The next day, I returned to school. Our first class was with Mrs. Thompson—Physics. Like the rest of the class, I stood outside the classroom, waiting for the bell to ring.
The bell rang, and Mrs. Thompson opened the door, ushering us inside. I took my usual seat and prepared myself for another long, uneventful lesson.
Surprisingly, I had managed to sleep a bit last night—around two hours. It wasn't much, but it was still an improvement compared to the completely sleepless nights I had before.
I yawned, stretching my arms over my head. I was still exhausted, but at this point, I was starting to get used to the feeling.
I opened my notebook and began writing as Mrs. Thompson started the lecture. Today’s topic: kinetic and potential energy. A strange sense of déjà vu washed over me, like we’d already been through this before.
I was really confused for a moment there. If we had covered this already, I would have remembered it, right? Yet, as she continued explaining, I realized I didn’t fully grasp the concept. How could energy be and not be at the same time? So, "potential energy" was just energy that might exist but hadn’t yet? I wasn’t sure if I was following her logic correctly.
Still, that nagging feeling persisted. Hadn’t we learned all this last year?
Fortunately, when it came to the calculation exercises, things were straightforward. Numbers made sense—at least to me. I breezed through that part of the lesson with little difficulty.
Break came and went by. By the second lesson Tori showed up. She was a few minutes late, and didn’t bother to apologize to the Mrs. Thompson - which she completely ignored.
Weird.
But after she settled in, her behavior was completely different from yesterday. She wasn’t loud, and she didn’t seem like she was looking for conflict. Instead, she was surprisingly quiet—no interruptions, no comments like before.
But throughout the entire hour, she did something else. She stared at me.
It wasn’t a quick glance or casual look; she fixed her gaze on me as if I were the only person in the room. She barely blinked, just sat there, completely still, watching me.
I tried to act like I didn’t notice, focusing on the lesson, but it was impossible to ignore her. I could feel her eyes on me the whole time.
Calm down, Joshua. She’ll get bored soon enough. Just ignore her like everyone else.
But my attempt at reassuring myself didn’t help much.
After what felt like an eternity, she finally stopped staring. I couldn’t help but wonder what the hell that was about. Had she fallen in love or something? Not that I’m against people liking me, but come on.
I know I’m decent-looking, but being ogled like that?
Girl, please, don’t objectify me.
When she finally gave up her creepy staring contest, her previous obnoxious behavior returned with a vengeance. She laughed out loud at random moments, still glued to her phone, watching videos. It was like the rest of the class didn’t even exist to her.
Then she started wandering around the room, leaning over other students' desks to peek at their notes. While no one openly confronted her, the tension in the room was palpable—or at least, it should have been.
Surely, I wasn’t the only one she was irritating, right? It had to be getting under everyone’s skin.
At one point, she walked right up to the blackboard, wiped away all of Mrs. Thompson’s notes—without asking—and started doodling. Rabbits. Or at least, I think they were supposed to be rabbits. Long ears, massive buck teeth, but the drawings were so bad it was hard to tell for sure.
What is she even trying to do here?
Yet again, nobody reacted to her behavior, and a surge of frustration built inside me. If she wasn’t interested in the lessons, why on earth was she disrupting the whole class?
She acted like this yesterday too, what is wrong with her?
Wait a second, nobody reacted then either. Not even me.
Why didn’t I react yesterday?
SΓΦOΦρ
Suddenly, I felt a tightness in my chest—at first, just a slight pressure, but with each passing second, it grew more intense. It was like an invisible force was squeezing me from the inside, making it harder to breathe, harder to think, harder to stay calm. My ears started ringing, and the room seemed to darken at the edges, as if reality itself was fading.
I wanted to call out for help, but the words wouldn’t come. Panic surged through me as I pushed my chair back, the scraping sound barely registering over the ringing in my head. In an act of desperation, I hit my chest with my fist, hoping to ease the pressure. It loosened—just a little—so I did it again, harder this time, and then once more.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I could breathe again. The ringing in my ears faded, and the crushing tightness in my chest disappeared, leaving behind only the dull ache where I had hit myself.
I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and slowly sat back down.
What was that? I definitely need to see a doctor. The lack of sleep must be messing with my body more than I thought.
I glanced around, half-expecting concerned stares or whispers from my classmates. But Mrs. Thompson kept droning on, scribbling equations on the board. Everyone else acted like nothing had happened. Pens scratched against notebooks, a few students whispered quietly to each other, and others just stared blankly at the front of the room.
No one had noticed a thing.
"Ahem."
The sound from my left startled me, snapping me out of my thoughts. I turned, and there, staring directly at me with wide brown eyes, was Tori.
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Tori was leaning slightly toward me, her face about 20 centimeters from mine.
"Are you alright? Is everything okay?"
Honestly, I had no idea. My chest still ached faintly from where I’d hit myself, and my head felt cloudy. I probably should’ve gone to the nurse or something; episodes like that weren’t exactly normal.
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EΞVEςςRΨTHιIιNΧG ιIιιS FιNΞΞEςς
But for some reason, I blurted out, "Yes, everything’s fine, thanks."
Tori raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it.
"It doesn't look like everything's okay,” she said, her voice dropping an octave. “I think you should come with me."
"No, no, really, everything is fine now," I replied on autopilot.
She narrowed her eyes.
"You REALLY should come with me. Right now," Her tone sharpened like a blade, and before I could protest again, she grabbed my hand, yanking me up as if I had no say in the matter.
What the hell does she want?
No. There was no way I was going anywhere with her. I didn’t need any more chaos in my life than I already had. I tried to breathe, steadying myself. Staring into her intense gaze, I said firmly, "That's not happening."
Dean's warning flashed in my mind: stay away from her. Maybe he had been right all along?
Tori let go of my hand like she'd just touched something hot. Her expression shifted into one of surprise, as if she'd suddenly become aware of what she was doing. She glanced nervously around the classroom, muttering something under her breath. I could barely catch the words, but it sounded like, "Damn, I messed up."
Without another word, she spun on her heel and bolted toward the classroom door. She yanked it open and ran out, moving like she was escaping from something.
Mrs. Thompson kept writing on the board, blissfully unaware of the whole scene. No one in the room reacted—just like they hadn't reacted to anything before. It was like I was living in a different reality.
Seriously, what the fuck?
Suddenly, a wave of exhaustion hit me really hard. My eyelids grew heavy, and the sounds around me became muffled, like I was underwater.
As I slumped onto the desk, I heard footsteps echoing down the hallway. Through the door Tori had left half-open —I glimpsed two large men in black suits and sunglasses sprinting after her. They looked like the stereotypical "men in black" straight out of some conspiracy movie.
My head felt like it weighed a ton. I let it drop onto the desk, and for the first time in days, I felt… blissful.
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I heard the bell ring and felt something wet on my face.
Lifting my head, I groaned. I had drooled all over my books while sleeping.
Apparently, I had dozed off and missed most of the lesson. Strangely, I felt better than I had in days—still tired and drowsy, but it was like the fog that had been clouding my thoughts had cleared up a bit.
I had the weirdest dream about two burly guys chasing Tori down the hallway. Looking around, I realized she wasn’t in the room.
"Hey, was Tori in class today?" I asked Max, sitting in front of me.
He glanced at me, looking puzzled. "Uh, sorry. What did you say?"
"Tori. Was she here today?"
Max gave me a strange look and shook his head. "No, I don’t think so. I haven’t seen her in a while."
That didn’t make sense. I scratched my head in confusion. So she was absent today after all?
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Despite everything, my nap seemed to have given me a second wind.
I even felt social enough to agree to go to the cinema next week with Max and some of our classmates. Dean would definitely be proud of me for this; he's always pushing me to hang out more.
Once classes ended, I stuck around for a bit to ask Mrs. Thompson some questions. I preferred clearing things up right away rather than overthinking them at home later.
By the time I left the classroom and made my way toward the lockers, the school corridors were practically deserted. No one was around, except for one person—Tori.
She was pacing back and forth near the main gate, kicking stones on the ground. As usual, she wasn’t in her school uniform. Instead, she wore a long black shirt and grey sweatpants, looking more like she was about to pick a fight than hang around a schoolyard.
She’s definitely waiting for someone.
I just really hoped it wasn’t me.
“Ah, come on, Joshua,” I muttered to myself. "Don’t be paranoid."
I tried to walk past her, pretending not to notice. Maybe she’d ignore me.
But, of course, she didn’t. The moment she spotted me, she frowned, waved, and shouted, "Hey! It’s about time! What took you so long? Everyone else is already gone. Do you know how long I've been waiting for you?"
And just like that, my worst fear was confirmed.
She was waiting for me.
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"Whatever you want to tell me, I'm not interested," I said to Tori, trying to walk past her. But she stretched out her arms, blocking my way.
"Oh no, no, no. You're going to listen to what I have to say!"
Yeah, no way. But instead of pushing through, I stood there, staring her down.
Trouble was written all over her, and I already had more than enough in my life.
We stood in silence for a moment, locked in a ridiculous staring contest—like whoever blinks first loses. A true ancient duel of wills.
A few seconds in, Tori started to look a little uncomfortable. She blinked, clearly frustrated, then took a deep breath, lowered her head, and let out an exasperated sigh.
"Please?" she asked, her voice softer this time.
"Oh, so the tough girl can say 'please'?" I shot back, a bit surprised at my own boldness. Rumours said she was involved with some gang. What if her 'friends' decide to beat me up for mouthing off? I briefly wondered, second-guessing myself.
"Hooligan?" she repeated, clearly surprised. But then a sly grin spread across her face.
"Ah yes, the whole gang story... Of course, I'm dangerous and all that." She pointed her finger at me in a mock-threatening gesture.
"So, will you talk to me for a moment? If not, I'll send my dangerous-gang people after you! Oh, you'll get into trouble!" she said, trying to sound serious. Then, quieter, she added, "Or, you know... something like that."
Her attempt at being menacing fell flat. She didn’t sound convincing at all.
But my mental guard softened at that moment. My initial reluctance slowly gave way to curiosity.
"Alright, so what’s up?" I asked.
"Huh? Did my threat actually work? Excellent!" she said, looking way too pleased with herself.
She extended her hand toward me and introduced herself, "I'm Tori, and you?"
"Wait, you don’t remember my name?" I asked, raising an eyebrow in surprise and continued:
"We’re in the same class. I’m sure you’ve heard my name before."
"Oh, give me a break. I've had a rough time lately—I might have forgotten a few things. Could you help me out?" Tori said, looking slightly exasperated, before waving her hand like she wanted to shake mine. "For example, by introducing yourself?"
Eeeeh, why not.
"Joshua. My name’s Joshua," I replied, shaking her hand.
"Nice to meet you, Josh. So, would you let me invite you on a date? Are you free this Saturday?" she asked, suddenly out of nowhere.
Huh, what?
"What?" I uttered, caught completely off guard.
"A date," she repeated, as if explaining to a clueless child. "You know, a kind of meeting where people go out with someone they're interested in. People still go on dates, right? I know a great restaurant I’d like to take you to." Her tone was baffled, like she couldn’t understand why I wasn’t getting it.
"What?" I echoed again, still in a mild state of shock.
It wasn’t one of my proudest moments, but can you blame me? It was a bit of an unexpected situation.
"Alright, listen," she said, clearly growing impatient. "Just give me your phone number, and I'll send you all the details. Don’t worry about the money for the date—I'll pay." She handed me her phone, already opened to the contacts screen.
Still slightly dazed, I mechanically punched my number into her phone. The moment she took it back, a big, satisfied grin spread across her face.
"Great, Josh, we have a date!" she exclaimed as she turned and dashed off in the opposite direction.
"It's Joshua, not Josh," I muttered under my breath. No one had ever called me "Josh" before, and it felt... weird, like it didn’t quite fit.
Well, looks like I’ve got a date now. I’m not entirely sure how I feel about it, even though it’s technically my first one ever.
Theoretically, I should be over the moon—beautiful classmate asks me out on a date, right? But something tells me her intentions aren’t exactly romantic.
She didn’t even know my name a minute ago.
With a shrug, I slung my bag over my shoulder and started heading home.
I guess I'll have to dress up in something fancy on Saturday.