Chapter 11: Chapter 11

The sound is from my irritatingly-extra-annoying alarm, ringing. I jolt up even after still realizing it's the alarm and, pull the window down, lock it. It stops, and after five minutes of snoozing, it shrieks again. I slam it with my hand. It drops down and splatter on intact with the floor. I need to lie to mom about how it got destroyed.

Before it stops working, I check it broken screen to check the time and see a less clearer six in the morning. So, I slept for very few hours. It had felt as if I hadn't slept at all.

"I'm going insane." I mumble.

Is this how mental disorder start? Lack of sleep, thinking, rather depression. I'm not depressing. Then why didn't you sleep, if you weren't depressed? Enlightens, my inner feminine troublemaker, seventeen year-old-girl. I hate to think she's right but then, she's the one with thoughts so she's probably lying to myself.

I didn't get the chance to refresh myself, that is, getting back to sleep for more time when mom hits a knock on my door. Since the analogue clock has destroyed, I check the wall clock instead... seven in the morning. I want to sleep more.

With complaint, edging my voice, I cry aloud. "Rayne wants more sleep."

"Get your ass off the bed, right now. You were in all day and night so you should have get enough sleep. I'm taking you to school today since I have the day off."

If only mom knew.

"Yes, mom."

Seven-twenty in the morning; first I felt is dampness before I bolt out of the bed. Darting my eyes to mom, she has an empty plastic bowl on her hands, no doubt she was the one who soak me wet.

"Mom!" I dramatically yell at her.

"It worked!" And her face goes straight. "Now, take your bath. I've prepared bacon and eggs already. Get down in ten minutes." She start to murmur as she walks out of the room, to the living area. I caught a glimpse of some of what she murmurs— 'sleeping like there's no tomorrow' or so.

I've been striped off the intentions of wanting to go back to sleep, so I make my way over to the bathroom. I don't feel like bathing again, so I made the decision of just washing my face and arms and legs with the milky-scented soap, mom got me during Christmas time, thrice now and I love its scent. Makes me remember how much I love milk at kindergarten but not-so-alike at this time of my age. Maybe my puberty affected it?

When I'm through, I dry myself with the same white towel with many rabbits. I lay my pajamas with PJ mask cartoon picture, printed all over it in small, repetitive decor inside the wardrobe and pick up a new dress for school.

It's a regular, casual plain brown shirt and black jeans with robes like the size of cables to hook it by the hips and not belt. I add a sandy sneakers and make sure not to forget to put a cap inside my bag because of the afternoon heavy sun and shades too.

My blonde hair is packed into a high, tight, top-knot, staying in the middle of my head and leaving strands to flop down, drawing to my neck and bit at my forehead.

Hastily putting on the dress, I make my way to the kitchen to find mom, dressed in a casual attire too— yellow polo shirt that's tugged roughly into her white skirt and a contradicting sandal of black leather. She's imperfectly perfecto.

Mom flashes me a smile of approval at my dress.

"Your food is in the kitchen."

I hurry over to the kitchen and as said, I found it covered with the same sets of silver lids of yesterday's. Opening it, I'm embedded by the benignant smell. My taste buds are already yelling "hurray!"

To cover the wasted time, I finish my food faster than I would have on early days, and join mom in a hurrying pace to the car.

Luckily for us, the traffic isn't much. When we get to two blocks away from the school building, the red light beams and we stop, as the green man, representing people crossing turns on.

Mom lowers the music and gawk sharply at me, "so, do you remember anything from day before yesterday?"

Her question ships me back to the frightening images... fangs... blood... the windows opening... the questions I want to ask the bad boy when I get to school.

Anxiousness to ask him suddenly overwhelms me once again and I try my best to push it away. I just hope he'd give me a reply, disregarding the fact that we haven't talk before and the first time fate will allow, I am suppose to be asking him lame, superstitious, stupidity-full, based-on-phantom-thought questions. My subconscious just smacks her head, shaking it at me with a lowered gaze.

"Yes, mom." I pause, and breath. "I hit my head against the floor when walking down a couple of stairs with your high heels. I had wounded my neck too in the meantime." The lie comes so easily that I fear myself for a second. I didn't know I'm this good at lying.

"Just be careful next time, okay?" She's not pressuring.

"Definitely."

The green light takes over the screen and we drive again.

At the school parking lot, mom plant me a kiss on my forehead, while I give her a peck on her cheek. She beams at me, watching me as I approach the entrance and enter.

I pass by the students, swarming the space, and cramping the area. Lots of others latches their frame against their lockers, chatting away with their friends. With a sigh of content when I sight my locker, I open it and pick my stuff.

On my hands are the series of books needed for today's class. I close the blue-painted metal door of the locker.

"Rayne!" Squeals the voice before its owner runs over to me and hugs me— a tight, big-bear hug. "Are you okay?"

I'm tired of this same set of question, but I should expect a lot of it though.

"I... am... okay, Shade. I've said it a billion time and I'm fed up."

"That's great. You cut off on me yesterday, so what did you expect?"

That... True.

"Ah, about that..." I trial off, realizing I almost spill-the-beans, let-the-cat-off-the-bag on my big secret.

"So, what class are you having?" Shade ask. She's still checking me from arm's length.

"Um... biology, physics, and calculus. Those are the ones I remember for now." I say and Shade leans on my locker— an habit common here, in Franklin regional senior high school.

"Ugh, we should have had likewise subjects. I have economics first."

"That's too bad."

"Very." Shade replies, discontentment etches her voice, and I scoff.

As we start to walk, Mia rushes to us. Her eyes are squinted with a mischievous ghost of smile, making me realize she doesn't have something serious to say. Her brunette hair sprawl over her face and she uses her hands to pull them back.

"Hi, Rayne. Nice top knot." She's ecstatic.

"Thanks." My hand reflexively goes up there to pat the knot.

She turns to Shade to gist her. I'm so out of their new league; I'd thought it was Mia at first but now, I see it's me.

"What's up?" Shade ask impatiently. It's plain in her tone and attitude. I look at them from the side of my eyes.

"The new student is here. He'll be entering soon. He's so hot. Don't worry you'd meet him soon enough." They both are giggling.

I shake my head, dramatically at them. So, it's because of a new hot student; that's why they are happy? A guy they don't know? He's a stranger to them and they should be focusing on their studies, not on boys. They are the fitted children for Mrs. Chloe.

The door opens, welcoming in a new aura of a frame. Handsome and hot-looking truthfully but wait... those ravishing golden-amber eyes, they are familiar. Someone once special and mysterious had that same set of eyes... oh my God! How can I forget Carl?

I can't believe it's him. I wouldn't have even recognized him if not because he was special to me, once— during grade five. He was my crush then, I'd look at him like there's nothing else to look at. He's changed, really changed, and so very mature. God...

Assuming if we had finish junior high school together then, I might still be in love with him. No, scratch that! I would still be in love with him— more in love with him, head-over-heels for him. He'd be my small god. Jeez!

He's radiating, making his presence known clearly and most eyes are fixated on him—another common thing here, they'd watch you like you're weird when it's the other way round—you're just too eye-catching.

We have so much in common too, maybe that'll explain the reason why I crushed over him in an unscientific and illogical way.

He's hair is fixed amazingly, parted to a side, leaving many floppy, gell-free strands to spike up his forehead; glistening shades of dark blonde like mine, finding a mysterious way to luster itself in the dim light entering the space.

A sight-worthy outfit of scarlet-red shirt, two buttons left unbuttoned, showcasing bit of his left hefty chest, inked with a tattoo, not so evident to see but I think it's something having a ring-like shape. Tight, hugged-like-a-second-skin woolen trouser cramps his legs, letting off the shape of its muscles. He's as strong as I remember. Filthy subconscious of mine invades. I snap her back inside and she scowl.

His eyelashes are thick and straight, hindering his golden-amber orbs like a protective shield and they, at the same time, manages to blend with his shaved eyebrows. They also rhyme in captivity with his shaved but slightly-hairy jaw.

Every part of his features fitted him. He still manages to steer up those affection of past time in me but I'm not so sure of the kind of feeling I'm having, perhaps reminiscence of the crush I once had for him, or new spike of affection, butterfly-in-stomach feeling?

He gazes at me and narrows his eyes, frowns, and release a light grin before he walks to the registry office, winking just in time he turns at a corner.

I turn my back to face Shade and Mia when out of the blue, she says.

"Explain."

"What?"

"You know him before or what? He just winked at you." Shade points, right away. She and her inquisitions. Can't I just avoid them for a day?

"Carl," I breath, "his name is Carl Wildlings." Then, I feel the need to clarify more.

"We both attended the same grade school and junior high school in New Zealand but then, he didn't stay long before he traveled to another country." I think it was Morocco. "Morocco or something."

"Oh, I see. Is that all you know about him?" Ask Mia this time.

"No," before they get their hope of gossiping high, I add, "that's all I wish to share. To class, girls."

Luckily for me, to accomplish my escape, the bell rings, indicating the earlier instruction I gave.

I turn to my class and stride to it.

So ungrateful, the class doesn't last long before it finishes. Most students are already sleeping but for me, I love the way the biology teacher had explained things. It was unlike the way he used to—which is obviously boring, or maybe it was truthfully boring and I just want to jolly up my day by focusing on academics instead, to forget about the thoughtful series, including Nicklaus.

Nicklaus? How did I know his name? My head burns with that question. I can't remember from any event where I had heard or knew his name from. And the most surprising part of the remembrance is that; how was I sure that that was his name?

I manage with a dull spirit to stir off the thought from me and lace the handle of my bag across my shoulders and gait to the lunchroom.

It's crowdy with folks chatting as usual, I wander to our table to find Shade and Mia, concentrating on a picture-sized frame.

I take my plate and start to pick up food when I mistakenly nudge my hand against a breakable glassy dish. Instinctively, I bend to catch it but I know on a thoughtlet side of mine that it's impossible but reversely, made possible when a hand picks it up for me.

Olive tanned skin, I accumulate when our hand brushes. I feel the warmness, it's strange. Gradually, I raise my gaze and come face-to-face with Carl. He's no less of a handsome from close-up.

I collect the dish from him, still stunned by his stunt and place it back upon the table.

"Um... thank you."

"Glad to help, " he pauses and waits for a second, "Rayne, correct?" His accent is thick and rich of a particular place. His voice doesn't sound this way few years back but then again, we've met since a long time. Perhaps he's changed.

"Yes," I wait it out for a brief while, "and you are Carl? Carl Wildlings?"

"Exactly." He scoffs and helps me pick the ketchup. I murmur a thank you. "I didn't know you'd still remember me. It's being long."

"Long time, no see. You just vanished." He chuckles at my remark, "you traveled out of New Zealand or what?" I ask even as I have already knew.

"Something like that. But I didn't vanish," it's my turn to snicker, "I changed location because of some family private matters."

"Oh." I say with awe and since I've picked everything I need, I face him, my plate in front of me, grasped in my hands at its sides.

Golden-amber eyes fixate on me. "We seriously need to talk, get along and make friendship again. What do you say?" I flush, "you still haven't learned how to take compliments." He's haste in discovering that.

He remembered that about you? He must be keeping records.

"And I hate to know you're the only one who knows about it."

"Maybe that's why I'm the special one." He grins and I flush again. He has his flirting self still, "let's meet at closing hours." He exhales.

"I can't. Um... I have a friend, whom I go home with, and I don't want to keep her waiting. She's my neighbour." I smile, innocently.

"Oh, okay, I just thought... you know, we should get to know one another better..." He trails off, giving me a kind of look, I think he's hoping that I should have gotten his lead on this conversation, but I have nothing, until...

I giggle, "oh my goodness, you're trying to offer me a ride, so we can talk!" Now I get him, and yet, I feel stupid and so slow at catching up with guy's way of approaching one with words.

"Exactly. We'll talk more then. I'll see you later, Rayne."

"I'll... see you too." I say and he turns to leave.

I feel a depth in his words apart from his normal, regular flirting words, the way he speaks my name. Well, I'm just following a random instinct so I don't know. I had a crush on him, but dating him at this time, I'm not so hundred-percent sure, because I don't know him like I used to, but I wouldn't mind. After all, he was once a small god of mine.

I take my usual seat and Shade's and Mia's gaze turns to meet mine.

"So, that was the cheesy part you didn't want to tell us about Carl and you? So naughty."

"Shade!" I bark at her and she shuts up.

"Okay, fine. I'll shut up for now."

Such a luck she didn't press for now and I have to thank the fate that escorted me this morning.

"What are you guys doing?"

"My project. Mia is helping me out when you are not." Shade rolls her eyes.

I stop biting my lower lips. "I don't have a thing for art, so I'll be a bad company if I'm to join. Mind if I see?"

"Hmm." Shade passes the frame to Mia, who carefully collects it at its wooden sides and passes it to me.

"Careful." Mia instruct. I take the frame and examine it. It's a fine painting of an opening lotus if I'm right. The bright rays of the sun— without it showing itself cascade down onto the child flower. The lotus is opened in the drawing, its petals are on full display, having their usual beautiful, yellow top colour.

I stare at it for seconds, nodding my head before I pass it back to Mia.

"It's beautiful and captivating. The company you told me about yesterday wanted you to draw it?"

"Yeah. They are going to review it. If they accept it, my dreams will definitely come true then." She goes thoughtful, reeling into her imaginations. I smile along with her and Mia.

After the lunch period, I find my other classes with ease without having to call someone to direct me like it had been for all of last week. It's my second week at Franklin.

After the bell rang, I make my way out of class and straight to the hallway, then, dash right to my locker. It's been a long, yet short day.

I stock some of my books and writing materials back into the locker and lock it with my new password.

Striding to the exit to go and join Shade, a familiar voice calls behind me.

"Rayne."

"Hey, Carl." I answer, while crossing my bag across my shoulder. "You good?"

"Sure. You?" he chuckles.

"Yeah."

We pause, as we walk in sync to the door.

He start, "so what are you doing now? I mean, you're going home, right?"

"Yeah. I'm going to meet up with my friend, Shade. You must have met her." I tilt my head to a side, eyeing him.

"Yeah, isn't it the brown-skined girl with black and purple hair, braided?"

Woah!

"Yeah, exactly. You have a great sense of description. I wonder how you'll describe me." I don't know why I include that.

He looks taken a bit aback but continues."Well more beautifully and spectacularly."

I flush again. Okay, maybe I still have the crush affection whatever thing. It's not like it is wrong of me to flush anyways. He's not bad, rather he's more beautiful, taller than I am by few inches, so he's not towering over me too much— I tend to like it that way.

His voice calls me back to earth. "You know I said we should catch up, how about you go and tell your friend that I'll be taking you home," as if he's actualized something, he quickly adds. "Why didn't you even bring your car in the first place?"

How does he even know I have a car in the first place? He's still mysterious. Says, my subconscious—so low like a whisper. I have to agree with her.

"I don't know. I just didn't. Why did you ask?"

"Nothing, just caring for your car. She must have missed you." I laugh at that.

"I'll go and tell Shade that I have other plans."

I start to leave when his voice stops me. "Hope I didn't alter anything?"

"Not at all, Carl Wildlings."

A ghost of a cheeky smile emits on his face and I walk out of the exit, going to Shade's car. Damn, he's so hot. Nicklaus has have a competitor at school now. I decide not to pay attention to that thought.

Shade and Mia are chatting about something related to the project when I approach them and when they sees me, they acknowledges, and flashes me a grin.

"Hey, cherry pop."

"Another nickname, uh?" I ask and Shade nods. "Um, can I see you for a minute, Shade?"

"Sure."

She excuses herself and walk few steps with me, away from Mia.

"What's wrong?"

"Um, nothing. I want to ask you something," how do I say this? "Do you, like in anyway, tell me the name of the Originals guy?"

"The bad boy? Not that I remember of, nope. Why?"

"Nicklaus is his name, yeah?"

"Yeah?" Shade's tone holds uncertainty. She doesn't know where all this is going. I'm not much of a different too, blindfolded as well.

"I seem to know his name without having heard it before."

"Are you sure I didn't tell you at the school party? Maybe I didn't remember 'cause I was drunk?"

"You didn't. Yeah, he was there but the minute we got in, after the shots, you've gone off, drunk, and dancing away with Mia. I didn't have the chance to ask. And that was how I left without being able to tell you."

"But are things alright? Why are you so adamant on rooting out how you know his name? Are you still having concussions?"

"No, I'm fine. Um, thanks. I'll catch up with you later. Got a ride with an old friend." I lean closer and pull Shade into a sharp hug.

She doesn't hesitate to hug me back. When I pull back, she says.

"With the hot Wildlings?" She wiggles her brows.

"With the hot Wildlings. Got to go." I pick up a pace and run back to the entrance door when I hear her rants, making her earn attentions from the few students around.

"You better gist me tomorrow or else I'm gonna come to your house and haunt you so badly."

I smile, running off.