CHAPTER 002
1239 Words
CAMILA'S VIEW
"What the hell?"
I struck the hallway floor hard, causing my knees to burn like fire. I could already feel the bruise starting to form as the chilly tiles scraped against my skin.
I slowly raised my head in the hopes that someone would lend me a helping hand. Naturally, I encountered no success. Rather, Mateo, the last person I wanted to see, was standing above me. He was grinning as if he had just won the lottery.
He brushed his untidy hair out of his face and remarked, "Watch where you're going, loser." Or did you go back to dreamland? Are you planning to have a quick makeout session with your beloved boyfriend soon?
Gritting my teeth, I pushed myself off the ground and glared up at him. Without averting my gaze, I brushed off my jeans.
"What do you know, Mateo?" I didn't mean for my voice to sound so sharp. "You have no bearing on my life. Perhaps you should concentrate on your own messed-up mess rather than meddling in my affairs.
Okay, I forgot to include that last detail. I nearly said the word "failure", which was on the tip of my tongue. I caught a glimpse of something flickering in his eyes, possibly anger or something more profound. Whatever it was, it stopped him from grinning.
"Don't you think you're unique?" He spoke in a low, icy voice. Camila, newsflash. You are nothing. It has always been. There always will be.
Aww. That struck me deeply. It was the sort of thing that clings to your ribs and weighs you down. I swallowed the lump in my throat and clenched my fists.
"And you?" I inhaled nervously. "All you are is a coward. You're too afraid to face the reality that you peaked in high school, so you hide behind sarcasm and clichéd insults.
His face turned red. I interrupted him as he opened his mouth.
"Don't waste your time. I've wasted enough time conversing with you.
Even though I could feel his gaze piercing the back of my skull, I continued walking past him without turning around.
The problem is that this wasn't your average fight in the hallway. Mateo and I have a long history together. We were close once. We shared a deep and intimate bond. We were the kind of friends who knew each other's secrets and who stayed up late discussing everything and nothing. Yes, I did once have a crush on him.
However, sophomore year ruined everything.
Together, we worked on a science project that was significant enough to earn scholarships. I put significant effort into it. research, staying up late, and even manually drawing the model.
Mateo? He made fun of it. He dismissed every suggestion I made like lint on his dumb leather jacket.
He then stood up and made it seem like it was all his idea when it came time to present it at the science fair. Everything. He never once mentioned me. Not once.
The judges thought it was fantastic. He received praise from the school. I was invisible as I stood there.
He simply shrugged and said, "You helped, sure," when I challenged him. However, I came up with the main idea.
Our last meaningful conversation ended there. Thereafter, our parents also stopped talking. No test score could ever fully account for the impact of the fallout.
I still don't understand how someone I once trusted with everything could turn around and crush me in such a way, and my crush turned to hate.
I was pulled out of the past by a gentle tap on my shoulder.
"Now what?" I whirled around, about to lose my temper, but Mateo wasn't there.
Lupita was the one.
"Oh," I sighed. I apologise. I mistook you for someone else.
Her eyebrows went up. "Obviously. What took place? You appear to have just wrestled with a lawnmower.
"Mateo happened," I whispered. "He intentionally ran me over and threw a whole bunch of jerk on top."
I loved Lupita because of the fire that blazed in her eyes. "What did he do? I'll break his nose, I swear. Perhaps both.
"Please don't." I rubbed my knee and laughed. "I've already roasted him well. We shouldn't waste any more time on him.
I didn't have to elaborate further because the bell rang at that precise moment. After entering the classroom, we slid into our window-facing seats. There was still nothing on Ms. Mendoza's desk. She was consistently a few minutes late.
Mateo's chair? It's still empty. That should come as no surprise. Drama King always had to arrive in style.
After ten minutes, Ms. Mendoza strode in carrying a pile of documents. She adjusted her glasses and gave us her signature no-nonsense expression. She didn't let anyone get away with s**t, which is why I liked her. Not Mateo in particular.
The door behind her slammed open just as she had expected.
She said, "Well, well," without even looking back. "Mr. Ruiz, you are so kind to join us."
Mateo entered with a smug smile that seemed to be sewn onto his face. "Slow down; teach. I was just assisting some women with their plans for the weekend. You know, it takes time to get good advice.
He gave a group of girls a wink. When they first saw glitter, they giggled like young children.
Me and Lupita? We simply rolled our eyes.
Then he went straight to the seat behind mine, rather than where he usually goes.
Wonderful.
His jeans brushed the back of mine as if it were nothing, and he spread his legs wide. My whole back tensed.
I moved my chair a couple of inches forward. I could feel that smirk burning at the back of my neck even though he remained silent.
Class began with Ms. Mendoza. Today, we'll be examining the use of metaphor in the works of Edgar Allan Poe. Please go to page—
Give a thunk.
A blow struck my shoulder. I noticed a crumpled paper ball when I looked down. I knew who it was from without even turning to look back.
He whispered, barely audible, "Psst… hey Camila." "Looking great today."
I didn't look back. My ears were burning. What a kid he was.
Another ball fell onto my desk a few minutes later. With a groan, I unfolded it.
*Don't believe you've won. Be careful, you might trip again.*
What? Was there a danger there?
I turned and scowled. He simply shrugged and lifted his eyebrows, maintaining that foolish smile as if it were a fashion piece.
Ms. Mendoza's voice cut through the class, "Mr. Torres." "Why don't you explain the metaphor in the fifth stanza since you're so alert and animated today?"
Mateo leaned back in his chair and blinked. "Oh... I'm not very good at English. I prefer to work hands-on.
Some girls squealed when he flexed his arms.
I felt like throwing up.
Ms. Mendoza never missed a beat. "Then perhaps keep your hands on a book the next time."
The students laughed. Mateo sagged slightly.
She said, "Would anyone else like to try?"
I raised my hand. Poe conveyed the intense anguish of a grieving soul by using the violin to sob. Emotional sound is more important than actual sound.
Ms. Mendoza grinned. I'm grateful, Camila. Well-spoken and concise.
I took a sidelong glance. Mateo had lost his smile.
- Writer
