My lunch discussion with Principal Temple continued up through and past our study hall period. She had mainly wanted to review and go over everything I had discussed with Gunderson or was supposed to have discussed with him. I think she might have been worried the FBI was going to start investigating the school or that she herself might somehow have been liable or something.
Mrs. Temple had also mentioned receiving a phone call from my mother asking to verify my activities on Monday afternoon. So now, there was another person who knew Gunderson was acting as my personal chauffeur that day. Thankfully, Principal Temple didn’t seem to care one way or the other about an agent of the FBI giving me a ride home, as she didn’t seem to dwell on it.
After our meal was finished and we were both thoroughly stuffed with sushi, I made my way out of her office so I could make it in time for my afternoon classes. One of which was the previously discussed English class with Mr. Gomez. I’d resolved during my extended talk with Principal Temple to get to the bottom of whatever was going on with that strange girl, who for some reason, appeared in my dream.
Quickly, I made my way through the packed hallways, dodging bodies and backpacks that all seemed to be moving around at random, chaotic intervals and angles in the confined pathway between the lockers that adorned the school’s walls. My locker was still a fair ways away from the front office area I was coming from, so I had to almost dash to get there, all the while avoiding the teenage human-shaped obstacles in my way.
After I finally arrived with the sneakers on my feet screeching to a halt, I quickly, with practiced ease, input the combination to my locker and practically ripped it open. The inside of my locker was kept pretty neat and organized, as I usually was with most of my things. I had a printout of my class schedule taped to the inside of the door, with a small photo of me, Beth, and Scott hanging out together, tucked into the upper right corner.
Grabbing my backpack and swapping out the books that I needed, I looked through the few other materials and objects still sitting inside my locker. While a lot of other girls might have had a bag or purse filled with things like lip gloss, cover-ups, or different makeup, I generally couldn’t be bothered with all that stuff. I will admit though, that I did keep an emergency stash of cover-up for any zits I might get, just in case. There was also a well-hidden stockpile of hygiene products, but that was really as far as it went for personal needs items in my locker. The rest of the things were devoted almost entirely to schoolwork; pencils, pens, rulers, calculators, and extra reference books I bought to help with projects and to give me an edge in studying for any tests.
All in all, it painted a picture of a pretty nerdy girl, but I didn’t mind. It wasn’t an unfair or untrue judgment, especially since I was the one making it about myself.
Slamming my locker closed, I turned to see Beth and Scott both standing right there beside me and just staring at me.
“Gah!” I squeaked while jumping backwards a bit, and almost dropping the books I was holding. “What are you two doing just standing there? Are you trying to give me a heart attack or something?”
“We thought it’d be funny.” Beth casually informed me. “Plus, you missed lunch and study hall, so we wanted to see what was up.”
“Yeah, I heard you got called down to see the principal again, so we were kinda worried about what had happened.” Scott explained.
“Ah, nothing special. She just wanted to talk about everything that was going on with me.” I replied as I recomposed myself. “She also wanted to know what the FBI’s plans were, for what had happened at the party.”
“Oh yeah, what did you say?” Beth prompted.
I shrugged back. “I told her what I knew, nothing really. As far as I was told, the FBI isn’t planning on investigating things any further, and whatever happened will be left to local officials to deal with.
“Makes sense.” Scott concluded. “So all she wanted was to ask you more questions then?”
“Well, and she….” I scratched the back of my head nervously.
“She…?” Beth asked with confusion and curiosity warring with each other in her expression.
“She kinda let me eat a whole bunch of sushi she had ordered for lunch.” I quickly blurted out.
“What!?” They asked in loud incredulous voices.
“Shh!” I reprimanded them. “I know, it was a surprise for me too, but listen, as weird as that was, I wanted to ask you guys something.”
This was an excellent opportunity, even if we didn’t have much time to talk about it right now.
“Alright…” Beth replied hesitantly.
“Let’s, uh, walk while we talk.” I instructed.
They both obediently followed me, but both of them still seemed surprised about the expensive lunch I’d just had, and also the mysterious topic I suddenly insisted on talking with them about.
As we were walking at a brisk pace to where I needed to go next, I turned to them and asked. “So, do either of you know much about a girl named Mira Torres?”
“Mira Torres…nope, can’t say I really know her, heard the name before, but never really talked with her.?” Beth responded first.
“Yeah, I know a little bit about her, but isn’t she the one you were…asking me about at the party.” Scott replied slightly more hesitantly.
“Yeah, I mean, I, uh, I still want to talk with her, but I only just now learned her name.” I said to them while trying to keep a steady walking speed down the hallway. “Apparently, she’s been in my English class for like over a month now, since school started, and I didn’t even realize it. I mean, I was asking you and other people who this random mysterious girl was, and it turns out she’s in my class. How does that happen?”
“Well, you can be a bit…focused at times.” Beth carefully pointed out.
“Focused?” I asked her with a bit of heat in my voice.
“It’s not always a bad thing, but it can sometimes lead you to ignore…certain details about people and stuff that’s not related to studying or doing homework.” Scott said, plainly pointing out my faults. I felt a mixture of irritation and embarrassment at being called out like this. But at the end of the day, they were my friends, and they were only saying these things to try and help me.
Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.
“Am I really that bad?” I asked a bit softly.
“I mean, you remember that time Rodney asked you out, and you turned him down?” Beth said, casually dropping a bomb on me.
“What the frick, no!?” I said in both shock and horror.
“Yeah, I remember that, you didn’t even really turn him down. You just kind of ignored him and mumbled something about studying for an upcoming test.” Scott elaborated on my ever more obvious handicap while starting to laugh. “He was just left standing there stupefied while you just kept walking to your next class.”
Was I really that terrible? God, what else had I missed.
“Uh, I’ll try to do better in the future.” I resolved.
“Well, good luck with that, and also for hunting for a girl you already know, I guess.” Beth told me as she and Scott walked past the classroom door I had stopped in front of.
Waving goodbye to them, I stepped inside Mr. Gomez's classroom. I tried to do a casual and surreptitious look around the room as I made my way over to my seat.
There, all the way in the back left corner, sat a certain girl with long black hair with purple tips. She had her head turned, avoiding making eye contact with anyone that walked into class and might have inadvertently looked in her direction. That worked out just fine for me, but staring at her did seem to leave me oblivious to the other things that were happening around me.
“Ms. Morrow.” A commanding voice said, stopping me in my tracks.
“Huh?” Was all I could respond with.
The voice belonged to my English teacher, Mr. Gomez.
“I said, how have you been holding up? But this would be the third time I asked you that question while you walked past me.” He informed me, further compounding the theory about my chronic spaciness.
“Oh, uh, fine, Mr. Gomez.” I replied with as much calmness and politeness as I could muster.
“That’s good to hear. I was worried about you after hearing all the rumors and reports about what happened last Thursday.” He said, a bit more warmly this time.
“Ah, thank you. That’s nice of you to worry, but I’m fine, really.” I lied, but I felt like I was becoming more practiced at it these days.
Skills Updated!
Deception 38 => 39
Awareness 14 => 15
Well, it seems like the blue box agreed and also felt like piling on the ‘Jenni doesn’t notice things' bandwagon. I mean really, 14 and now 15 for awareness. That had to be a mistake, right?
“Well, I’m sure you’ve heard this from others as well, but if you ever need someone to talk to, feel free to come see me at anytime after class.” Mr. Gomez said with a kind smile on his usually stern face.
“Ah, thanks.” I said, feeling anxious from hearing that offer again. “I’ll be sure to do that.”
I quickly hurried to my seat on the right side, feeling a little bit bad about brushing off his sincere offer to help me. It was kind of him to offer it, but he wasn’t any more equipped to listen to my problems than anyone else who had said that to me so far.
It wasn’t long after that the bell rang, before Mr. Gomez started up his lecture for class.
Today, he seemed to be going into literature from early 20th century America, specifically plays and other literary works from and for theater.
I’d taken out my notebook and pencil, and began diligently taking as many notes about what he was going over as I could. After about half an hour of class time, he paused to go back to his desk and picked up a stack of papers.
“So, I’m sure you’re all excited to hear what your next big assignment is going to be for this class.” He boldly announced to the assembled group of teenagers.
The group of unruly youths promptly gave him a subdued “Boooo...”
“I know, I know, but hopefully, this next part will temper your lack of enthusiasm somewhat.” He paused his explanation briefly for added dramatic effect. “For this assignment, you’ll be allowed to work with a partner, and I’ll even be nice enough this time to leave the decision of who to work with, up to you.”
“Hurray!” Exclaimed the slightly more animated mass of teenage spectators.
“Okay, it’s nice that you’re so excited about that, but for today just collect one of these sheets here that I’m holding.” He said while gesturing slightly with the stack of papers in his hand. “Look for a partner to work with, but in an orderly and calm fashion. Otherwise, you and I will be spending some time together in detention this afternoon.”
Leaving his threat lingering in the air, he remained quiet, anticipating the oncoming commotion that a room full of teenagers trying to organize themselves would make.
True to expectation, after a few moments, chairs were pushed away from desks, voices were raised, and people started to move about the classroom.
Instead of joining in the jockeying for a partner, I already knew who I wanted to work with, and I stood and prepared to make her my offer.
Before I could, though, a boy’s voice stopped me from hurrying over.
“Hey, uh, Jenni.” Luke's unusually timid voice said. “So, uh, do you maybe wanna work together or something. I know you, um, get perfect grades and stuff, so I was hoping you’d maybe wanna work together.”
“Huh, oh uh, no thanks.” I briskly told before immediately dismissing whatever he had said from my thoughts as I continued to make a beeline for the dark-haired girl in the corner.
“Tsk, well, fine then. I didn’t even really wanna be your partner anyways.” Luke said toward my quickly departing form.
Approaching the still-seated and solitary girl, it wasn’t long before she noticed my swift approach in her direction. At first, she attempted to avoid eye contact and hunch over to give off a don’t notice or look at me vibe. Once she realized that her plan had failed, she gave me the same look of annoyance and fear that she had when I tried to talk with her at the party.
Coming to a halt at her desk, I politely cleared my throat and said. “Hi there, I’m Jenni. Would you like to work together with me on this project?”
Standing there with a polite smile on my face, I patiently waited for her response. One second, then three, five, ten, and finally, after almost thirty seconds of just staring back at me with a complex expression written on her face, she finally said.
“That depends. Are you here to arrest me, or to kill me.”