Chapter 11: Chapter Eleven

Skylar's POV:

Homecoming.

That's all I could hear at my school today. Girls were highly pumped up with excitement, whispering and giggling about the dresses they were going to fill up their closets with. While the boys were shamelessly eyeing the girls, deciding who to ask out for the dance. Every single hallway of Crescent High was drowning with all that hype.

It was sickeningly sweet.

People like me could almost throw up rainbows and confetti just by looking at those excited teenage faces. It wasn't that I was against this all, it was just my lack of interest towards such events which made me way less excited than anyone else.

"Who're you going with, Hanna?" I initiated a casual conversation, leaning against my palms which were splayed out on either side of me. Angling up my chin a little, I almost winced at the harsh sunlight. Gym classes were always torturous.

"No one?" She replied, sounding a bit confused.

"Well," I started, squinting my eyes before looking back at her. We both were sitting side by side on one of the benches surrounding the basketball court. "I wasn't planning on going to the homecoming either."

"You're not going? Not even with Alex?" She asked.

I snorted out loud in response. "Why would I go with him? Besides, I'm pretty sure he's already asked out a girl for the dance."

It would be too disgusting to be your best friend's date, especially at homecoming. That only happened in stories where the best friend was hot. I could never think about Alex in that way.

Hanna hummed lightly in response just when Coach blew loudly on his whistle. He made us play basketball today, which wouldn't have been bad if only my skin hadn't been burning like a vampire under the sun.

I didn't understand how it got so cold at nights and so freaking hot in the mornings, especially during gym classes. So much so that I got all sweaty without even doing anything.

I broke out from my thoughts when I saw the basketball up in the air, soaring right towards me. One more second and it would've hit me right in the face, but I caught it right on time and swung it in the basket.

The only problem was, it didn't exactly go inside the basket.

Coach blew on the whistle, announcing an end to the game. I pressed my lips into a thin line and tried avoiding any accusing glares from the other players which were directed towards me, just because I ruined the game. It wasn't exactly my fault. All blame was to be put on the guy who threw me that ball at the last second, without any heads up.

Just as I was about to head towards the locker room like everybody else, I was stopped.

"Skylar, you stay here." I heard Coach's voice.

I was officially done.

Wiping my sweaty palms on the front of my gym shorts, I waited for everyone to get inside before making my way towards Coach.

"Yes, Coach?" I asked breathlessly.

If he was going to give me a lecture on the basics of basketball, I was going to die for real this time. Coach was an old guy whose ultimate goal of life was to build up immense enthusiasm for sports inside us, even in people like me. It was unnecessary, but it's not like I could ever say that to Coach.

"Would you mind helping me get the basketballs back in the room?" He asked.

I exhaled deeply and nodded. "Sure."

Collecting two of the balls in my hands, I slightly winced at the impact of it against the gash on my hand. It had healed up pretty quickly, but it still hurt.

"Howzat your parents doing?" He asked as I followed behind him.

I couldn't help but frown a little at that. Something was definitely up if he was asking me about my parents. Even though Coach knew my parents, especially my dad with him being a well-known lawyer in our town, it was still unusual of him to ask me about them out of the blue.

Or maybe I was just thinking too much.

"They're great." I kept it short as I entered the small room, placing the balls in the large basket. "Busy with the work and stuff."

"Ah, yes of course." He nodded, going over to his large desk and picking up some papers. "I saw your father near that park yesterday. I would've stopped by for some chat but unfortunately, I was in a hurry."

I looked at him in surprise. "What park?"

He looked up from those papers at me as if he hadn't expected me to ask that. He must not have seen the seriousness on my face though, because he waved it off the next second and went back to his papers. "mustn't been something related to the business."

I frowned at him again. Whatever he was saying did not sound normal to me.

"You mustn't mistaken him with someone else." I spoke up, giving him a small smile. "Dad's out of city at the moment actually."

His brows furrowed at that. "Really? I'm sure it was Paul that I saw."

Even when I tried thinking of a reasonable explanation to that, I couldn't think of any. Why would dad be here when he was out of city with mom?

Right then, the bell rang and I took a step back, ready to leave. "Can I go to my class now? I really don't want to miss it."

"Yes. Yes." He nodded, waving me off.

I rushed out of the room then, feeling a bit queasy in the stomach. I didn't know why I was feeling that way. Maybe I really was thinking too much, or maybe it had something to do with what Coach just told me.

••••••

The entire last period was free for us since half of the class was busy volunteering to help set up the homecoming decorations. All thanks to our sweet, old principal who thought that involving ourselves with the homecoming preparations would make it an even more enjoyable experience for us, since this all would be our own hard work.

I wasn't against it, not when you get a free period just for that.

Students who were willing to volunteer were separated into groups and given different preparations to handle. Some were setting up the decorations, while the others were making the posters. I looked down at the Styrofoam ball in my hand which I had halfway covered with glass pieces to make it look like small disco balls.

"I've never seen you working hard, Anderson." I heard a familiar voice behind me; a low, rough voice with slight hint of amusement lacing it.

Although I knew who it was, I still looked over my shoulder and saw Aden's tall form leaning against one of the gymnasium pillars behind me. It was a surprise to see him without his leather jacket for once, his black flannel sleeves rolled up till his forearms.

I forced my eyes away from him, my heart lurching a little when I looked back into his dark green ones.

"I've...never really worked hard on anything before." I rushed out the words, turning back to the Styrofoam ball in my hands. Then I glanced back at him, "Why don't you help too?"

He raised a brow at me as if that mere suggestion was stupid. "I'm fine where I am."

I rolled my eyes at that and continued sticking on the glass pieces. Now that I thought about it, I hadn't seen Caden since the day he gave me a ride back to my house, even once. Which brought me to the fact that he had lied to me that day.

"You lied to me." I spoke up, looking back at him. It was a little surprising to find him already staring at me, but I willed myself not to ponder over it too much.

He just gave me a blank look in response, crossing his arms. My gaze involuntarily flickered back to his rolled-up sleeves and I found myself wondering if he had any tattoos. He seemed like the guy who'd get tattoos just to make himself look more intimidating.

"You said that Alex was the one who told you about my house address." I frowned at him. "He didn't. And you lied."

"I didn't lie, Anderson." He replied plainly. "I never mentioned a name. All I said was your boyfriend."

I eyed him in disbelief. Was he for real?

"I can't believe you just said that." I murmured, turning back to my work once again. Something about his emotionless persona really ticked me off. It was as if he didn't care about absolutely anything, which couldn't be true.

He must care about something. Or maybe he was just crazy.

"How's your hand?" He asked after a while, once again breaking me out of my thoughts. I didn't turn around to look at him, though. For some reason, my face felt hot, and my heart was beating a bit erratically.

"It's fine." I mumbled, trying to sound just as smothered as he had sounded. Once the ball was done, I placed it down on the table in front of me. "So, are you going to the homecoming?"

He didn't even seem to think a bit before speaking, "Why would I?"

Unlike me, he could get any girl to go at the homecoming with. But then again, he didn't seem like the type who'd attend school dances.

"Well," I started. "I'm not going either." I picked up the three Styrofoam balls which were ready and placed them cautiously inside a big carton right beside him. "I'll probably be spending my time with Chicken."

When I looked back at him, I was once again met by his gaze. It was a bit bizarre how much I hated looking people in the eye. But with him, it didn't seem that bad.

Maybe because his eyes were really, really beautiful.

"Chicken?" He asked, and I saw the way one corner of his lips tugged up in a smirk.

I rolled my eyes at him. This is what I didn't get. One moment I felt highly intimidated by him, and the next, he was doing things to annoy me.

"My cat." I replied. Why did I even bother telling him about it?

"And you're still helping them decorate it?" He asked.

I shrugged at that and picked up the brown carton. "It's a nice distraction."

He kept on staring at me, his gaze rooting me to my spot. I really should avoid eye contact with him. It was starting to do things to me, strange things.

"You really do amuse me." He murmured, leaning his head back against the pillar and looking up at the ceiling. As he ran a hand through his dark black hair, I found myself still rooted to my spot, my gaze following his action.

If I thought he didn't notice it, I was so wrong.

"And you should really stop staring, Anderson." He straightened up from his position and eyed me once again, towering over me. There was absolutely no traces of a smirk or a smile on his lips, but the strange glint in his eyes said otherwise. "People take it the wrong way."

Yeah, he was definitely crazy.