TO KILL IS TO SERVE

Chapter 17: The Classmates

 I groaned and covered my face from Alora’s glances. She’s been staring at me, with those eyes full of nothing but pure curiosity. I f*****g hate that kind of face—not adoration, not contemplation, not bloodlust, not hatred, but just curiosity. This is probably because of what happened yesterday night and she doesn't want to directly ask me about it.

“Okay, so who is your favorite realistic artist of today’s generation?” I heard Miss Cherrie asked. I lowered my head to avoid her glances as well. “Let’s see…” She began scanning the class, looking for someone to answer her boring question. “Grei Grazer.”

I flinched when I heard my name for getting called in a recitation is not something my instincts can detect. I stood up, randomly thinking of any artist that I could remember. “I don’t know... Alora Weller?” I answered and got back to my seat, leaving everyone groaning by my answer, but not Miss Cherrie. I faced Alora, who is probably annoyed by what I did. “Well—” but what I saw was a pair of eyes glimmering, cheeks blushing and lips smiling from ear to ear. “Alora?” I called her and she jumped from her seat. She is flustered.

“You should’ve said Kyle Lambert if you don’t know who to say… You gravely disgraced the hyper-realistic artists!” She grumbled and crossed her arms, now facing the front. I chuckled. She doesn’t look unhappy and mad at all. I thought, hearing her mumbling things about how that Kyle Lambert painted a hyper-realistic art using an iPad. She is just flustered.

“Next time.” I replied and she rolled her eyes.

“I am done with the painting.” Alora spoke and I turned to her. Painting? “You see, some artist says they paint and do art because they’re inspired.” She randomly dropped a trivia. I nodded for I don’t have anything to say and just waited for her to add more. Her smiling face slowly faded along with the time passing. “But I think, I’m different. Why do you paint, Grei?” She suddenly turned to me and asked me a question I don’t f*****g know the answer to.

I shrugged and clicked my tongue as a reason has arrived in my head. “I kind of don’t like the reality I am in—”

“Same.” She cut me off and giggled a bit. “I draw not because I am inspired, but because I wish I were and everything were a drawing and that I were in that hyper-realistic painting.” She added and ended with a smile.

She paints because she wants whatever she paints becomes her reality? So does it mean she wanted to go back to her friendship with Manasseh and Hanie?

“Does it mean fantasies are better for you?” I asked but got no answer in return for she’s already scribbling on her newly brought eraser. She once told me she likes buying erasers and draws on them.

I was about to lower my head and rest it on my arm-desk when I felt my phone vibrating. That phone. While biting my lower lip, I slid my hand unto my pocket, getting the phone out carefully without getting caught. I hid my work phone using my bag as I read the text message that I just received from Cool Cat. I specifically told her not to contact me in the day. That f*****g techy feline obviously doesn’t listen.

Greetings! The data is already gathered. But something came up. Meet me a bit later at the same place. Maybe around 7? Sorry. –CC

I exhaled in displeasure and sent her a two periods. That doesn’t mean anything but yes or okay.

The morning class ended 30 minutes earlier and as far as I observe, no one’s been bothering Alora for almost a week already. After what I did to Damian last Monday, he already withdrew out, bringing his servants he brought in this class with him. The four of them who don’t really go to art school to learn but just to play and have fun bullying and craps. Not that I do, though. But whatever. The ladies have been distancing themselves as well, after what happened last Monday. They believed that I can hit them if they won’t stop… therefore, they did stop.

People here are easy to converse with.

“What did your father said yesterday?” I randomly asked Alora, who’s now persistently staring at me. “Did he scold you for being home late?” She’s done drawing the both sides of her eraser so she doesn’t have anything to put on her energy anymore. I wonder how she could live daily while mourning for Hanie when she’s already having a hard time suppressing her energy.

“He did not.” She shook her head. “But he asked me—” She stopped when the bell rang, indicating that we can have our afternoon break. “Should we eat some…thing…” Her voice lowered and her glances crawled up, behind me.

I felt and heard someone walked towards us from behind. Based on the sound of the heels and the smell, I know it is—

“Alon, can we talk now?” Manasseh asked Alora. I turned to look at him to confirm my guess for the second time. I’ve got it right. “You’ve been avoiding me since yesterday. You know we need to talk, right?” He glanced at me and then, back to Alora. “Privately.” Do I look like someone who would eavesdrop on your boring conversation? How dare he assume that I will do laughable things just to finish this deal already?

­-

Why the hell are they taking too long to talk? I fidgeted my fingers while waiting for Alora. “It’s almost time for our last session for the day and the two aren’t here yet.” I mumbled. I have been having this calling that maybe Manasseh is a predator as well—if that happens, everything is f****d up.

“I’m going to tell mom, then.” It’s Manasseh’s voice, drawing nearer to the door. He sounded glad for some reason. “See you later, Alon!” Their heels and unique ways of walking confirmed my conclusion that they’re about to enter the room.

Both of them entered the back door right before Miss Cherrie did at the exact time I assumed. Alora seemed pissed and uneasy. She slouched on her arm-desk right after taking her seat.

I smiled, unnoticed. Alora would be the first prey to deny on its predator, then. I thought and glanced at Alora. “What’s wrong?” I whispered while looking at her. She buried her head on her desk, shaking it. I chuckled and copied her position of placing my head on the arm-desk. “What’s wrong?” But to see things and setups as they are right now, Alora might actually be the predator, and not Manasseh.

Alora shifted her face and looked at me, “I was invited to a dinner later tonight.” She whispered and swiftly peeked upwards, at Manasseh. “I didn’t want to go but he already told my old man and Hanie’s parents.” She groaned, rolling her eyes, like a kid with mild tantrum. “He really likes ticking me off.” It’s my first time hearing Alora almost about to curse.

Same frustrations, girl.  I chuckled, extending my arm to reach her head to pat it when I recalled that I will be on the same set up two days from now. I extended my hand as I was about to pat Alora’s head, however, I’ve caught a paper being thrown to her direction before I could do so. I sat properly and sighed, scanning the faces of my pretentious classmates. They have already made themselves looking innocent. I wonder if there was an assassin here, except for me, for they’re so f*****g good at pretending they are good kids. I raised my brows and unfolded the crumpled paper. Alora sat on her back, leaning towards me.

“Just a sketch.” I crumpled the paper again, putting it inside my bag. Alora nodded, yawning. “They just won’t stop narking the real artist.” I whispered and Alora turned to me again, asking about what I just said. Shaking my head, I denied that I mumbled something.

Alora slumped herself on her arm-desk, again as she protests. She removes her eyeglasses and held unto it while she’s in that position. I placed my right elbow on my arm-desk and rested my chin on it. Let’s guess. I thought, scanning my classmate’s pompous faces. Who is the crook? And where’s the hook? I smirked as I caught some glances trying to avoid mine, some overly cautious actions and some shady and pointless conversations that sprout out of nowhere. Calm down, Reisun, don’t you dare laugh. I pursed my lips, restraining myself from looking like crazy.

-

“Bye. My old man’s going to fetch me because he said we need to buy gifts first.” Alora waved at me, and then later disappeared after I waved back. She was dismissed earlier as per her father’s request to Miss Cherrie. Manasseh left early as well.

I opened my bag and picked up the crumpled paper earlier. I sighed, walking towards the board. Miss Cherrie’s out for a reason after giving us an activity and I think this is the best time to kick the vexing faces of my classmates.

“What’s up, Knight in shining armor?” Betty asked, looking so innocent—ah no, trying to look innocent. I smirked. “What’s with your grand entrance?”

“Who threw this?” I raised my hand, holding the crumpled paper. This is not part of my job but even I, myself, weren’t sure of what’s happening inside my big brain. Everyone changed from having fun to being hostile. Some began having unfocused eyes and some started talking to their seatmates out of nowhere. I exhaled, crumpling the paper even more. “Come on, people, I am asking nicely.” I said it louder. I am not sure of what has gotten into me, but I loathe the idea of ants crowding and trying to take down a f*****g elephant. All of them are trash, really. And it’s annoying me for some reason.

“What’s in it for you, man?” It was Leon—the last punk left in Damian’s group. He looked so agitated, as if guilty. He even stood up, started showing me his broad shoulders. “Why do you always act like—”

“If it’s not you, don’t bother talking, please.” I cut him off, gesturing him to sit back down. “So, anyone?” I shifted my gazes to the girls. These petty things are girls’ doing. I nodded at my awareness. I have dropped my charming act the moment I showed them I’m only interested in Alora, so why do I have to compose myself now? It’s not like they can do anything about me.

“You—”

Even before Leon could talk, I’ve already pinned him down by shooting a button from my polo to his forehead. Everyone gasped at the act, thinking of how rebellious I look and mumbling about how frightening I am. I indeed am, honeys. I smirked. You assumed wrong in the first place, don’t look at me like I lured you to like me. “So, anyone?” I asked again, for the third time. “Come on, people! I rarely repeat myself and when I did, it pisses me off… surely.” I rolled my eyes. This is not something I do every damn time so why don’t these people cooperate?

These people are very, very persistent on trying to act mighty and then kind, later. What the hell is wrong with society these days? My temper is not very well composed and yet they’re doing their best to vex me.

I hate people.