Chapter 25

Belle opened her emails to find her Course Tutor had sent her three messages. The first and second asked if everything was okay. The third inquired as to whether she was still intending to complete her studies.

"I have to go into University today," Belle spoke up quietly, fearing his response.

He was searching for a book, pulling clothes and empty crisp wrappers from under his bed. Breathing heavily, he paused his search to face her.

"What?"

"I, erm, I'm going to get kicked off my course if I don't go to Uni today," Belle told him.

"So?" he asked before continuing to search.

"Bingo!" he smiled, pulling the book from a drawer.

"You could ditch school for a day and come with me?" Belle offered in a tone of voice that suggested it would be fun. This was a rouse. Hanging out at Uni as a non-student would be far from entertaining, but maybe she could trick Damien into thinking it would be.

"Why would I do that?" he asked. He sat on the bed, looking down at her with wide, questioning eyes.

"It might be fun?" Belle shrugged.

"Hmm." Damien frowned. He wasn't buying it.

"Please? It would help me out. I'd be super grateful," Belle tried. The face he made in response suggested he didn't care about helping her or gaining her gratitude.

"And you are way too smart for school. Uni would be more on your level," Belle said, switching tactics to flattery.

"Smart enough to see what you're doing," Damien huffed. "Actually, I like the idea. I don't want to face school today. I have a sneaking feeling the gang are going to be on my case."

"Why?" Belle asked.

"You remember I mentioned a girl called Grace?" Damien asked. "She killed herself."

Those words sent shivers down her spine, not just the implication, but the way he delivered them. So cold and uncaring.

'If I died, would he have the same attitude?'

"That's horrible," Belle muttered, stomach churning with guilt that her first reaction to the news had been self-concern. "That poor girl."

She understood perfectly. Had Damien not agreed to let her stay, she knew for certain she would have suffered the same fate by now.

'Do I owe my life to him?' Belle wondered, watching the boy shove snacks into his backpack. 'Even though it's his fault I'm in this situation, he didn't have to let me stay here. He could have turned me away and left me to die like Grace.'

Belle sighed.

'It's my fault I'm in this situation,' she realized. 'All I had to do was let him down gently.'

"Thank you," Belle said.

"I just told you I'm not doing it for you." Damien rolled his eyes.

"No. I mean thank you for not leaving me to die. You didn't have to let me stay. I just... I want you to know I'm grateful." She lunged forward and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you."

He grasped her shoulders and pushed her back, curling up his lip.

"Nobody likes a suck-up, Belle."

He put on his backpack and sighed.

"Let's go then."

Belle didn't take it personally. She'd known him long enough now to realize he was always grumpy in the morning. It was best not to talk to him until he'd had his morning can of energy drink. Today he bought one for Belle during his daily trip to the corner shop. It tasted like battery acid cut with vinegar, but she was glad for the buzz of sugar and caffeine.

When the bus screeched to a halt opposite the pair had to run across the road, flagging down the bus driver. Luckily, it was the nice one and he waited.

"Two returns please," Belle asked, getting out her wallet as Damien loped to the back of the bus and got comfortable. He took a seat beside a guy Belle knew only as 'fit guy on the bus.'

'Fit guy on the bus' was present for Belle's morning journey most days. He alighted by the art college where he met a group of friends... not that Belle was stalking him. She just noticed him. A lot.

With dark hair, amazing tattoos, and the cheekbones of a Greek god, he was her ideal man. It was shameful to admit, but she'd drop Drew like a pot potato if this guy took notice of her.

It took her a moment to remember she'd already dumped Drew.

'He's probably already back with Mikki by now,' she thought.

When Damien whistled at her the fit guy glanced up, briefly making eye contact with her.

'Great, Damien is going to make me look like a freak in front of my soul mate,' Belle groaned inwardly.

'Oh, pleeeeease, Damien,' she prayed. 'Don't make me look like a twat.'

"Sit," Damien huffed, pointing at the floor.

A dubious white stain, sticky remnants of cola or juice and a couple of tooth-riddled discarded gums marked the floor. Belle did her best to avoid them, tucking her short skirt between her legs as she crouched and sat. It wasn't her first time sitting on the floor of public transport, but it was the first time with seats available.

It wasn't exactly what you’d describe as comfortable, and she got a few weird looks, but aside from that, the journey was painless. Until Damien tutted and tore out his earphones.

"My phone is dead," he said, tone accusatory as though it were somehow her fault. "I'm bored."

When she didn't reply, Damien poked her in the shoulder with his boot. "Entertain me."

Belle looked about.

'What does he expect me to do?'

"Sing me a song," he demanded.

Belle swallowed, feeling heat rise in her cheeks as she realized Fit Guy was listening to their conversation.

"I'm a really bad singer," Belle argued weakly.

"Do it," Damien said.

"Please," Belle whispered. She laced her knitted her fingers together, making the most pathetic pose she could muster. "I'm begging you, for the sake of the other people on the bus mostly."

She was making a joke of it, but honestly, the thought of singing to him while Fit Guy sat there judging her was mortifying.

"Do it," Damien repeated in a firm voice.

The only song that came to her mind, complete with all the lyrics, was 'Drag the Lake' by The Amity Affliction.

Her face was roughly the color of beetroot as she coughed and quietly began to sing.

"Drag the lake, you won't find me. I've been tempting fate with my heart beside me."

She watched as Damien's mouth curled into a smile.

She'd listened to this song roughly a thousand times, knew all the words by heart. Still, she found herself getting flustered under the pressure.

When she forgot a line a quiet and melodic voice chimed in, "Nothing wrong with my depression..."

This jogged her memory.

"My sick and miserable obsession."

She flashed a shy but grateful smile at Fit Guy, who gave her a pitying look before turning his attention back to his phone.

'Great, he thinks I'm a freak,' Belle thought.

As the bus lurched around the roundabout, Belle sighed with relief that his stop was coming up. She would still be stuck with Damien, but at least he wouldn't be there to witness the humiliation.

As usual, Belle stared at him as he got up from his seat. He didn't look up from his phone once as he departed.

Damien made a vomiting gesture once the guy had left. "He so obviously fancies you."

"What? There's no way," Belle scoffed.

"Why are you saying it like that?" Damien asked. "You're a ten and he's barely a five. Without the cool tattoos, hair dye and clothes he's just a spotty ginger kid."

"He's not—" Belle went to argue, but what was the point? She racked her memory of the guy's face.

'Is he ginger?' she wondered. Not that it mattered. Her own hair was dyed black so who was she to judge?

"Whatever. If you love him so much why don't you go marry him?" Damien huffed.

'I would if he asked me,' Belle thought, keeping that bombshell to herself.

When the bus pulled up outside the University, by permanently green, finely kempt fields and the mixture of modern and historic buildings Belle started to question her decision.

If she had come alone, her brain would have all the power of a potato battery and she'd have to talk herself out of suicide every few minutes. Still, with Damien here, she might find herself having to explain herself out of some sticky situations.

'I should have just told my Tutor I'm quitting.'

She looked to Damien, who looked back at her expectantly.

"Well, lead the way then," he insisted.

"Right," Belle nodded. All her lectures were in the same block, and though she couldn't remember which theatre they were in today, all she had to do was find one of the other two hundred or so people on her course.

After spotting a guy she recognized entering the Grayson Theatre she ducked into the darkened hall, searching for a seat close to the back.

"Won't your lecturer notice I'm not a student?" Damien asked, taking a seat.

"Not if you stay quiet," Belle said. "Please stay quiet."

"Belle-donna!" A voice cried from behind.

Belle turned to find her friend Danny jumping over the rows of seats like an Olympic hurdler. He gave her an awkwardly one-sided hug before asking where she'd been for the last week or so.

"Flu," she lied.

"Yuk," Danny cried, wiping down his coat. "You could have told me before I hugged you."

"I like him." Damien chuckled.

"I didn't ask you to hug me," Belle uttered under her breath.

"Who's your friend?" he asked, noticing Damien for the first time.

"Yeah, who's your friend?" Damien teased, looking up at the pair with a sly half-smile.

"Damien, Danny, Danny, Damien," she introduced.

"Oh, like the omen?" Danny smiled.

"Exactly." Damien rolled his eyes. "They'll just let anyone into Medical School."

This comment appeared to hurt Danny's feelings. He acted like a goof, but he was a smart guy. Just odd. On their first day, he'd stolen her pencil case and forced her to chase him around the theatre, throwing it to other friends he'd made. Unlike Belle, he'd started plenty of friendships, yet he still insisted on clinging to her side.

"Are you even a student here?" Danny snarked. "You do know lectures are for students, right?"

"Please don't say anything," Belle asked him.

"Who is he?" Danny asked again. Giving Damien's name didn't explain who he was or why he was there.

'What can I say that won't piss him off?'

"He's my boyfriend."

"What?" Danny cried. "I thought you were dating that drummer guy with the lame pink hair?"

"We broke up." Belle shrugged.

"So, let me get this straight. You broke up with your boyfriend who you said you loved so so much... to date this guy?" Danny asked. "How old is he?"

It didn't make a whole lot of sense, now she thought about it.

'I couldn't have said he was a friend?' Belle questioned her past self. 'Hindsight is 20 20.'

"I'm eighteen," Damien helpfully informed him.

'You couldn't lie?' Belle thought, gritting her teeth.

"You're dating a high schooler?" Danny frowned. He seemed personally insulted to learn this.

'Did he think that me and him might become a thing?' Belle wondered. Looking at his face, she guessed so, though she couldn't remember ever once showing sexual interest in him.

"Is he good in bed or something?" Danny asked. A rude question if she'd ever heard one.

"I must be, you should hear how she begs for it," Damien said without skipping a beat.

Overhearing, the girl sitting on the row behind began choking on her milkshake. The lad sitting next to her had to pat on the back to get her breathing again.

Belle had never been happier to see Dr Sandler's face. As he gave his lecture on genetics, Danny didn't get up to any of his usual antics or jokey behavior. Damien seemed to take in more of the lecture than Belle, who mostly sat and worried about her future. She couldn't drag Damien to every lecture and couldn't cope without him.

The only way she'd be able to continue having a life was if Damien released her from the spell.

'What are the chances of that?'