The Deferral Year

The Deferral Year(Agatha Melanie) You die at seventeen
in your first love’s arms
and find it cruel that
in this world, Shakespeare
takes Juliet first.
Three
Two
One

I’m on my feet and I’m running
Fast and quick and I can’t stop myself. My legs are moving so quickly even my own body cannot keep up with the beat
I need to breathe; I need to take in oxygen
But I can’t
I’m running away
I am running away like I’ve seen a ghost

You die at seventeen
and learn that there is no
epilogue after page 11,305
because there are no words
to be said from the mute.
Two
Three
Four

I look back, no one is behind me, but I can feel his thumb running laps on my bare shoulders
He can’t be alive, this isn’t happening
I am losing my mind
I am taken away from life, I’ve been shadow kissed

You die at seventeen
and involuntarily fill your lungs
with tight packed dirt until
you are no longer breathing
air but earth.
Three
Four
Five

Mama, mama, please take me to bed
I don’t think I’m capable of running anymore
I stop
What a bad idea, what a waste of time, he’s closer now
I can feel his breathe right behind me
Don’t turn around, Cossette
Don’t spin your head
There’s nothing behind you, there’s nothing under the bed
Papa, please help me
You die at seventeen
and your roots grow from both
ends and when you start
to rot at the core, they cut
you back down to the stem.
Four
Five
Six

I am flying away
I am going insane
There are canons in my head
Booming together, following the acceleration of my heart
And all I know is that
I am dead
You die at seventeen
because Shakespeare takes
Juliet first, so you plant
your own seeds and labor
yourself into birth
Six
Twelve

But I am not dead
I am alive
I am more alive than I’ve even been
The clock strikes twelve and I’m wide awake
Again



This isn’t you
I jolt upright, breathing heavily. I shake my head from the fogginess and immediately curl back into a small ball. I feel naked, my skin tingling with the bed beneath my body, my hair dancing on my shoulder blades just below my jaw, and I feel cold.
So I curl myself again, tighter this time and pull my arms against my chest.
My bare chest
Bare
Oh
Oh
Oh
I am fully awake and I’m not at the same time.
I am not insane, I am not insane, I am not insane I am not insane, I am not insane, I am not insane
I am not insane, I am not insane, I am not insane I am not insane, I am not insane, I am not insane
I am not insane, I am not insane, I am not insane I am not insane, I am not insane, I am not insane
I am not insane, I am not insane, I am not insane I am not insane, I am not insane, I am not insane
Oh, who am I kidding? I am insane. I am beyond insane.
I am impossible.


I am not happy being alive. I am furious. I keep kicking and screaming and scratching and yelling and spitting and running. I am angry and I don’t feel like sitting down on a chair. I don’t want to live anymore; someone like me should be dead by now.
They’ve been holding me in this house for 498 days now. There are four guards, dressed in white costume, guarding me from doing more harm, from causing anymore damages. They are pulling me away from the outside world; they are pulling me away from my freedom.
“I don’t want to do this, Cossette, but you asked for it.” They say.
“You’ve been a very bad girl, you need to be punished.” They say.
“Sadly, there is nothing else we can do to help you.” They say.
“We need to lock you up.” They say.

I didn’t even have the chance to retreat, the drugs pulled me under.

I woke up to the sound of drums, trumpets and footsteps beneath me.
There is a window above the bed. Above the bed frame, there is a small window in the shape of a square. Its perimeter is lined with wood that smells like trees and forest and summer days and I’m desperate to see what’s outside. I run across the room and set my leg above my bed, the white fabric shifts lightly below me and it tickles. My eyes straight ahead, drinking the whole scene before finally looking down.
Someone pulled me by my uniform collar.
“Hey!” I shout, trying to shove the hand away, must be one of the guards.
“You can’t see what’s outside, you freak!” Something that sounded like a snort was heard. My face grew red.
“And why is tha--?” He slapped me before I had the chance to finish my sentence.
“Shut up, shut your mouth.”
“She’s gross.”
“I know right, look at her, she’s a freak!”
“I can hear you.” I snap, turning my face around so I am facing the window again. This time his hands grab the tail of my hair and pull me down.
“You think I care, mate?” I puff my cheek and huff, whatever.
“Soldier, Dyson, enough.” 5 heads turn into the direction of the opened door. There, a man, about the age of 20 stands. “I am bringing her to Lucas. Soldier, Jackson,” he points out his index fingers to the direction of Dyson. “Stay put, don’t start another fight, understood?”
“Yes, sir.” Dyson replies, his lips a straight line and his jaw tightens. It takes everything in me not to slap the smile off his face and kick his ass and balls right then and there. I grunt, pulling myself off the ground and walk to the door. The soldier nods at me and I stiffen a little bit. He tugs my shoulders and pulls them back behind me.
“It’s out basic protocol, Cossette; you need to be handcuffed before meeting the Lucas.” His voice is, oddly, soft. “Now walk.” He kicks my feet and I’m awake. All my senses are awake; they are walking and walking and walking.

It takes hours to walk to the metal sliding door, weeks to walk to the elevator, months to wait inside the elevator and years to walk to Lucas’ office. By the time I am face-to-face with Lucas, I’ve grown a bit older. Lucas is the leader of this boot camp. He’s young and fierce. His father built this a long time ago; he passed away few years back. Now, Lucas inherits the power.
“I am overjoyed to finally meet you, Giselle.” Lucas is a man of words, he process everything in that little head of him before spitting it out.
“Sir, my name is Cossette. You must’ve mistaken me with someone else.”
“Cossette, darling, my my you’ve grown…” He pulls himself and walk to me, taking the sight of me, I feel afflicted. He purrs softly before placing a hand on my hip before signaling the soldiers behind me to leave. I can hear myself sigh in relief. “As you know, I don’t do mistakes.”
“Of course, sir, I’m sorry.”
“Your name is Giselle. You are seventeen years old, you were born in Kansas.” He goes back to his table and flips a file, taking out a paper before handing it over. “You’re moving back to Kansas after three whole years in New York. You’ve been grieving about your mother’s death there. Your father has married another woman, that you hate, and you’re living alone in an apartment across your campus.” He drools down his words, not missing anything. When he goes silent, I ask my wondering question.
“In Kansas, sir?”
“Read, Giselle, do your homework yourself.” He blurted out, pointing on the paper, I’ve never seen him so giddy… so impatient.
“Right, sir, I’m sorry.”
He coughs once, twice before smiling to me. I try to give one back and he laughs at my attempt. “You are dismissed, Giselle. Tell the soldiers outside to go back inside, will you, my dear?”
“Of course, sir.” I reply, waiting for the metal sliding door to slide. When it does, I step outside slowly. “Inside, soldiers,” I announce, the soldiers shifted.
“Are you sure, miss?” A soldier whispered softly. I turn around and they walk slowly back inside. “Direct order? Right, sure, I’m sorry.” And I walk straight to the elevator.


“You’re sure, they’re meeting you there?” Packing is probably the worst step I have to go through before starting a new assignment. I have to go through talking with Winston, a boy that I’ve known since third grade. “I mean, not to annoy you or anything…” I could just kill him.
“Yes, Winston, now shut up will you?”
“I’m sorry, Cossette, it’s just that—you know…”
“Shh, help me pack. Take my bag there, okay?” Winston nods so hard his head may fall off. He picks up my duffel bag and forces my clothes inside, I cringe at the sight. “Do it without as much force, Winston, please.”
He looks embarrassed and quickly apologizes. I am satisfied, I grin.
Two knocks on the door.
Me and Winston turn and stare into each other’s eyes.
Who could be knocking?
Who would be knocking?
I shove my last piece of clothing into my duffel bag and put my fingers in front of my bitter lips, forcing Winston to keep quiet; he takes the signal and stops talking. I think he stops himself from breathing.
Do you have to make it so hard?
“Agent Despina, open the door at this instant or we will use force.” The voice is clear; I take in a shaky breath and walk to the door, opening it slowly.
Someone threw a punch and it went straight to my face, pushing me backwards. Before I gain my bearings, they were gone.
I smell something smelly beside me, I turn around and see Winston’s back. I hear groans and disgusting noises.
“Oh, Winston…” I make myself stand, he turns around, showing me his in-the-middle-of-vomiting face and I look away, avoiding the presence of sure silence between us, “turn around, Winston, drink a glass of warm water and make yourself useful.”
Harsh; but to the point. I leave without anymore comments, I feel like if I say anything or do anything or just stay there, I will make things worse.


“Agent Despina, you’re ten mi— what happened?” Lucas stops me before I can allow myself to enter the car. I put down my duffel bag and return the files to him for checking. I tie my hair loosely in a pony tail and brush it with my fingers; I need to look best for him.
“There was an accident, sir.” When I speak; my voices sounds like a horse. I cough once, twice.
“No excuse, agent.” His voice is stern, scolding me. “Are you ready?”
“Yes, sir.” I smile and pick up my duffel bag.
“There’s no need for that, agent,” He replies sleepily, looking through me looking happy. I turn around and notice a soldier walking in our direction. Then he is ten feet away, five feet away, two feet away and
then he’s a breath away.
“Agent Despina, this is soldier Ashford. Soldier Ashford has been assigned to lead your way to Kansas.” I nod. “Any question, agent?”
“A new protocol, sir?” I ask, butterflies flying inside my stomach and I am burning.
“No, agent, I just want to make sure you’ll be safe and sound.” Lucas smiles and I try to smile back. He pulls Ashford to talk with him and ask me to start the engine. I do. I jump in to the driver seat and stick my thumb to the scanner on the dashboard.
“It’s been long, Maria, it’s been so damn long since I used you.” I smile, “Good girl.” The beeping starts as the scanner goes down to business. The engine rolled and I’m ready to drive.
Lucas knocks on the mirror, signaling me to go out. I open the door slowly, making creaking noises along the way before allowing myself to jump out.
“Soldier Ashford here is driving the tank.” Wait, what? I’m confused.
“Sir, I am capable of driving the tank myself.”
“Did I question your ability, agent?” I shake my head. “Right, so you were saying?”
I can feel the redness molecules running laps on my face. “No, sir.”
“You may leave now, soldier Ashford. Take good care of agent Despina here; she’s a piece of work.” Lucas pats my back and I smile. Ashford closes the door and waits for me to enter. “Be careful out there, stay alert and keep your eyes open for any possible attack. Clear?” I nod, but he doesn’t remove his hands from my hips.
“Clear, sir.”
“I’ve given Ashford a few more papers, read them and study the life of Gisselle. Report to me as soon as possible and as much as possible. Best of luck, agent.” He opens the door for me and I jump inside, turning back to him one last time. “Good luck, agent, you’ll need that.” And he shuts the door.


I’m tired.
I lean back and take a peek at Ashford. “Ashford? What’s your first name?” I ask him, tilting my head and bobbing it back and forth like I’m listening to music, I’m trying to act as casual as possible. This is so not like me, like, at all.
“Stop that.” He replies in disgust, but I swear there was a little bit of laugh in his voice. “As for my first name, I don’t think it’s your business.”
“Sure it isn’t. I just want to know, we’re going to talk a lot.”
“It’s Florian.” He stirs the wheel, “and I’m not talking to you.”
I ignore him, “You’re French?”
“Yes.”
“Nice.”
He’s silent for what seems like forever before I start asking him questions. He answered them with short answers; we went on like that for a while.
“How long have you been in America?”
“Three years.”
“How long have you been actually in America?”
Sigh, “three years and a half.”
“How have you been holding up?”
“Okay.”
“Do you like it here? I mean we’re better than French.” I say, matter-of-factly.
“We have better foods.”
“Hey, we have awesome hot dogs. We have pizz—”
“Modified.”
“Excuse me?”
He ignored that one.
“Well, anyways, we have awesome modified pizzas. What do you have?”
“Freedom.” He was looking straight ahead and I let out a sigh.
I looked around, realizing this conversation is over.
I spin around and face him. Looking at his face, he looks much younger. His has high cheek bones and his nose bridge is taller than mine. His eyes are looking at the horizon, his mouth straight and stern. He let out a long sigh before facing his right mirror, avoiding my gaze. I turn around, looking around, drinking in the view. The country is in the state of coma right now and I hate it.
“Touché.” I say, after a while and he just smiles.


We arrive three hours earlier from the plan.
I get off the car and walk to the house. I can hear Ashford Florian walking from behind, following me.
So I walk faster. I don’t want him to see me like a little girl she needs to protect. I’ve been told I’m too young to be an agent but my mom had put me in the academy since I was five for a reason. “Cossette, move.”
“Don’t call me Cossette.” I reply, shoving him away from my path and try to walk faster than him. It’s a lot harder than I thought; he obviously has a longer pair of legs than me. Mine’s not short, just not enough to match his length. “Nobody calls me Cossette outside the camp.”
“I’m sorry, agent Despina.” He replies, walking slower behind me and I breathe out loud. I knock on the door two times before the door opens, presenting an old couple behind the door.
“Oh, you’re early?” The man asks, he looks very old and weak, I actually feel sorry for him. But he’s an agent; he’s stronger than he looks… probably.
I mean, I hope so.
“Florian drives very fast.” I say, smiling, holding out my hand to the lady beside him. She avoids my gaze but shakes her hand with me.
“Florian?”
“Excuse me, sir. I’m Ashford, I’m her soldier.” Florian talks behind me, his lips so close to my ears I can feel my heart melting.
“‘Her soldier’?” The old man asks. I hadn’t realize Florian had said that he’s ‘her soldier’, my soldier.
Mine.
Mine to keep.
Suddenly, I feel so happy.
“Yes, sir. I have been assigned to protect her and you and your wife.”
Her.
‘Her’ sounds good.
“Ah, yes, okay.” His actions seem fazed, probably like mine. I can’t read my own expression now but I’m sure I’m blushing. I hope no one sees it.
“Can we enter, sir? People are getting curious.”
“Yes, of course.” The old man replies, opening the door a bit more giving me and Florian more space and area to enter. “A small place, people know each other well.”
“What about Giselle, do they know about Giselle?”
The old man looked dizzy for a moment, but he had managed to compose himself fast that it almost looked like nothing happened. “Giselle, my love, is another story. I suppose you’ve read your assignment, agent?”
I nod, although I haven’t read much about her. I thought that it’s a waste of time. I’d learn how to be her anyways… right? I’ll learn how to be Giselle. I’ll learn how to talk like Giselle, how to eat like Giselle, how to dance and how to sleep like Giselle.
I am going to be Giselle Chambers.
Florian shoots me a look of disapproval when the old man turns his back on us and I shoot him back a disgusted look. Shut up, I move my lips to form the words.
“Giselle is dead.”
“The real Giselle, sir?”
“Yes, dear. But no one here knows about it.”
“Great, that I can start working on her, sir?”
The old man looks like he wants to say something but decided against it. He smiles at me, showing off his perfect line of white teeth and guide me to what is supposed to be Giselle’s room.
I enter the room and close the door behind me. Finding myself swimming in a peaceful dream worth sleeping for.


I smell almond and wood forest.
I look up and see the sun setting on the other side. I squint at the light it gives out and try to sit up.
My body aches and my I think I broke a bone. I try to give it another shot; I let out a long moan and decided against it. I shake my head slowly and pull my hands to touch my face.
“Wake up.” A voice booms behind me and I’m alert, although my body is aching for the pleasure for sleeping in, “we have things to do, agent.”
“I’m up.” I reply, my voice husky, “I’ll be ready in five.” Although I’m not sure.
“You don’t have ‘five’, get up, now, and hurry!” He’s starting to annoy me; I let out another grunt before pulling my pieces together, pulling myself all together and turn around.
“Don’t smile at me.” I say. I go to the bathroom and quickly wash my face, tidying my hair. I ask Florian, “What do we need to do?”
His reply is oddly soft and patience, “well first I will need you to memorize information about Giselle.” Ugh, obviously.
“Okay, got it, what else?”
“We’re going to take a walk, agent.” My jaw drops, what the hell?
“Where to?” I ask, I don’t care about the destination but I just want to talk to him. I find myself blushing, my reflection smirking and my legs wobbling.
“The park sounds nice.” It does. I agreed and he left, I’m shaking my head at the discomfort and pick a new shirt to wear.
Once I’m outside, I’m welcomed by the old man. “Evening, sunshine, where you going?” He asks me, cooking something that looks like an omelet.
“Florian. He asked me to walk with him… to the park.” He looks confuse for a second, I reassure him that it’s okay, “Florian is my soldier, right?”
“Oh, Soldier Ashford.” I blush, of course, Soldier Ashford. “Such a lovely young man.” I can’t help but agree with him. “Be careful, agent, be Giselle out there, people will notice.”

“So you’ve talked with the old man?” That was the first question Florian asked me, we were walking with a couple uncomfortably close to us.
“Yes, why?” I ask, suddenly annoyed that this conversation will not be about us.
Us
Ugh, this feeling is confusing. “Nothing. Just wondering.” He replies, looking at the horizon. I can’t help but chime in a snicker.
“Right, because you’re always so interested in my life.”
“Agent…” he sighs.
“Just get to the point, soldier Ashford.” I snap and he let out another sigh. He takes my hand and I feel dizzy for a second. Like collapsing on his body would be great right then. He walks me to a dirty bench, looks like it was made from wood and cleans it up a little bit and sits down. Patting the small space beside him telling me to sit. I shake my head. “C’mon, let it out.”
“Agent, I don’t think thi—this work is good for you.” He says, I ask myself what’s wrong with this guy?
“What do you mean?” I snap, clearly annoyance can be heard through my voice. It tingles inside the vibration that I make when I speak.
“This mission, it’s wrong.” I finally sit beside him and look around. People are staring at us, waving at us and we wave back. Smiling and acting like we’ve known them for our whole live. It takes me sometime to understand what he’s trying to say. It’s wrong, it is very wrong. But what can I do? I have a mission to do and I intend to do it as soon as possible. I start a conversation with him and I find myself investigating Giselle, this is not so not how I work.
“Tell me something interesting about Giselle. I know some facts about her but tell me what you know about this girl…” I ask, finally looking at him.
“Giselle, she was a part of the camp.” He answers and my jaw drops. He looks at me and laughs a little, “it’s true; she left about three years ago.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Agent, Omega Point has never made this kind of mission. It’s usually about saving lives, not saving a dead person’s identity.” He answers, taking out his phone and clicking few tabs before finally showing me a picture of Giselle.
My jaw drops for the second time since I’ve sit on the bench.
She looked exactly like me
She looks exactly like me
“The thing about dead people; is that you have to respect them. You know, they’ve lived a live here. They’ve brought their legacy, they’ve made their traces. They’ve leave marks on the sacred human world. They’ve changed us in some ways, agent, they have done something that changes us. Sometimes dead people are very wise, wiser than your father or a living judge.” He continues talking and I continue on listening, facing him and facing the ocean in front of us. He’s looking at me all through his little speech and I feel a little bit uncomfortable. When he’s done, I smile at him and ask the question that’s been lingering on the top of my head.
“Soldie—” I cough and try again. “This girl, Giselle, you knew her?”
“She and I were friends, we’re the same age.”
“Wait, Giselle’s seventeen, you’re nineteen!”
“Twenty, actually. But it’s true, we were the same age, she just looks younger.” He seems annoyed because I stop him so I stop talking, “so anyway,” he tries one more time, “I miss her. Like, a lot.”
“I look a lot like her, huh?”
“Yes, mam. Yes, you do.”
“Is that why?” I ask, standing up, “is that why you’re so cruel to me?”
“I don’t mean to act cruel, agent. But Lucas assigned me to guard you because of this, so I felt a little betrayed.”
“Tha--” I stammer, wiping off a tear. “That’s not my fault.” I manage to croak.
“I know, I never said it is.”
“Enough.” I say and turn away. I start to walk, walk back to the house slowly. I know where it is, I even know the address. This mission is changing me little by little, you don’t remember the address of your best friend’s house, you know the place. You just do. It’s part of the bond that I never have the chance to feel… of course. It’s stupid for me to even think about it. I never have a relationship with anyone, not a real one, at least. I open the door and burst in inside, not knowing that the old woman’s inside.
She stands up, clearing her head and focuses her eyes on me and smile. I try to twitch my straight lips to smile back but I can’t. I try once more but I fail again. I grunt and she jumps back a little, and I jump back a little too and now there’s more space between both of us and it’s my fault.
It’s my fault, it’s my fault and it’s my fault
I’m not sure when I start to cry but eventually I did. I break down in front of her and just start sobbing, crying and hiding my face in my hands and I cry some more, closing the door behind me because I can feel the eyes of other people behind me. I can feel Ashford’s hand behind my back, patting me slowly and telling me things that I don’t believe. He is a soldier and I’m the enemy and he’s stabbing me with so much force I cannot feel my shoulders anymore. I am touched by his hands and I am guilty that I feel this way. He must have someone back in the camp who loves him, and he must love her so much. There must be someone special he’s leaving behind to continue this mission.
I stop this crying nonsense, I’ve cried so much that my body is collapsing below me.
But I keep trying to stand up and eventually, I do.

I don’t want to close my eyes ever again.


“How are you feeling?” Florian asks me, I look up and smile.
“I’m great, thanks.” I take my mug and head straight to my room. I lock the door and open the file that Lucas had given me two-three days ago, I can’t remember.
2 December, 2010
Agent name: Chambers, Giselle
Age: 15 years old
Gender: Female
Specialize in: preemptive terror analysis
I keep reading and reading and reading and reading
and when I finally close the file, putting it under a pile of books on Giselle’s table.
I understand.


“You want coffee? We can grab a cup before school.” I ask Florian, he’s dressed in a white t-shirt and washed jeans. Turns out, he’s going to be helping me with the investigation to overlook how I’m doing. Also, we have to make some new plot line which is what I’m thinking about inside my head.
“Sure, I could use a cup of caffeine.” He replies, “listen. I’m sor—” but I cut him off with a cough. He shrugs it off and plays it cool, which makes him looks hotter, “Alright then, you’re driving.”
“Aha, thanks.” I take the key from him and turn to the door. “We’re going now; do you guys need anything else?” I ask to no one in particular. The old man answers me though, saying they’re fine. After a few good luck exchanges, we get out of the house.
“Do you know where the school is?” I ask Florian, he shakes his head.
“Not a problem though, seems you don’t need to drive the car. Give me the keys.” He looks past me and I turn into his direction. There’s a girl. She’s tall, with long blond hair and perfectly curled eyes lashes. She’s looking past me, staring at Florian.
Of course she’s staring at Florian
“I’m Anna; I don’t think we’ve met before.” She smiles, obviously slowing her perfectly smeared lip gloss. I push her a little to the side and walk past her. I turn around, she’s flirting with him, but I have to take the keys. With a grunt, I walk to their direction again, seems like he’s dismissing the conversation. I can’t help but smirk.
The girl, Anna, turns around and smile at me. Putting her right hand on my hip, twirling me over. “Your cousin is so hot.” I can feel her turning her head around, winking at him.
“My cousin?”
“Duh. Or maybe he’s your brother? But no, you don’t have any brother right?” She asks, opening her car door as I wait outside, “well c’mon then, what are you doing?”
“Umm…” I’m lost, what the heck am I supposed to do?
“Giselle.” I snap, right, I’m Giselle. “Giselle, get in the car.” I nod and walk to my right before opening the door. “Not there, here, beside me.” She said, patting on a seat in front. I mentally slap myself in the face, what an idiot.
“I’m sorry for that.” I apologize; she looks confused for a second but then composes herself quickly.
“Alright, what’s up?” She asks, but she doesn’t wait for my answer, “I promise I’m not going to do that again.” She’s bobbing her head in the direction of the house.
“What?”
“Oh my God, are you going to keep on acting like this?” She laughs softly, “flirting, Chambers, I meant flirting. I won’t flirt on him again.”
“Oh.” Is all I manage to say. I try to suppress a smile, but she looks disappointed.
“Nice try, Giselle, I’m sorry, okay?”
“No, that’s fine. Keep your eyes on the road.”
She looks at me for a while and I look at her. Her eyes are round and big and sincere, I can’t help but smile. She opens her mouth to say something, but decided against it. Finally, she speaks up, “what ever floats your boat, girly.”
No one has ever said that to me before.


First class is English 11. I manage to find my class and I reward myself a pat on the back. Believe it or not, but being an undercover teenage girl is probably the worst thing ever. I sit behind the class. As I put down my back, I feel someone patting on my shoulder. I turn around.
A boy asks me, “Why?”
“What?”
“You’re not supposed to sit there, Giselle.”
“What?”
“There.” He points on a chair beside the window.
“Yeah, sure.” I try to make it sound as casual as possible.
I stand up and walk to the chair. I sit down and put down my bag, taking out my notebook, textbook and a pen. From here, I can understand why Giselle likes to sit here. A perfect view of the whole class.
I look at the chair I sat on earlier. It’s taken now. A girl, very skinny, sit on it and is making out with the boy. I look away, clearly disgusted. The teacher walks in and the class starts.
“We have a new student today, guys.” He says, I thought he was going to introduce me. I stand up.
All eyes on me.
“Yes, Chambers?” He asks, “what do you want?” he asks me. I try to answer him but a girl walks in.
Quickly followed by Florian.
“Students, you have a new classmate today. Florian Ashford, introduce yourself.”
Florian nods and I’m sure half of the girls’ heart here melts, even the girl who took my seat. “Hi.”
Florian walks towards my seat and sit beside me. “Why don’t you sit over there, Mr. Ashford.” The girl suggests, pointing on another chair across the room.
“Nah, I want to sit near Giselle.”
I shouldn’t feel like this, I should hide my face and shield myself for the different reaction. But instead, I hold my head high and smile. I look around, looking at pathetic faces. Even the girl in front and the teacher seems shocked by this.
“Giselle?” The teacher clears his throat, “why are you still standing up?”
I’m supposed to sit down, to continue the class and to stop myself from talking back. But I can’t help it, “I wanted to take my pen.” I do as I say and sit down, shocking the whole class. I don’t know what’s up with this creepy class; it was just a pen, no big deal.
After the fourth class, I run to Florian in the hallway. We walk together to the cafeteria and we talk about our classes, secretly giving out our observation.
“So, what do you think happened to Giselle?” I ask, chewing a long strip of asparagus. “I me