《Darkling》21| Change
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Daisy and I were sitting at our table for dinner. "Why do you keep looking at the door?" she asked.
"No reason," I shrugged, tapping the chopsticks against my plate to level them out before grabbing a dumpling.
"Are you waiting for someone to walk in here?"
"No," I said, stuffing my mouth with the entire dumpling.
She looked at me weirdly, taking a bite out of hers.
The doors opened and Callum and Wyatt walked in. And then I choked.
"Jesus, are you okay?" she asked, opening my bottle of water and handing it to me.
I nodded, drinking a few sips.
Callum was busy talking to Wyatt as they got in line, then they grabbed their food. He stopped and started scanning the room.
"Stop staring at him!" Daisy whisper-yelled.
"I'm not staring at anyone," I scoffed, looking back at her.
She shot me a pointed look and then rolled her eyes, shaking her head.
"Shut up, he's cute," I mumbled, looking back at him.
"That's not what everyone else thinks."
"Everyone doesn't talk to him. Ask Wyatt, he'll agree with me," I argued.
Callum spotted me, smiling softly. He started walking over with Wyatt and then...
"Enjoying your dinner?"
"Uh oh," I mumbled, watching as Atticus blocked his way.
"What do you want?" Callum asked, rolling his eyes. Everyone quieted down at their tables and turned to look at them and listen to their conversation.
"Going to sit with her, aren't you?" Atticus asked.
"What are you talking about?"
Atticus turned around, pointing straight at me. "Little Miss New Girl," he chuckled.
I shuffled in my seat, looking down at my plate.
"What is your problem?" Callum asked, lifting a brow at him. "That she doesn't want to be friends with or that she doesn't like you?"
Atticus stepped closer to him almost threateningly but Callum didn't seem too bothered.
"There are rules set by the principal, you know? Be careful," Callum taunted him, smiling smugly. Which from the looks of it, he really shouldn't be doing. Unless he's looking for trouble.
"I'm not scared to break the rules, Callum," Atticus replied.
"You should be. We both know how your dad would react if he found out," he replied.
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"We should get out of here," Daisy whispered. We both slowly and quietly stood up.
"Sit down!" Atticus yelled, startling us both.
I fell back into my seat, pushing my tray away while Daisy did the same. I looked over, my eyes meeting Callum's.
"Don't yell," he said, looking back at Atticus, his jaw clenching.
"Or what?" Atticus stepped even closer. The only thing separating them is the tray in Callum's hand.
Atticus glanced down at the tray then turned to look at me. I watched and sat still. I didn't know what else to do. Then Atticus put his hand under the tray and smacked it out of Callum's hand. All the food fell and the tray landed on the floor with a loud clatter. And he did it so suddenly that it startled everyone, and everybody gasped.
Callum rolled his eyes and moved to walk around him, but Atticus grabbed his sleeve and pulled him back, punching him straight in the face. Callum sighed, wiping his thumb over the cut that's bleeding on his bottom lip.
"Mr. Sylvaine!" Everyone turned to the door where the principal stood, her arms folded across her chest, her stance extremely defensive. She's fuming. "In my office, right now!"
Atticus walked past Callum, bumping into him intentionally.
"Let's get out of here," Daisy said, standing up.
I stood up with her, watching Callum as I put my tray away. She walked to the door and I walked to him. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," he nodded, rolling his tongue over the cut.
"You're bleeding." I reached up to touch it but Daisy came and grabbed my hand.
"Clara, let's go!"
"But he's—"
"He'll be fine. Come on." She started pulling me with her. I glanced at Callum one last time before leaving with Daisy.
What the hell was all that even about? Why would Atticus do something like that?
He's normally the one who steers clear of Callum, why would he cause such a scene tonight?
"Clara!" Both Daisy and I halted, spinning around. Callum jogged over, stopping right in front of me.
"Clara, come on." Daisy pulled at me again.
"Why? He wants to talk," I whined, pulling my arm out of her grasp.
"We have to go!" she argued, tugging at my sleeve.
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"Where? To bed?"
She sighed.
"That's what I thought. I'll get to my room, don't worry. Go," I sang, pushing her towards the staircase.
"But you—"
"I'll be okay," I reassured her.
She huffed, running a hand through her hair while swiveling on her feet and leaving.
I turned to him. "Yes?"
"Nothing," he cleared his throat. "I'll walk you upstairs, come on."
I blinked in confusion. "You... came out of the cafeteria just to walk me upstairs?"
"Yeah," he shrugged.
"That must hurt," I said, pointing to his lip.
"Yeah, it does actually," he mumbled, touching the pad of his finger lightly on the lip.
"Don't do that!" I pulled his hand down. "It'll get infected. When you get to your room just clean it with some alcohol wipes. Or a hot towel, okay?"
"I don't um, have alcohol wipes."
"Why? They come with the first aid kit that's in every room," I frowned in confusion.
"I uh, I must have lost mine, I don't know."
"The whole kit?" I deadpanned as we walked upstairs.
He shrugged again.
"Come to my room, I'll clean it for you."
"Okay," he smiled.
I rolled my eyes, trying not to smile. "But tell me, why the hell did Atticus do all that?"
"How would I know?" he retorted.
"Don't play dumb. Unless you really don't know and you guys just go around punching each other for no reason. Do you?"
He shook his head.
"Exactly. So? What happened?"
"I really don't know. Maybe something from the past pissed him off. Again," he cleared his throat awkwardly.
"I'll never know what really happened between you two. Will I?"
"Maybe when the time is right."
I pulled my keys out and unlocked the door, heading to the bathroom to wash my hands and grab the first aid kit from under the sink. He was standing at my desk, looking out the window so that's where I went. I put the kit on my desk and opened it, taking out the alcohol wipes and tearing out a tiny piece. "Come here."
"I can do it," he said, trying to take the wipe.
"Your hands are dirty. I just washed mine. Come here."
"Clara, really. I can—"
I grabbed his shirt, pulling him down. He stepped closer and leaned down. I frowned, looking at the cut.
I gently pressed the wipe to it and he winced. "I forgot how much this hurts," he mumbled, pulling away.
"Just count to ten," I said, pulling him back down. He closed his eyes, wincing while I quickly cleaned his lip and then threw the wipe away. "I'll just put some vaseline on it. That way it'll heal." I opened the tub of vaseline and got some on my finger. I swiped it over his bottom lip, then the top. "Hmm, there," I smiled, wiping my finger on a tissue and then throwing that too. "All done. I'll go put this back." I turned to leave with the first aid kit but he grabbed my wrist, pulling me back.
"Thank you," he said softly.
I nodded, "No problem."
You know, earlier today when we were on the balcony that went through the library, I was thinking about how nice he is. I thought he was cute and I wanted to be friends with him. Well, I've wanted that since day one.
But now, I think I'm having a change of heart. I really am having a change of heart because I don't know if I want to be his friend anymore. I know I've only known him for a week, but he seems nice. Like really nice. But also really alone. Maybe I'm just getting sucked deeper into solving the mystery that is him, but I also really like him.
Like really like him. Obviously, I can't tell him shit. We barely know each other right now. But maybe we can get to know each other better over the course of time and maybe something could happen between us.
Maybe.
Otherwise, we can always just stay friends.
"Anything else?" I asked, snapping him out of his thoughts, making him look up at my eyes. Only then did I realize that he was looking at my lips earlier.
"Nothing," he mumbled, stepping back. "I just wanted to remind you to stay away from Atticus. After the library, I thought maybe you wanted to be friends with him."
"I did," I nodded. "But I'm pretty sure it's best to steer clear of him. Especially after tonight," I cleared my throat. "Hey, you didn't get to eat. After the whole... you know. Do you want to go back?"
"It's okay. I wasn't that hungry anyway," he shrugged.
"Oh okay."
"I'll let you be. Um, goodnight," he nodded, heading for the door.
"Goodnight," I called after him as he left. "Bye darlin'. Bye hun'," I sighed to myself, leaning my hip against the desk.
.
.
.
.
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