Chapter 25

I WOKE UP sometime in the afternoon. Disorientation and disconcertion were becoming frequent themes in my life. Time felt like a foreign concept as I patted the bed beside me for the source of sound; the very destroyer of my sleep.

I had muted Marc sometime in the afternoon, but the incoming text wasn't from Marc. I squinted my eye at the screen, able to make out Jaxon's name.

> I still have your shit btw What? I blinked furiously.

It took several heartbeats to realize that Jaxon had probably taken my belongings from Calculus class. Because when I said I was visiting the restroom, I really was returning to my room to cry (and fall asleep in the process).

My first instinct was to unlock my phone - something I could not fulfil due to the cracked screen. I groaned, before forcing myself up and out of bed so I could retrieve my laptop that was thankfully still functional. I booted up my email and began searching for Jaxon's. I wasn't sure if he checked his mail but it was worth a try.

> hi, idk if you check your email but thank you so much for taking my things. you may leave them in the lobby of the female hostels if you happen to come here. otherwise i'll collect it from wherever you are! sorry for troubling you I sighed into my pillow when I was done. I wasn't entirely sure how everything went from 'so right' to this, whatever this was. It was easy to pretend there wasn't chaos beyond my room door when I hid beneath my blanket. But it really wasn't easy to disclaim the fact that I was behind both Chelsea's transfer and Elias's resignation.

An almost instantaneous ping diverted my attention to the screen of my laptop. It was the only source of light in my dark room. Jaxon had replied.

> I'll drop it at your lobby right now. Are you okay?

I rested my head back against the pillow. The last thing I wanted to do was to go downstairs and collect my Calculus textbook. But I mustered the last of my strength to flick the bedside lamp and put some clothes on. It was getting cold these days, a reminder of the fact that I didn't have much time left in high school to correct everything that was wrong with me.

The hallways were empty, as per usual. I learnt a while back that rooms on my floor had a name: elite rooms. Students who had rooms to themselves paid exorbitant prices, this of course signalled at affluent origins. As such, attention was immediately paid more towards this contingent of students. Subconsciously of course.

The elevator stopped on the fifth floor, in came two females who were deep in discussion.

" - definitely got bribed. Kinda disappointing if you think about it."

"Yeah, filthy rich kids. They just make the institution look bad."

I tried to shrink myself to the best of my ability, willing the wall to swallow me up. They were definitely talking about me. Eternity came and went before we arrived at the first floor. I breathed in relief. However, my relief did not last long.

I spotted Jaxon sitting in the lobby, conversing with a girl. I watched them from a distance, focusing on the way Jaxon's thumb brushed against my textbook, the way he threw his head back in laughter. He never laughed like that when he was with me.

[40. Which of the following best describes your love life at the present moment?

> Taken and happy > Taken and unhappy > Single and happy > Single and unhappy]

The girl was a pretty one, definitely not a faction five. I watched the way her hands ran through perfect hair, exposing her swan-like neck each time she tilted her head. And Jaxon, Jaxon's eyes were so fixated on her he did not even realize my presence.

I, on a petty whim, fueled purely by hormones and against the voice of logic, decided to go back upstairs. My eyes remained on him as the elevator doors shut me inside the contraption - he didn't even notice me.

In quick succession and in heavy stomps, my feet brought me back to my dark room. I didn't even bother with the lights, I walked straight to my bed and dropped face down into the comfort of my duvet. It smelled faintly of vanilla scented candles, I could almost fool myself into thinking that I was at home.

I must have fallen asleep sometime being unreasonably jealous of Jaxon's female accomplice. Which was decidedly stupid and unlike me at all. Overthinking usually helped me to rationalize situations, but this time it made me feel shittier.

I refreshed my inbox to see an incoming email from Jaxon. Swear to God, my heart fucking fluttered. My jaws dropped in disbelief. For a few raging seconds, I didn't dare - didn't want to believe that I had the hots for Jaxon.

It can't be. I could understand if it was lust - like the thing I felt for Elias when I thought he was a Greek God. But no, it was so innocent with Jaxon. We only talked, for fuck's sake. He made me feel like a prepubescent girl in all honesty.

> After waiting for an hour I realized you probably forgot I was coming so I left your stuff in the lobby. Let's hope no one steals a Calc textbook and a pencil case!

I furiously keyed in a reply.

> at least it was an hour spent in a presence of an attractive female :)

I resisted the urge to slap myself once I sent the email. Because who the hell was I to be jealous? He had every right to speak to any female he so wished to speak to. He was nice enough to bring my things here. I was really, really in no position to be jealous here. I sighed.

> What?

I replied, > you know what’s up :)

> What’s gotten into you? You sound jealous

Was I? No I wasn't fucking jealous. I slammed my laptop shut and then my eyelids. Try as I may however, I couldn't will myself into peaceful slumber. After tossing and turning for a long time, I sat up and opened my laptop, before refreshing the inbox page.

> Well regardless, you do realize we have a calc test tomorrow?

Blood began rushing in my ears, as I speedily returned an email.

> wait what. what do you mean > Calc test, Andrea. Your textbook is still in the lobby according to an anonymous source. I’d grab that if I were you

For the second time tonight, I found myself exiting the recesses of my dark room, into the brightness of the lobby. It was close to 10pm, one should be afraid of the impending test, but I had greater worries. Like being disowned by my parents or, getting kidnapped and held hostage by the loan sharks.

I was in my worst sweatshirt, I really, really hoped I wouldn't bump into any familiar faces. Luckily for me, the common areas seemed to be empty.

I found my Calculus textbook along with my pencil case, as promised by Jaxon. I hugged the objects to my chest, contemplating if I should bother studying at all. I would be so sleep deprived but I also knew I could catch my lost sleep tomorrow, during my Astronomers’ Club and Chess Club meetings.

I cleared my head of the thoughts. Decided to take a walk on this cool night.

Richmond Park Academy was a different place at night than its morning self. Where it boasted vibrant colors and a cheery, never unpleasant outlook beneath the sun, the gothic building with its turrets, trims and bay windows looked uncanny beneath moonlight. Not something you'd pay a fortune for, for your kids to receive an education at.

I found myself in the Eastern wing of the school, not somewhere I was entirely familiar with. The Eastern wing comprised the male hostels, classrooms for Freshmen and  Sophomores, the gymnasium, and the gym.

Armed with my textbook, I decided to explore the area.

The gym was lit when I entered. I spotted a lone figurine running on the treadmill. Could hear the panting from where I stood could hear the quick thud thud of foot against the treadmill's belt. I stared at the figure for an undetermined amount of time, it was mesmerizing. He looked out of breath, close to death.

Elias.

He ran as though he was running from an unseen evil.

I blinked when he lost balance, slid off the treadmill and crumbled to the ground. It was silent, save for his shallow breathing and the noise of the still-running treadmill. With great effort, Elias forced himself up, climbing back onto the treadmill.

"Elias," I called.

It was awfully silent, my voice seemed to travel all the way across the gym, ricocheting off walls and echoing back to where I stood.

He jumped, and fell off the treadmill for the second time. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights, stunned and seemingly unsure of what to say. Finally, he got up and approached me, on what looked like shaky legs.

He was in a blue jersey, entire thing was soaked in sweat. His hair too, was drenched. It made one wonder exactly how long he'd been here. He twisted one corner of his lip upwards when he came close enough.

"Hey," he struggled to say, breathlessly. "Andrea."

"Hi," I returned warily.

Even under harsh white lights, Elias was a sight to behold. Thick lashes framing hazel eyes, aquiline nose and luscious lips. Surgery or not, he looked like something God took time to craft with his own hands.

"You weren't in class today," he pointed out.

"I wasn't well."

There was an extended silence, one that was pregnant, and quite possibly going to be an everlasting one if both parties remained silent. There was an elephant in the room, one I lacked gall and gumption to address.

"What are you doing here?" Elias finally asked.

"I dunno," I said honestly, hugging my textbooks closer to my chest. "I was taking a walk, bumped into this quaint place, then saw you."

"Quaint?" He repeated, amused. "Never seen a gym?"

I smiled in reply, and so did he. We stood face to face like that for a few seconds. And you know what: he was still so beautiful, despite everything that happened and everything that was happening.

"Andrea," he said in a strained voice. "I feel like we should talk."

My heart somersaulted. "We're talking," I said as my eyes diverted and found the terracotta tiles.

He twitched a corner of his lips, turning to walk from me. For a few raging heartbeats, I was worried he was going to get back on the treadmill to kill himself by fatigue. But he only grabbed his towel and bottle, before heading back in my direction. He was still catching his breath.

"Give me ten minutes," he told me.

"Where are you going?" I asked instinctively.

Elias nodded his head in the direction of the locker rooms, making me feel extremely dumb for a few seconds. "To shower, Andrea."

"I - I have a test tomorrow," I said hesitantly, unsure if I wanted to have any kind of conversation with Elias. Not because his entire face was plastic, not because I missed Elias so much my heart panged, but because I really had a test to study for.

Elias casted me a weird look, before grabbing hold of my forearm and leading me towards the locker rooms - the one designated for males. I panicked at first, before I introduced myself to the idea that I would be failing tomorrow's test irregardless. It wasn't like one could study in this mental state.

"Don't worry, it's empty," Elias told me. "You can sit here, I'll talk while I shower."

Without waiting for a response, he dug into his gym bag to retrieve what looked like a clean change of clothes along with a second towel. Then he disappeared into one of the shower stalls.

The last time I'd been in a locker room, I was in tenth grade and going through a phase in high school where gym class was compulsory. Never liked this place. The shower stalls at Central High smelled like cheese and had doors with faulty locks, in fact the only stall that locked was the fourth stall. Gym class had little to offer me, but the post-gym class period - shower time - gifted me with valuable life lessons. It taught us all to be vigilant, efficient and strong women. I could count on both hands and both feet the amount of times I'd gotten in fights for the fourth stall, and there still wouldn't be enough phalanges to accommodate the sheer amount of them.

I sighed, nostalgia rendering my mood bittersweet.

The sound of running water pulled me out of my thoughts. I stared at the expensive stalls of Richmond Park Academy. It was so different here; both in terms of smell and functioning door locks.

A muffled voice came from Elias's shower stall.

"Come again, I didn't catch that!" I called back.

The running water stopped, and the sound of a soap bottle being opened replaced the sound.

"I said I'm sorry," Elias said, not muffled this time.

"Oh," my eyes focused on my Calculus textbook, willing the cover to supply me with an answer to his statement. Alas, it didn't.

"Sorry for what?" I asked, dumbly.

For a long moment, the only noise I heard was the lathering of soap against skin, along with the chirping of crickets beyond the shower room. Then I heard Elias make a guttural noise.

"For everything... I guess," he said slowly. "Things are definitely not the same anymore. For me I mean - I mean," he paused. "I mean I also wanna thank you for being by my side back when you didn't know - "

"That you had plastic surgery?"

There was another sigh. "Yeah."

"Did you?"

"No - I mean, uh, yeah. For the scars at least."

"Scars?" I asked back, quizzically.

The sound of running water intercepted my monosyllabic question. I studied Elias's gym bag. Against better judgment, I decided to explore its contents. It didn't look unusual, just a typical Adidas gym bag. It was already unzipped.

There was a towel within, a water bottle, deodorant, and his cellphone. I was so engrossed in trying to identify the contents that I failed to notice the running water had stopped. Next thing I knew, footsteps were approaching.

"What are you looking for?"

It wasn't a malicious question, just a curious one.

I spinned my head around. "Nothing," I said innocently. "I just always wanted to know what you guys carry around in gym bags."

"Pretty boring things," Elias replied as he maneuvered my form to reach his gym bag, shoving his soiled clothes into it. He aimed his wet towel toward a laundry basket at the corner of the room, and it landed successfully where it was supposed to.

But I didn't forget my earlier question.

"What scars were you talking about?"

"Oh," Elias breathed as he lifted the strap of his gym bag, placing it on his shoulders. "Acne scars, dude."

"Yikes," I frowned, not expecting the answer. My eyes tried searching for his face, but he was paces ahead of me, as though he couldn't get away quickly enough from me. So all I could see was the back of his head.

"My parents were so ashamed of me," Elias continued as he pushed the locker room doors open, and holding them for me. "They made sure to home-school me, because yeah, they didn't want people to talk."

"That's all the surgery you had?" I asked curiously, unsure if it was an appropriate question to ask.

But Elias's answer didn't carry any traces of animosity. "Yeap."

His eyes met mine. He cocked his head, and I took my time to examine his skin. It was flawless, not something I ever noticed. Because such was the nature of mankind, we notice flaws more than we notice perfection. Flaws are jarring where perfection soothes the eye. I lifted a hand, rested it on one of Elias's cheeks.

It was warm to the touch. He smiled, and I loved how the movement felt beneath my hand.

"Why didn't you correct Darren that night?"

"What's there to correct? And what for?" He pried my hand off his face, exhaling and starting in the direction of the gym's entrance (or exit).

'Wait, I have a question. Why do you guys have so much beef?" I asked as I chased after him.

He held the gym's door open for me as he replied. "Long ass story. We were childhood friends, our parents know each other, but we never got along. I mean sure, yeah, on the surface we're tight as fuck but deep down, nah."

"Was he ever a rapist?"

Elias laughed at the question.

Took a while for him to reply. "No," he said to the cold night. "No, he wasn't. He's a good person. I'm sorry for lying."

"Are you a good person?"

Elias was silent for the longest time, allowing the night breeze and various insect noises to fill the silence.

Eventually, he replied. "You scare me, Andrea. You ask these questions that really make me think. I wanna think that I'm good but at the same time I know I'm a total moron. Like a bad moron."

I smiled at his words. "You're not a bad moron, Elias."

He halted in his tracks. For the umpteenth time, our eyes met. And he never looked more handsome under faint moonlight. He engulfed me in his arms, for a few seconds, everything felt nice and warm - almost okay. He made me feel so safe in his arms even though one of my hands was holding tightly onto my Calculus textbook and pencil case.

"Why don't you hate me?" He asked into my hair.

"Why would I?" I questioned as we pulled apart.

He frowned. "Because, uh, because of the things I just told you."

"Because you lied about Darren being a rapist?"

Elias shook his head. "No, I mean because I've had cosmetic surgery."

"I'm not that shallow, Elias," I shot him an amused expression. "I learned long ago not to take things at face value. And I hope more people would learn the same. Makes life more meaningful."

And more meaningless, if you knew where to look. But I kept this part to myself.

"You’re actually really deep." Elias said in awe. “Like really profound and shit.”

At that moment, things really felt okay. I had a hot guy who seemed to think I had more brains than I led on. I felt like a figure that someone like Elias could look up to, it validated some emotional needs, fucking made me feel like I had a place in this cruel world.

At that moment, I didn't hate life nor our fucked up value systems. I was a little girl at heart who needed the approval of a hot guy. Life will go on, it will.