Howdy ho guys. Back with another update. Woo! Sorry about the long AN below but I just have a few things I'd like to clear up before you guys start reading the school-centred portion of this fic.
AN: I just have a few notes surrounding A'isha's schooling. Firstly, I'm not familiar with Egypt's schooling (subjects, timetables, school hours, semesters, etc.), so I'm sticking to New Zealand's because it's what I know. It won't mess up the story at all or create confusion, so I don't think anyone will be bothered. I just want to save myself a lot of confusion by eliminating the risk of inaccuracies in this story. I'd probably mess something up if I tried to write by Egypt's system. I will stick to Egypt's semesters though. There are two semesters in a year, and four school terms. The first day of a school year is generally early in September.
Secondly, Alexandria High School is fictional; though there probably is a school in Alexandria with a similar name, my inspiration is not stemming from it.
Lastly, Alexandria High is an English-speaking school. There are a lot of international schools in Egypt so this is not far-fetched. A'isha's father was Arabic and A'isha does know how to speak the language, but she also speaks English because she grew up in America and her mother's first language was English. Same goes for Amara's mother, Aunt Elissa, who is British. Amara's father is A'isha's father's twin brother, so naturally he spoke Arabic as a first language. -sheds tear at having to use past tense when referring to Ish's parents-
Now onto the fun part! Enjoy chapter six of Toying With My Emotions!
CHAPTER SIX
The First Day II
The door opened at Marik's hand. "Ladies first," he coaxed with a sweet smile. A'isha ground her teeth despite her efforts to seem unfazed. That mocking smile was becoming more and more maddening each time he showed it.
"Thank you, Marik." She forced a smile of her own as she passed him by, half expecting his hand to 'slip' and send the door slamming into her, along with copious amounts of embarrassment; but she reminded herself that embarrassing her so obviously didn't seem to be his style. So far, his methods at infuriating her revealed that he enjoyed a more subtle approach, so others would think nothing of his actions…or even find them sweet.
She was sure she saw a smirk tug at his lips, but if it had been there it was gone just as quickly. Her fingers twitched, begging to be curled into trembling fists manipulated by anger, but she refused to give Marik any more satisfaction. Not that it mattered. One peek at her mind and he'd know he was driving her mad…and by the second-long smirk he'd just flashed her way, he didn't even need to go that far to see she was silently fuming. His ability to read people seemed to be just as good as his ability to brass them off.
A'isha examined her French class in a desperate attempt to dismiss these thoughts. It looked like any other classroom, with lone desks lined in rows down the length of the room. Naturally, they faced the whiteboard at the front of the class. The teacher's desk was nestled away in the corner, the whiteboard on the desk's left and a window on its right. This window stretched along the length of the room, looking over the lush school field and the bustling city traffic beyond that.
She made a mental note to sit nowhere near the window. She's a dreadful daydreamer and the window would only fuel that trait. She had to concentrate… She had to work hard on her grades and make her parents proud. For once… she thought; then shook her head slightly to forget it. All it had done was sour her mood even more so.
A few computers sat untouched at the back of the class; a few shelves were beside them, neatly stacked with what she assumed were dictionaries, thesauruses and workbooks. The white walls were lined with posters baring French-to-English translations, student's presentations, and pictures of famous French landmarks.
"Monsieur Ishtar," a welcoming voice lurched A'isha from her thoughts. "And you must be Mademoiselle Dahar!" She came face-to-face with a lean man with a moustache. He had quite a few wrinkles, but his hair, though balding, was not completely grey. Ish figured he was around the age of fifty. He revealed a warm smile that she welcomed with immense enthusiasm, after being met by Marik's smirks and mock smiles all morning.
"Yes, I am." She returned the smile. "My name's A'isha."
"Mister Hendricks." He offered a friendly hand, which she shook without hesitation. "I'm thrilled to have you in my class! I was looking through the report your old school sent me and I must say I'm impressed by your grades." His smile widened. "I'm sure you'll be a pleasure to teach!"
Ish was genuinely flattered. "Thanks! French is one of my favourite subjects," she enthused. Because I'm actually good at it.
"Fantastique," Mister Hendricks enunciated, adopting an impressive French accent. "Voulez-vous vous présenter à la classe en français?"
He was asking her to introduce herself to the class in French. Only a few students had arrived, so she assumed she'd have to wait for the remaining students before her introduction would take place. She swallowed hard. The prospect of throwing herself in front of a bunch of strangers and risking an embarrassing screw up was daunting, to say the least. But perhaps if she made a good impression, making friends would be a little easier.
"Oui, Monsieur Hendricks."
A briefly forgotten voice met her ears. "Bonne chance, Mademoiselle Dahar." It was Marik wishing her good luck, wearing an increasingly annoying smile. She briefly imagined slapping it right off his pretty boy face and the resulting expression of shock that would cause.
But instead, she simply nodded. She reminded herself that if Mister Hendricks hadn't been beside her, she would've glared and said she didn't need his luck. Imagining wasn't nearly as satisfying as actually doing it.
A'isha watched as the infuriating boy left her side to seat himself at the back of the class beside the window, wrapping the straps of his bag around the back of his seat and pulling out his stationary. He began to scribble on a piece of paper, and it looked like he was doodling, but she couldn't quite tell from the front of the class.
"So why did you move to Egypt, Miss Dahar?"
A'isha quickly looked at her questioner instead of the blond teen. She felt a little awkward when she realised she'd been staring at Marik for more than five seconds without sending him a death glare.
"Uhh… I…" As she processed her teacher's question, a painful memory took hold. Her whole body felt numb as she succumbed to feelings of guilt and grief; two emotions that could only be forgotten for so long before they would rear their ugly heads her way. She hated feeling this way, but she tried to accept it… It was my fault… I deserve the pain...the guilt...
"M-My parents…" Her voice was shaky and her eyes glistened with tears. "Th-They…"
Mister Hendricks' face showed signs of guilt, suggesting that he had found an answer amid her stutters. "I'm sorry, Miss Dahar…I didn't realise you had moved here on tragic circumstances."
"It's okay, Sir," she whispered solemnly, her eyes quickly finding the ceiling.
In Elementary School, A'isha's former best friend had ended up moving across the country, leaving A'isha feeling crushed and alone. She remembered how much her sorrow had pained her parents, so one day her father had shown her an article he'd found on the internet. It had read that looking up with your eyes alone—so without moving your head—helped to keep tears at bay. A'isha had thought the information seemed random and a little far-fetched… but these past two weeks, she had found truth in that article more times than she could count. This was one of those times, and she dearly appreciated her father's thoughtfulness in showing it to her. She found it a little funny how things that seem so trivial end up mattering years after they even happened. If only I'd appreciated them when it counted the most.
Without warning, her head tingled ever-so-slightly. She could only feel it if she concentrated… but when she did, it felt like a hundred pins and needles sinking into her skull, reminding her of that weird feeling she got whenever she'd sit on her foot for too long. She felt uneasy, having never experienced that feeling in her head.
Swallowing hard, her blue eyes left the ceiling to be met by two piercing lavender pools. He was staring at her, his expression unreadable . . . and then it clicked. He was reading her mind right now. He had been when she'd been remembering her father's thoughtful deed.
A'isha stiffened. He'd heard her thinking that she should've appreciated them when it actually mattered...and must have just heard her realising this too. She caught herself trembling with fury and fear. How dare he invade her mind! How dare he help himself to such personal information! She couldn't bear to tell her family these things, let alone this arrogant kalet who'd without a doubt use the knowledge for his own pathetic amusement!
Get out of my head! she roared within her mind, her eyes burning into his. His eyes remained void of any expression as they dropped to the sheet of paper on his desk once more. A second later, the tingling feeling was gone. She watched him as he continued to doodle, silently shocked at his cooperation.
Then she noticed something that made her stomach sink. The only free desk was the one in front of Marik's. She ground her teeth. That's no coincidence. His head was still down as he doodled, so she settled for glaring daggers at his blond head of hair. It was nowhere near as satisfying. What other torture does that bastard have in store for me?!
A'isha was jolted from her bitter thoughts by Mister Hendricks. "Bonjour, students," he stated with a cheery smile. "Did everyone have a great weekend?"
There were a few yeah's and uh huh's from his students, though much to A'isha's distaste, everyone's eyes were on her as she stood sheepishly beside their teacher.
"Great! Now today we have a new student who has moved here all the way from America! I trust that you will all make her feel welcomed." He turned to face her. "Why don't you introduce yourself to us in French, Miss Dahar?"
A'isha nodded curtly as her hands sunk into her pockets, an old habit she fell back to whenever she felt nervous. Her eyes fell on her classmates, most of them watching her with intrigue. She made a mental note to avoid Marik's gaze, knowing she'd go blank if her eyes did meet his. "Bonjour tout le monde. Je m'appelle A'isha. J'ai seize ans et je suis originaire de Los Angeles, Etats-Unis. Mes hobbies sont la danse et le chant et mon plat préféré est beurré pop-corn." **
"Fantastique, A'isha," Mister Hendricks praised. His hazel eyes glanced at a brunette girl whose hand was waving in the air frantically. "It seems Khloe has a question for you."
"Uhh…Okay," A'isha said simply, flashing a small smile at the girl.
Khloe returned the smile. "Are you really Amara's cousin?" She examined A'isha. Whether she was looking her over sincerely or with negative intentions, A'isha couldn't be sure.
Ish sighed, certain she'd detest that sentence by lunch time. "Yes, I am." Hopefully this girl was a gossiper and would save A'isha the trouble of answering that question all day.
Mister Hendricks raised a brow at the rather trivial question, before gesturing to the empty seat in front of Marik. "You may sit beside Marik, as he seems to have taken on the role of showing you around the school."
A'isha heaved a sigh. As if sitting in front of Mister High and Mighty wasn't enough, the desk was right beside that cursed window too.
"I'm sure Monsieur Ishtar will be happy to help you out in this class as well," her teacher continued.
A'isha thought she caught a faint glow upon the man's forehead, but attributed it to a simple trick of the florescent lights overhead. She narrowly suppressed a begrudging look as she began to make her way to her seat.
"I'll do anything to help her get settled into the class, Monsieur Hendricks," Marik reassured, grinning eagerly as he watched her approaching form.
Oh, I'm sure you will, A'isha thought cynically as she sunk into her chair, dumping her bag on the floor beside her. She pulled out her stationary, consisting of a new exercise book, a French workbook and her pencil case. She unzipped the case and searched for her blue ballpoint pen.
"Okay, class. You know the drill. First lesson of the week we always tell a classmate how our weekend was, in French." Mister Hendricks smiled knowingly. "And don't stick to the same sentences as last week, guys."
Everyone began to chat to a friend in French, while their teacher pulled out a green marker and began to write up their next activity on the whiteboard.
A'isha felt a tap on her shoulder. Here we go, she thought with a roll of her eyes. She set down her pen and shifted in her seat to look at Marik. He wasn't even bothering to hide a smirk now, not that onlookers would find it suspicious when it looked like she and Marik were talking. He could've been smirking at something she said.
"How was your weekend, Miss Dahar?" Marik enunciated in perfect French. He even had the accent down to a T, and she found his perceptible skill at French disappointing. It would have been nice to be better than him at it, so she could turn the tables and be on the delivering end of the smugness. Not that she was saying she was worsethan him. Her accent and knowledge of the French language was admirable as her third language, next to English and Arabic.
"I don't talk to imbeciles," she returned with ease.
"Then it's a good thing I'm not an imbecile, isn't it?"
A'isha faked a short laugh. "Nice joke."
Marik didn't frown like she'd hoped; in fact, his smirk grew.
"You're so predictable, Dear A'isha."
She huffed. "And you're an imbecile."
"Est-ce que la limitation de votre vocabulaire français? 'Imbecile'." He sneered. "Je pense que Monsieur Hendricks vous donne beaucoup trop de crédit."
A'isha began to piece together his words. Limitation…Vocabulary…Je pense means 'I think'…Beaucoup means 'a lot'…Credit is pretty obvious… She translated his words in seconds. 'Is that the limitation of your French vocabulary? 'Imbecile' I think Mister Hendricks gives you too much credit.' As the words sunk in, she sent a dark glare at the still-sneering teen just as Mister Hendricks spoke up.
"Okay, class. Now I would like you to individually work on the activities listed on the board."
"It seems Mister Hendricks has saved you from further humiliation in spoken French, My Dear," Marik stated, this time in English. He smirked, his eyes flashing deviously. "But our conversation is far from over..."
And he was right. French crept by at an agonising pace. Marik wouldn't shut up! He was constantly distracting her with his freaky mind powers, then enjoying the painfully obvious suffering his taunting triggered.
Ish had quickly learnt to avoid answering any questions Mister Hendrick's would ask the class, fearing she would go blank mid-sentence like she had only ten minutes into the lesson, all thanks to the creepy jerk behind her. Her cheeks had flushed red in an instant, burning from humiliation as all eyes had fallen on her. She must have looked so stupid!
Mister Hendrick's liked to ask them questions to make sure they were thinking. Oh, she was thinking…but not about work like she desperately wanted to! Oh no… She was thinking about Mister High and Mighty. He was all she could think about! Hell, how could she possibly think about anything else when his voice was continuously echoing through her mind?
The only thing that made her remotely happy at this stage was that she hadn't shouted something out by accident, like back in the bathroom with Amara that morning. Although, there was always her next class…or the one after that…or the one after that. The only class they didn't share was Mathematics, because he's already completed the course and has that period free; but she knew he'd talk to her anyway.
Her next class had been English with Missus McCaffery, a middle-aged brunette with a bright smile and colourful clothing to match. She had welcomed A'isha into her class with open arms. Ish already loved the woman and she had quickly learnt as class progressed that Missus McCaffery had a great sense of humour, cracking some jokes that were rather questionable for a school teacher but got the whole class laughing nonetheless. A'isha was sure she would've enjoyed English class if it hadn't been for the chilling voice hissing through her mind the whole lesson.
The desks in her class were arranged in twos, and funnily enough the only free seat had been the one beside Marik. The sweet smile he'd worn as she'd slumped into the seat beside him had left her shaking slightly, barely suppressing yet another bout of rage.
A'isha was beginning to think she would never make friends. Not even one. She couldn't risk starting a conversation with a classmate, fearing that Marik would somehow mess it up and simply embarrass her further.
One time in English, Ish was sure a blonde girl the teacher had called Karissa was about to start a conversation. Karissa was in the seat in front of hers, and had turned to face her, a friendly smile gracing her features…but a moment later A'isha was nearly certain she had glimpsed a golden glow upon Karissa's temple, before the blonde had turned back to her desk and continued to work. A'isha had glanced at Marik after that, sure that he'd had something to do with Karissa's strange behaviour. His reaction had been to simply raise a blond brow and play dumb. And as much as she'd love to describe him as 'dumb' and have the word ring true, she knew better.
A'isha remembered passing the school office on the way to French, so she tried to use morning interval to obtain her locker number and a copy of her timetable from the office lady. One golden glow upon the woman's forehead and she was telling A'isha that the details of her timetable had mysteriously disappeared from the schools computers. A'isha knew Marik had something to do with this; those strange glows were not a trick of the light!
Of course, Marik had followed her to the office and reassured the woman that his timetable was the same as A'isha's, aside from her Maths class, which wasn't until first period tomorrow anyway. The woman had suggested that she could stick with Marik and return after school to try to sort out this "little mishap". A'isha was not impressed.
What the hell is your problem?! she snapped at the teen on her right, who was leading her to their next class. As much as she hated asking Marik this in her head, she hated the idea of passers-by thinking she was a hot-headed psycho even more.
"I'm simply helping a fellow student settle into her new school." The underlying scorn in his voice certainly didn't go unnoticed.
Cut the crap, Marik! Her eyes narrowed on the blond. Why are you doing this?
"What fun is there in a game that gives you all the answers?"
This isn't a damn game!
"I can assure you, Dear A'isha, that you'll have plenty of time to find your answers."He chuckled when A'isha's glare strengthened a notch. "But might I suggest that, right now, it would be more prudent of you to focus your energy on our upcoming lesson."
Which is? A'isha would've hoped for Maths so she could at least not have to look at his increasingly irritating face, but Marik had already confirmed back in the office that her Maths class wasn't until first period tomorrow.
"Why, it is the class that I've been looking forward to all day!" He revealed a charming smile, seemingly innocent to any on-lookers they passed by in the corridors. "Drama."
If our assignment requires a partner and I'm stuck with you, I'm jumping out the nearest window and swimming back to America.
He actually straight up laughed, and for a second she wondered if it had even been genuine. "Well I would love to see you try."
A'isha was silent; then, I wasn't joking.
He faked a sugary smile. "Nor was I."
Miss Mutton made A'isha's English teacher seem depressed in comparison. The pretty brunette, who looked to be in her late twenties, had greeted A'isha with an extraordinary amount of enthusiasm. A'isha didn't believe in destiny…but if anyone were destined to be a drama teacher, it would be this woman. Her enthusiasm had Ish thinking she would convey character emotions well and still keep the class interested.
Marik had told A'isha that this class was one of two rooms they used for drama; this one was for practical work, while the classroom merely a door to the left had desks for theory work. Twenty one students made up her drama class and they all sat cross-legged upon the wooden floor, looking up at Miss Mutton as she informed them of their first exercise.
"Today we're going to start of the lesson with some improvisation, guys!" Miss Mutton announced from upon the seat behind her desk. "Remember there are no right or wrong answers here, so to speak. We're just having fun with this." She reached inside a drawer on her right and pulled out a shoebox. "Now I've got our prompts here." She shook the box. "You'll be performing your prompts in front of the class and this isn't a monologue exercise, so you'll need a partner." She rose from her chair, shoebox in hand, and asked that one person from every duo come and claim their prompt.
"What say you, partner?" Marik quipped, glancing sideways to smirk at her.
Shoot me now.
"But I still need you."
That was sarcasm, genius. She briefly wondered what he had meant by needing her; then remembered this 'little game' of theirs, as he so irksomely called it.
"Genius?"He chuckled within her mind."Thank you for noticing."
A'isha rolled her eyes. Go get the prompt, she almost barked, surprised when Marik complied without even one more cocky remark. He flashed a small smile at Miss Mutton, and then said something that made her chuckle, clearly still embracing his own personal act as the charming popular guy. She couldn't hear what he'd said; however, she could certainly see the second-long smirk that had revealed itself the moment he'd read their prompt.
Oh great. She couldn't deny an uneasy frown. If that prompt has him thrilled then I'm gonna have a mental breakdown when I read it.
Marik sat down beside her a few seconds later. "You're going to love this," he stated, barely masking his delight as he handed her the prompt. A'isha remained cross-legged, while Marik had bent his legs out before him, feet firmly sited upon the cool floor as he rested his bare arms on his knees.
A'isha silently read the sliver of paper and instantly paled.
'Person A owes a favour to Person B, who A hates. B wants A to pose as their fiancée for a business dinner and A has to go along with it. During the dinner, A and B's dinner company ask them about their plans for having children.'
"You have got to be kidding me," she hissed so quietly only he could hear. Her irritation only heightened when Marik began to snicker beside her. Of course he thought this was absolutely hilarious. "Okay, seriously; shoot me now." She dropped the small piece of paper in his lap. "Please."
He only continued to smirk.
"Okay," Miss Mutton shouted out over her classmates' eager chitter chattering. The class hushed after a few seconds, save for a discreet whisper or two. "Has everyone got their prompt?"
Everyone replied with their own choice of a 'yes'.
"Great! Who'd like to go first?" She smiled, examining her students, who immediately found the wooden floor very intriguing. No doubt they were avoiding her gaze in fear of her choosing them, should they make eye contact.
"A'isha and I will go first!" Marik announced, raising his hand high.
Of course we will, A'isha stated to him alone, not even remotely surprised by his willingness.
"Perfect!" Miss Mutton was clearly pleased at his enthusiasm. She gestured to the empty space behind them, at the centre of the room. "Grab any props you may need, set them up, and take the stage."
A'isha rose to her feet, fighting back a blush as all eyes fell on her—the new girl. The paranoid part of her bet that they were wondering how badly she sucked. Thankfully, she didn't; though Marik wasn't exactly putting her in the right frame of mind for acting. She reconsidered that thought. She had been acting civil all morning…That had to count for something!
I'm guessing I'm Person A? she asked, heading towards their stage.
"Naturally."
A'isha watched as Marik handed Miss Mutton the prompt, then passed their "stage" to approach a small bench at the far corner of the room. He picked it up effortlessly and carried it over to their stage. He set it down, then glanced at her, immediately noticing her inquisitive look.
"We don't have a table or chairs," he answered,"so we can sit on the floor and use the bench as a make-shift table." He sat on the floor in front of the bench, facing the class.
She followed suit. That's got to be the least annoying thing you've said all day, she told him with a faint smirk.
Marik ignored her comment. Instead, he watched Miss Mutton, leaving A'isha confused. Why hadn't they started their act yet? She was debating whether this delay was welcomed or not. She settled on 'not' because she really just wanted to get this over and done with.
Her teacher soon supplied an answer to her silent question, reading out their prompt to the class, who snickered at the mention of discussing children. Their reactions only made her blush further, leaving her appreciative of her a dark complexion.
Miss Mutton eagerly shuffled forward in her seat. "Take it away, you two!"
"You'll have to at least pay attention if you want our little act to remain convincing," Marik taunted at a whisper, though loud enough for their audience to hear him.
A'isha realised her eyes were still on Miss Mutton. She looked left to find Marik staring at her. With narrowed eyes, she glanced opposite her at the empty space she imagined their company would be sitting. Her eyes met Marik's once more. "Can you really blame me?" She folded her arms across her chest, huffing bitterly. "It's not like this 'little act' of ours is terribly thrilling for me."
"You always had a choice, A'isha." He revealed a cocky smirk. Something told her it wasn't forced. "You agreed to this little deal of ours."
"You bribed me!" she hissed, barely resisting the urge to fling her arms in the air for emphasis. If they really did have company sitting across from them, said company would no doubt notice if her arms went flying through the air.
She looked opposite her. Their company was meant to believe they were happily engaged. Gag. She imagined them being absorbed in their own conversation; one that would have probably been far more pleasant than hers if it really was happening.
"How many times do I have to say the chocolate wasn't a bribe?" Any prior cockiness had left his voice.
"Save your breath," she hissed, still whispering. "I don't believe a single word that leaves that pretty boy mouth of y—!" She paused, her blue eyes snapping to the spot their imaginary company was sitting. "S-Sorry?" She paused, as though their company was speaking. "Arguing? Us? Nooooo—Well, sort of. We were just—"
"—just arguing over baby names," Marik ended.
A'isha faked a glare, though it was hardly forced. Then a look of horror crossed her face as she looked at the imaginary company across from her. "What? No! I am definitely not pregnant!" She paused again. "When do we want kids?"
She and Marik glanced at one another, before the two spoke simultaneously.
"As soon as possible."
"When hell freezes over!"
A'isha looked at Marik, glaring daggers at his disturbing answer, while he only flashed a taunting smile. They heard the class giggling across the room.
At least they're enjoying themselves, A'isha thought bitterly.
Miss Mutton rose from her seat, clapping heartily, obviously pleased by their performance. The class remained cross-legged on the floor, but joined in on the clapping without hesitation.
"Fantastic acting and improvising, you two!" their teacher exclaimed, grinning from ear-to-ear. "If I didn't know any better, the way you two were arguing so effortlessly, I'd say that was actually rehearsed."
A'isha rolled her eyes. She has no idea… The moment that thought had crossed her mind, she caught an amused smirk from the blond on her left.
"Now then," Miss Mutton began, chuckling quietly to herself, "who'd like to go next?"
Another chapter rewritten...though this is super different from the original writing. But I hope you guys enjoyed it. Oh oh! There was a reference to the AU of this fic (In A Name) that I co-author with The Duelist's Heiress! The reference was to the dinner date that we have written a lot of, but have not posted yet. This reference was the prompt they performed in their drama class. Mwahaha! Thanks to CriesInElvish for the inspiration for their prompt too - she suggested on the In A Name fic I co-author that A'isha and Marik should get asked about when they want kids. XD Also, I felt a little bad about the lack of conversation in this chapter, combined with the wall of "brief overview of Ish and Marik's classes"...if that makes any sense at all. But it is necessary to know all about how Marik treats Ish in class, etc. for relationship development purposes. Anywho, the translation below is of Ish's introduction in her French class. Please review! They are greatly appreciated and really make my day that much more awesome!
Rough Translations
**Hello everyone. My name is A'isha. I'm sixteen and I'm from Los Angeles, America. My hobbies are dancing and singing and my favourite food is buttered popcorn.