Chapter 2 At school

Anne's POV

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For the rest of the day, I tried to focus more in class, despite my sleepy eyes. I also ignored the annoying sniggers from the people behind me. Especially Guinevere. That girl was a witch in humans skin.

The algebra teacher was rounding up his lesson, and we had about five minutes before lunch break. I packed up my books into my bags and sat still on my seat, tapping my feet and fingers nervously on the floor and desk.

I was thinking of ways to thank Emilio for his help yesterday. Even if it was a kind of a proud act on his part, he rescued me from dying of hunger.

I've never spoken to him before, because I didn't talk to anyone. That was how I was, but ever since I moved in with the Matthews, they made it a law. Mind your business, no friends. They didn't want me having somebody to whom I could spill their secret to.

OK, I could say, 'Hi, I want to thank you for lunch yesterday...' No, I'll just go straight to the point by saying th--

"Stop that."

"Huh?"

"The tapping thing. It's driving me crazy."

I looked at my fingers spread out on the desk. Oh, noise. I forgot that he hated noise.

"Sorry, I'm just... nervous."

This was the longest conversation I've had so far with him since we became seatmates in eleventh grade.

And I think it had gone long enough. Talking meant making friends, and making friends was something I couldn't do.

I turned back to picking my books up, when he asked,

"Have you had breakfast today?"

I paused and contemplated answering that. Saying no would get him suspicious, although I didn't know him enough to know if he would bother.

"How's that your business?"

His eyebrows raised a notch, as if he didn't expect me to answer that way.

"Just answer the damned question," he said in a low tone, and coupled with a trace of his Italian accent sounded really dreamy....hmm.

"I--yes."

Just then, my stomach growled, as if it was telling him that I was lying.

Aww come on tummy, can't you cover up for me for once in my life!?

He shook his head, and curls of his dark hair scattered and went to his forehead. I tried not to stare. With a sigh, he got up and picked up his bag.

"Come on."

"Where?"

"Must you always be so defiant and stubborn?"

"Sometimes that's the only way to survive."

When he didn't say anymore, I looked up to find him staring at me.

Oh no, I said that loud.

I offered him a small smile. "It's a quote. From Macbeth."

He scoffed and rolled his eyes, an action that seemed to make him look more....stop it girl, you can't go about noticing looks.

"There's no quote in Macbeth about stubbornness. Pick another lie."

I laughed nervously, and my stomach rumbled again.

"Come on," he said again, ''And don't even try resisting."

"Yeah, and he called me stubborn," I said.

.

"Hey, I assumed we were going to have lunch."

"We are," he replied simply.

"So, what are you doing in the garage?" I asked. "Shouldn't we be in the cafeteria?"

The corner of his lips curled up into the hottest smirk I've ever seen, such that when he said, "Cafeteria's for losers," I didn't hear. My eyes were just on his lips.

I've said he had the face of a god. But I didn't say exactly what made him qualify as such.

He had dark hair that shone in the sun, and was long enough to curl at the nape of his neck, and it was always combed back every time, except for now that some locks of it were on his face.

His dark eyes, hooded by long dark lashes, were so mesmerizing.

A pointed nose, and lips that I'll swear were sculptured by the finest sculptor.

He, as a whole, was a non abstract evidence of beauty.

And yet, he was super quiet, and he was most times alone.

I didn't even notice that he'd gotten into the backseat of a jeep with tinted windows until he called out, "Coming or what?"

I swallowed as I climbed in beside him.

Get your act together girl.

***

The Ray.

I've heard of this restaurant, so popular and expensive.

I turned to look at him.

Was he really serious about eating here? During school's lunchtime? Rich people can be so dramatic.

The driver who drove us here opened Emilio's door, and he got down.

I followed.

"Hey, Are we seriously having lunch here?" I asked, more like whispered.

He nodded. But then he was staring at me again, like he did this morning in school.

"What?"

"What happened to your cheeks