl of her luscious blacken browned locks I could begin to smell her sweet aroma curl again my nose. Every time she'd look down I'd catch a glance of her whiter than life skin as it covered her organs and bones.
Something about me was drowned with fascination of how something built through the same nature that built murderers, rapist, and the disease of alcoholism, could make something as perfect as her. Sammie that is.
"Hey" something spoke. At first I had no idea who was talking to me. I was more interested in who wasn't and the layers of skin that were in between our touch several months ago.
Again the voice repeated itself. I sighed, did no one know how to take a hint anymore? I removed my eyes from the back of her head realizing that it had shifted a little so that I was now in her peripheral vision. And rather she was looking at me or the wall it was enough to feel her.
"Huh?" I question looking at her turned eyes. From where I could see in her slighted head position, her eyes were a pale shade of blue. So pale she represented the tint of a dead persons lips that they sported so unknowingly proud.
"When is she going to stop talking?" Her voice whispered. Even though to everyone else in the room she appeared to sound as quiet as the drizzle that snuck up to a house when it originated fields away; but to me, she sounded like a roaring hurricane that fed off of the annoyance in fear.
"No idea, she tends to go on and on about the fielded relations of relevance in numbers. Like how 2 has a infinitive relation with 4. 4 is forever impaired with 5. As 1 has an even inferior submissive relationship with all numbers. From the growth of --"
"1.5 to 2.0, 4.0 to 4.5. Either way the relations In the numbers deal with one. As if it is in tense of one tenth, one hundredth, one millionth etc. All numbers have theoretical relationships with the abundance of One." She finished. She was now turned towards me and I'd have yet to had heard something more perfect leave out of a females mouth.
"It's almost as if it is the same principals life."
"Everyone depends on their one."
"Rather it's their superstitions, fear of eternity, fear of fears --"
"Thrive of Escaption."
"But in order to Escape you have to pursue Execution."
"Not if you haven't already preserved your Preservation. Then all that is left is --"
"Immortalness?" This time I was the one that had cut her off. And this time she just looked at me. No sounds no movement just a glintful stare that opened doors for future challenges or theoretical concept.
Instead of challenging my open statement she just nodded letting a slant grin creep against one of her lips. Her soft luxuriated lips. Her lips were tinted the same way they had been at that party except this time a little lighter. I'm sure the candles added the dark effect.
"I'm Sammie." She said tapping her finger against the desk. Her eyes left my face as they watched her hands. Kind of in a way people did when they didn't want to open a door to something they weren't used to. Those types of changes that contradicted the principals your life had been guided by. Somewhat like a Catholic virgin being stripped of her purity for lust.
"I know." I said finally low and cherishful. It was kind of odd that she was reintroducing herself to me when she'd been the very chant that had impaired my mind in several occasions. Her eyebrow raised in question when id realized that our conversation was not as sacred as I had thought.
"August, Samantha.. Maybe the two of you would enjoy enlightening the class of your such deeply improved conversation." My teacher Ms. O'Donald asked. When she talked you could hear the shudder in her throat that hummed when she talked. It was open evidence of her battle with cigarettes .
Sammie's eyes rolled as her body turned to face the old hag. She ha drawn her fingers away from the desk pulling the up to her lips.
"If I opened my mouth in enlightenment of this school, more the less this class, I'd get sent off to some human testing facilitation. They'd watch the way I move just like they watch animals when they test makeup products on them. So no Ms. O'Donald, I would not wish upon the enlightenment of this class." She spoke. The night if seen her I didn't think she was so intellectually enlightened. But she was... So why did she repeat her name to me?
Meanwhile as I stared blankly at both Sammie and Ms. O'Donald, Ms. O'Donald sharply looking for me to her then to the rest of the class that continued to stare at us. "I would like to see the both of you after class immediately!"
And then everything returned back to its normal settledness when she started back lecturing. I continued to stare at the back of Sammie's head waiting for her to turn around and see me. While every now and then she'd glance down in her messenger bag letting a soft light illuminate her face from her phone.
After the other half hour of the relations of algebraic equations, why brackets are brackets, and who determined all of this anyway; Sammie turned to me for the second time during this class acknowledging that she had not forgotten that we had to stay after class.
"What does she usually do about these types of things?" She questioned nonchalantly. Her body stood up and as soon a she did I could identify all the little tiny chill bumps that had rose from the breeze against her arms.
"You like the breeze.?" I said more as a statement then a question.
"I'm here aren't I?" She questioned getting up moving to Ms. O'Donald. Here she was again answering questions with questions. Come I think of it... It was getting very interesting. She was here wasn't she? But what does her being here have anything to do with her sitting near a old rusted cracked window?
When she walked it was like she tried not to attract as much attention as she did. But when she actually walked it was like an earthquake cracking a playground between two children. You want to run to your friend and hold them so tightly you can't breath. But you don't realizing your risking your life to jump over that crack. Then later you realized you could've just went the long way around the crack. The safe, the careful way. If that makes sense.
I got up mockingly walking quickly behind her. When I walked I knew she saw something completely different from what everyone else saw in me. Something completely different then what id even seen in me. Because, when her head turned in hopes that I was behind her she looked up in my eyes just like the way she did at that party. Like she could see through me and the appearance I went to bed in and put on in the morning. She looked deeper in me then she did the night of the party.
"The two of you have disrupted my class with your teenage talk and then declined my offer to get out of the predicament by announcing to the class what was so talk worthy." Ms. O'Donald continued, "So now I'm going to give you another offer, and if you decline this one the two if you will be suspended."
I looked at Sam waiting for her to talk us into deeper mess but she didn't, she just stood there waiting for her to continue.
"As punishment, the two of you will be reorganizing the left wing of the library." She stated. At first Sam didn't say anything just a faint smile came to her lips. God if she only knew how big the left wing was.
"Let's go umm.." She looked at me for guidance
"August." I comforted as she stormed out of the room. So I followed her, even though she didn't technically say my name.
"Why'd you leave the party so early?" I asked finally and she stopped turning around to face me.
"What party?" Her eyebrow raised looking up to me and me looking down to her.
"The one, at the start of summer. The candles."
"Ugh, Candles? You weren't there."
"Yeah I was we--" she stopped me raising her hand then moving towards the library.
"What does this left wing look like?" She said before answering her own question as she plowed through the door. Her eyes widened taking in the legendary landscape. Over 20 rows of exceptionally full bookshelves taller than the both of our heights together. Considering she probably didn't know, the left wing was one of the two libraries at this school. The right wing was just a science lab sized wing that held all of the text books, teachers manuals, cookbooks, class set reading books and the faculty meeting room.
But, the Left wing was full of thousands of books. It was so big that they had two bathrooms in it, a water fountain, and a cameras. But the reason this one was so out of order and trashed was because there was A camera. Not two, not five but one. And it's peripheral vision only circled the Judy B section, the bathrooms, the flat screen that played movies when a class watched them, and the door.
"Dude... Why is this so big?" She asked with her mouth still open.
"I mean... It is the library." I stated walking to look around.
"We're spending all of her class period here?"
"Until it's all cleaned up."
She looked around then watched the camera as it begun to circle to the Judy B section and the Bathroom. Her eye rose with a wicked grin raising against her lips.
"How many cameras are in here?" She asked now with her attention back to me.
"Only one. But what about that party and you kissing me." I stated trying to make my voice sound deep but it only came out as a whisper.
"Are you crazy.?" She barked she moved out of the library leaving me to myself then she peaked back in.
"I remember the party but I don't remember you."
A/N : Short chapter but it's something. The next will be written in Sam's POV. I'd love if someone made a second cover, a banner, or a book preview. I'd love it. Please vote!
Question: Why do you think Joseph called August Danny boy?