Chapter Five: The First Day Pt I
"I'm telling you, Mar!" A'isha groaned after spitting out her toothpaste and rinsing her mouth. "He's a psychotic, manipulative, two-faced little jerk!" She glanced at Amara, who was paying more mind to applying her eye shadow than to listening to A'isha's words.
"Just listen!" she growled, examining Amara in the bathroom mirror that they stood before. "Has he ever known things that no one should? Have you ever thought that you heard a creepy laugh in your head? Have you seen—"
A'isha froze mid-sentence as a creepy laugh echoed through her mind. "Quit it!" she suddenly hissed, earning a weird look from Amara. "You've been bugging me all morning and I'm sick of it!"
"What the heck have I done other than ignore you?" Amara screeched. Only then did A'isha's cheeks begin to burn as she realized she'd spoken out loud. "What are you on, you freak?"
Another chuckle. "I agree with little Amara."
I didn't ask for your opinion, A'isha hissed back. She cleared her throat as she leaned over to open the cupboard below the bathroom sink, then removed her make up bag and dumped it on the bench. As she unzipped the item and began to search for her liquid foundation, she realized Amara hadn't supplied an answer to her question. "Well has he ever known something he couldn't have known?"
Amara heaved a dramatic sigh as she applied false lashes onto her left eye. A'isha didn't know why the girl was bothering with false lashes; they were going to school for Pete's sake! All she ever wore was foundation, blush and a single coat of mascara.
"If he ever has known something he couldn't have it's called a coincidence – not mind reading!"
"See why I befriended the foolish girl? She's pathetically easy to manipulate."
Leave me alone, you creep!
"But the fun has barely begun," Marik replied with a dark chuckle. She could imagine Sir Jerk-A-Lot vividly in her mind – his mocking smirk making her stomach churn in fear and frustration; eyes gleaming with amusement as they laughed down at her like she was the most pathetic thing they'd ever seen. The image only heightened her frustration. She shook her head sharply, as though the action would shake that image from her brain. Sadly, it didn't.
A growl itched at the back of her throat. "He read my mind, Amara!" she cried. "Why can't you just trust—"
"Oh my God, Ish!" Amara snapped. "Listen to yourself! Can't you see how nuts you sound?" She paused to examine herself in the mirror. She continued upon feeling satisfied with what she saw. "Why have you got it in for Marik? Like, seriously. Are you jelling or something? Cause it's not my fault that so many guys—"
"Get over yourself, Miss Vanity," she hissed before coating strawberry chap-stick across her lips.
"Get screwed, you stupid slut!" Amara snapped back.
"Look up slut in the Urban Dictionary and I assure you it won't be my name that comes up." She half-expected Amara to miss the insult.
"Shut up, bitch!"
"Oh, I'm so offended." A'isha rolled her eyes after applying a coat of mascara. But she stiffened when an irritatingly familiar voice spoke up.
"I'm genuinely impressed," Marik spoke up. He chortled briefly before continuing. "Amara's description is rather accurate."
Bite me, A'isha countered as she stormed out of the room, make up bag in hand. She wouldn't risk returning it to its former location beneath the bathroom cupboard; Amara wouldn't think twice before nabbing her stuff.
"Where?" he challenged.
Right on the ass.
"Perhaps I'll take you up on that offer when I arrive in ten minutes time."
He laughed when she stopped, like his words had suddenly glued her feet to the floor beneath her. "What?" she voiced aloud. Despair dripped from the single word.
"I drive little Amara to school each morning," Marik replied with a laugh. "I imagine you will join us. You're not familiar with the route to Alexandria High and it's quite the walk."
A'isha groaned. Lucky me.
Ten minutes later, three precise knocks resonated through the two story house, a second's space between each one. A crazed squeal immediately followed as rushed footsteps upon the wooden floor met Ish's ears.
"Be right there!" Amara cried happily.
A'isha scoffed. Her obsession with Sir Jerk-A-Lot makes me wanna barf, she thought bitterly. Is she this excited every time he shows up?
A'isha retrieved her back pack from her bedroom, hid her make up bag in a handbag in her wardrobe, and then examined herself in the full length mirror that hung from her closet door. She wore an emerald green and plum purple striped tank top with a pair of lilac skinny jeans and black converse. A long-sleeved, black cardigan completed the outfit, hiding two-week-old bruises that had faded to a dull shade of green. Her long, black hair was tied in a messy bun, a few loose strands framing her face. She nodded, silently deeming her appearance acceptable.
Ish glanced at her double bed, hardly aware of the solemn sigh that had just left her lips. She had managed to savour two—maybe three—hours of sleep last night. Twisted memories surrounding the night of her parents passing haunted her dreams. The night had drudged by so painfully slowly that she had even caught herself wishing for Marik to talk to her with his creepy mind powers, if only to steer her thoughts away from the past.
She could hear Amara squealing downstairs, presumably babbling away about something stupid to Marik, and she couldn't help but feel self-pity as she realized she'd have to endure that all the way to her new school, on top of putting up with Marik.
A'isha heaved a sigh in a failed attempt to calm her nerves. She took hesitant steps to her bedroom door and along the hallway. She paused at the top of the staircase. Marik's attention diverted to her and away from the clucky girl beside him, who was no doubt babbling on about something he cared nothing about. His eyes met hers in an instant, the ice within their lavender depths making her whole body grow cold, a shiver of fear slithering through her and freezing her feet to the floor.
A kind smile graced Marik's lips, but she could see past the false warmth it held. Not that she needed to. He unfortunately had no qualms about revealing his true nature to her anyway. "Good morning, A'isha," he greeted, the calmness of his voice filling her with unease. His eyes narrowed. "I trust you slept well?"
"Actually," A'isha drawled, resting an elbow upon the rail that separated her from the front entrance below, "I had this major headache for some strange reason." She cupped her chin into her palm in false thought. "As though someone had been messing around with my head."
She could see he was fighting back a smirk. "I'm sure you'll get used to it."
She straightened. "I'd rather they just stopped," she hissed as she began to march down the stairs. She came to a halt before her company.
Amara quirked a brow. "What are you guys going on about?"
A'isha smiled sweetly at the blond. "Yeah, Marik; what are we talking about?"
Marik laughed almost angelically. A'isha half-mindedly clenched her fists, imagining them colliding with his cheeks. Her knuckles were quickly beginning to go white. "Very well, Ish." He turned to Amara and gripped her shoulders gently. "Mar, last night A'isha came over for dinner—" His eyes flashed mischievously "—and she feels as though she has a headache from all the reading we did on our study date—"
"Study date?!" the two girls squawked simultaneously. Amara's eyes narrowed on A'isha, who wore an expression of complete and utter disbelief.
"You said you hated Marik!"
"I do," A'isha cried, flailing her arms in the air for emphasis. "I only went over there to pay him back for the Indian food we had on Saturday night!" She mentally slapped herself at her own stupidity. Of course Marik would manipulate that opportunity to his advantage! She marched right up to him, her eyes narrowed to slits. "Why the hell would I study with you!?" Her index finger prodded his chest with her final word. "School hasn't even started yet!"
Marik remained calm. "Simple. You wanted a head start, to avoid being met by confusion in any of your classes."
A'isha scoffed. "That's total bullsh—!"
Marik gently pressed a finger to her lips, clucking his tongue softly as she glowered at him. The anger bubbling within her felt so strong it made her whole body ache, and that anger seemed to raise a notch with each cluck of his tongue.
"Now now, Ish," he murmured softly, an amused chuckle slipping through his lips. "Colourful language is unnecessary." She gripped his wrist and basically ripped his finger from her lips. He only found more amusement in her short-tempered nature.
"Whatever!" Her head hurt more than ever, like someone had wrenched a screwdriver into her brain and was slowly, painfully twisting it without mercy. She silently wished she had a pillow to scream all her frustrations into. "Can we just go already?!"
"Oh my gosh! And then there's Firas!" came Amara's squealing voice. "He is so hot!"
A'isha rolled her eyes, sinking a little further into her seat with her arms folded across her chest. The headache Sir Jerk-A-Lot had so kindly gifted her with this past day was now returning, thanks to the narcissistic girl flailing about in the front passenger seat. The nightmares don't exactly help either, she thought solemnly.
"The other day Firas introduced me to all his friends and I swear they were all so into me from the moment we met!"
A'isha glared daggers at Amara. Maybe that's because they all know you're easy, she thought, wishing the girl would learn to shut up. A'isha looked at Marik, or rather the back of his head, as he was in the driver's seat directly ahead of her. Her bitter glare remained. Through the side mirror on the driver's door, she could see that his eyes were set on the road that snaked out before them, clearly focused on his driving. She wondered if he was even listening, because apart from an indifferent "Mm" every minute or so, he hadn't said a word. Is it weird that I actually feel sorry for Mister High and Mighty right now?
Ish absently looked out the window at the blur of buildings, trees and pedestrians they passed by.
Really, she was rather surprised that Marik was driving so responsibly. She had expected him to speed or something, thinking himself above the road rules, seeing as he seemed like one of those selfish bad boys. At least she had him pinned half-right, for he seemed to have "selfish" down to the 'T'.
"Oh," Amara voiced, slapping her forehead as though she was an idiot; A'isha wasn't about to dispute that. "How could I forget Dani?"
A'isha straightened. Her eyes left the view that rolled past and fell on her cousin. "There's a Dani at our school?"
Amara didn't bother to glance at A'isha. Instead she inspected her nails, coated in a fresh shade of hot pink nail polish. "Yeah," she drawled nonchalantly. "Not spelt like yours though. It's spelt D.A.N.I instead of D.A.N.N.Y." A'isha became a victim of her cousin's threatening stare. "And don't get any funny ideas. This Dani's mine!"
Along with every other guy that makes up the student body. A'isha frowned, a foul memory now haunting her mind. "One ex-boyfriend named Danny is enough for me," she muttered, the view beyond her window now on the receiving end of a bitter glare.
"Yeah, well, my Dani is so into me," Amara enthused, clapping her hands as she looked over at Marik.
A'isha ground her teeth, hardly aware of her nails digging into the firm material of the backseat. She'd had enough of Amara's damn boy talk!
"He's so so soooo—"
"—not nearly as annoying as you?!" A'isha burst out, her fists flying through the air for emphasis. "Seriously, I've heard enough about all these supposedly horny guys to last me a lifetime!"
"Just because no guys are into you!" Amara snapped, glaring venomously at her.
A'isha scoffed. "I know that you know what you say isn't true! Guys were interested in me back in America!" she growled, eyes narrowed on Mar. "And I couldn't care less about guys if I tried! They're all arrogant, perverse jerkwads who don't give a toss about what women think or feel!" She slammed her fist into the back of the driver's seat, hardly caring that Marik wouldn't appreciate the action.
"Hellooooo!" Amara cried out dramatically. "Marik is in the car! And last time I checked he was a guy!"
A'isha laughed dryly. "Oh I bet you checked," she spat, disdain dripping from her voice.
Amara gasped, and then opened her mouth to retort with yet another useless piece of banter. But she was quickly interrupted.
"We're. Here." Marik forced through clenched teeth, his tone of voice tense and deliberate.
A'isha looked ahead of her, at Marik's frame upon the driver's seat. She hardly succeeded in suppressing an amused smirk at what she saw. By the tilt of his head, he seemed to be staring dead ahead, his hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles had drained of most of their colour. Ish decided to examine him further in the side mirror. She tensed instantly. His eyes hadn't been staring ahead like she had first thought. They were staring right back at her through that same mirror, clear displeasure burning within their depths, the emotion enhanced by his furrowed brows.
Ish shuddered, immediately shying away from his daunting stare and glancing out the window instead. She realized that Marik hadn't been lying when he'd said they had arrived at their destination. She silently thanked the gods, relieved that she didn't need to spend another second with either of them, at least until the trip home this afternoon. She decided to keep her mouth shut as she pushed the car door open, not wanting to say something that would continue the argument and prolong her departure from the car. She dragged her heavy leather backpack from the seat beside her as she left the vehicle, barely resisting the urge to slam the door shut behind her. Instead, she gently clicked it shut.
In an attempt to ease her nerves, A'isha inhaled deeply, held it for a few seconds, and then exhaled. But it didn't do her much good, for the slam of a car door made her groan and roll her eyes. She didn't need visual proof to know that Amara had slammed the passenger door and stormed off without a word.
Only when the calm click of a third door met her ears did she sling the backpack over her right shoulder.
"I assumed you would storm off in a tizzy like your cousin," Marik stated, a hint of confusion and curiosity etched through his suddenly calm voice.
A'isha briefly wondered how he had regained his calm composure so quickly.
She was a little insulted that he had expected her to be anything like her narcissistic cousin; though as they had just met, she supposed it made sense to label her as another Amara. "We're nothing alike." Her next two words went unsaid. Not anymore. She sighed, knowing that Marik may have heard her anyway, as he can somehow read minds.
A hearty laugh snapped A'isha from her thoughts. "Marik, my main man!" She was rather taken aback as a tall guy ran up behind Marik and wrapped a burly arm around the teen's shoulder.
The hand over the shoulder, A'isha had learned, was a guy's way of showing affection without running the risk of looking like a pansy. The male mind was a very strange thing, she decided.
"So what's up?" The guy's attention turned to A'isha, and he examined her for a moment, before revealing a charming smile. "And who's your beautiful company?"
Marik's eyes narrowed on his friend. "To you, Dani, she's off limits," he retorted almost bitterly.
A'isha noted that the guy's name was Dani—probably the guy Amara had spoken of. Then she quirked a brow at Marik's behavior. Was he being…protective?
"Keeping all the ladies for yourself, I see," he quipped, whacking Marik on the back.
Marik chuckled, much to A'isha's distaste. Shouldn't he be pointing out that they were not an item? She frowned. If he wasn't about to, then she'd just have to do it for him. She started to open her mouth; however, her words had ended before they had even begun when Dani spoke up first.
"I have an assignment to hand in for Phys Ed, so I'll catch you guys at class." His smile was stunning, A'isha had to admit. It brightened up his whole face. "Catch you both later!" he stated, ending the conversation with a dismissive wave of his hand as he left the parking lot for the school building that loomed overhead.
Once Dani was out of earshot, A'isha turned to face Marik. "Why did you say to him that I was off limits?" she demanded, rather than asked. "I would've thought you were being genuinely protective, but then when he said that you were 'keeping all the ladies for yourself'—" Her eyes narrowed "—you didn't point out that we weren't an item."
Marik laughed wryly. "Who says I was protecting you?"
A'isha scoffed, riled by his insult. The jerk barely knew her! Who did he think he was, implying that Dani needed protecting from her!
Her body trembled with fury, her blood seeming to boil barely beneath her skin. She longed to silence Marik's laughter and regain at least a sliver of pride. Her grip on her backpack tightened, her knuckles quickly going white. That's when she realized—she was holding her backpack, which was full of heavy, dreary schoolbooks and stationary. She quickly formulated her plan of revenge. I'll hit him where it counts. She barely suppressed a smirk. That'll give him something to laugh about.
With every ounce of strength A'isha had, she hurled the bag over her shoulders and towards his 'prized family jewels'.
Her breath hitched, her body stiffening and a blush grazing her cheeks, as she realized Marik had blocked the backpack before it had reached its target. Her grip on its strap tightened as she silently prayed he wouldn't snatch it up and play keep away. Her eyes trailed from her backpack to the smirking teen that still clutched it where he had stopped it mid-swing.
Marik chuckled, his grip on her bag remaining firm. "My my, A'isha," he pressed, his smirk stretching, "Day two of our little mind game and already I control you."
A'isha made an attempt to yank her bag, but his grip didn't falter. Her eyes found his. Hers gleamed with raw defiance and a sliver of fear; his with unyielding mirth and arrogance.
"You don't control me."
His smirk grew. "Whoever angers you controls you," he breathed, eyeing her closely for even the slightest change in expression. Her face showed no change, but he could see her trembling slightly, her body conceding to anger at his words.
"Let go of my bag," she forced through clenched teeth, about ready to wrap her slender fingers around his neck and start shaking him about like in the cartoons.
In one fluid motion, Marik ripped the bag from her grasp and she could tell he enjoyed the look of panic that crossed her face. The mere thought of playing keep-away for her bag was taxing.
"Give it back!" A'isha snapped, lunging for the object.
He held it out behind him and out of her reach. She sure as heck wasn't about to climb over him for the dang thing!
She stomped her foot. "Give me the damn bag!"
Marik smiled a painfully sweet smile that only raised her fury another notch. "No." That sweet smile twisted into a smug grin as he proceeded to unzip the bag's front pocket, jerking it away from A'isha as she lunged for it once more. She bitterly resorted to grimacing at him with folded arms.
Marik glanced inside the pocket, before a satisfied chortle sounded at the back of his throat. "What's this, A'isha? Perhaps your timetable?" He removed the sheet of paper and unfolded it with a simple flick of his wrist. "I stand correct. I assume your cousin acquired this for you." He caught sight of a number combination scribbled onto the top left corner. "Along with your locker number and combination. Perfect."
A'isha grew uneasy at the scheming smirk he now wore. With her next words, her suspicions were sourly confirmed.
"Well, it seems that we have every single class together with the exception of Mathematics." He glanced at her. "I've completed that course, so I have that period free."
A'isha's whole body slumped. "Please tell me you're kidding and that this is your bad idea of a joke."
He shook his head thrice. "Gladly it isn't, Dear A'isha. . . Isn't this just perfect?" he taunted. "We'll certainly be best of friends!"
"Oh, how terribly special!" A'isha spat. Emphasis on the word 'terribly. She actually hoped he'd heard that thought. The fresh memory of her failure to hit him below-the-belt was quickly becoming more and more disappointing. She finally managed to snatch her schoolbag from Marik while he examined her timetable.
After a deep, somewhat soothing breath, A'isha forced what she hoped was a stern expression. She stared at Marik, her bag now slung over her shoulders once again. She held out an open hand. "My timetable," she stated in forced calmness.
Marik's sweet smile returned. "No," he stated, reminding her of a disobedient child. His and Amara's friendship is suddenly beginning to make sense.
His laughing eyes were set on her fierce ones as he pocketed her timetable. "I'd much rather have you rely on me, My Dear."
A'isha clenched her fists, narrowly avoiding a shiver of fear that clawed up her spine. She knew he had said those words in her head to remind her that, even in her mind, he was there.
Her lips curved into a frown, though she tried to convince herself that it would do her at least a little good to permit him to show her around. She knew Amara wasn't about to and no one else was offering. And if she retrieved the school map from her bag, Marik would probably try to snatch that up too. She sighed wearily. She was already exhausted and the day had barely begun; her bad night's sleep had certainly done her no favours.
"Shall we?" Marik asked, gesturing to the school building beyond the car park.
A'isha grimaced at the blond, before a small sigh of defeat left her lips. "Let's get this over with," she muttered, allowing him to lead her to their first class of the day: French.
A'isha had found the floor incredibly interesting the moment she'd entered the building, at Marik's side. Eyes were on her wherever she went, as though she were a drag queen gaily parading through the corridors. Conversations would die as she and Marik passed, before breaking out into secretive murmurs once they were out of earshot. Ish's stomach churned as she wondered what they were all whispering. Did she even want to know? It'd probably just make her feel worse.
Marik had pointed out the Cafeteria on the way to her locker, where she took the opportunity to lighten her backpack by storing away her workbooks for Biology and History—they were her fourth and fifth period classes, so she could fetch them during her lunch break.
Ironically, her locker was only five to the left of Marik's; though A'isha had a sneaking suspicion that it was really no coincidence. First, they had all the same classes; now their lockers were merely a few feet from each other. It wouldn't surprise me if the desk beside his was miraculously the only free one in every class, she thought with a bitter huff.
Another thing A'isha had learned was that Marik is a very popular guy. She already knew that Amara was one of the most popular girls in her grade—the grade below A'isha's. She found that fact ridiculously sad! But with that fact in mind, should Marik's popularity really have been so shocking when he and Amara were 'friends'?
I guess not, she concluded.
She had also learned that Amara wasn't his only drooling fangirl, so to speak. A significant portion of the female student body had greeted Marik in a shy or flirty way, whilst shooting curious or envious glares at her. She knew she'd already made a few enemies. That thought only heightened her anxiety. Other students, both girls and guys, had at least greeted him as he'd passed them by. Either most of the student body is dense, or he is one hell of an actor!
The bell would be going off in five, so Marik was merrily leading her to their first class. He had the sweetest smile plastered on his face, acting so genuine towards her while in the presence of others that —had she not known any better— she would've almost thought him sincere.
"You'll love Mister Hendricks," Marik was saying. "His method of teaching is very easy to follow and his sense of humour makes class quite pleasant."
"Makes class pleasant?" She laughed dryly. "Maybe Mister Hendricks should teach you his ways," she muttered.
"And give you his sense of humour," Marik returned, flashing a smirk. A second later it was gone.
A'isha rolled her eyes, trying and failing to seem unfazed by his snarky remarks. His mock sweetness was bugging her to no end, making her really appreciate her own respectable acting skills, for her acting seemed to be the only thing keeping her hot-headedness in check. Without it, she would've leapt out the nearest window long ago.
"Hey Marik!" a clique of girls called out, but this group actually approached them, much to A'isha's distaste. She subtly inched behind him, her blue eyes searching the corridor as though she were lost in thought, when in reality she was silently praying that the girls would ignore her completely and pay all mind to Mister High and Mighty. A satisfied smirk started to tug at her lips. It seemed to be working.
A moment later, A'isha straightened as she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned half a circle to be met by a striking smile; she immediately recognised it as Dani's.
"Hi there," he spoke in a deep voice. She blushed, all too aware of her weakness for deep, masculine voices.
"Uhh… Hi…"
Dani rubbed the back of his neck as his eyes dropped to the ground. She found his shyness oddly adorable. "You know I… I didn't introduce myself before, and I felt kind of rude when I realised." Her uneasiness evaporated the second his eyes met hers, revealing their sky blue hue to her. "The name's Daniel." With a warm smile, he extended a friendly hand. "But everyone calls me Dani."
"A'isha," she stated, gladly accepting his handshake. A hint of guilt etched its way into her mind. She had labelled him as another arrogant jerk because he was friends with Marik, but now he didn't seem so bad. "But you can call me Ish." She shrugged. "It's way easier to say."
He grinned. "A'isha, but I can call you Ish. Got it!"
A'isha caught herself wondering if he really did have a thing for Amara. Not for any personal reasons; he just didn't seem like the type of guy to fall for her crazy, clueless cousin. Perhaps Amara was seeing what she wanted to see, caught up in her own little fantasy world where everything revolved around her. She rolled her eyes. Wouldn't be the first time.
Dani raised a hand to his chin in thought. "You're Amara's cousin, right?" he asked with no preamble.
Here we go, she thought, dismissing any prior opinions she'd made of him. "If you want her number, a date or something like that, go ask her yourself," she muttered as her hands found her hips. "I am not a matchmaker."
Dani blinked twice, dumb-founded; then realisation crossed his face. "Oh no no no no! She is not my type! She's too, uhh, girly and glitzy for me."
He flashed an embarrassed smile, seeming to be fighting back more words to describe Amara. Perhaps he thought she'd become upset if he called Amara names, but she most certainly would not!
"I just want to know if the rumour's true," he continued, sweeping a hand through his neatly gelled golden hair. "And I guess I was kinda trying to make conversation."
"There's a rumour going around that Amara and I are cousins?"
"You've got it, sister!"
A'isha had to laugh. She enjoyed being in the company of bubbly, humorous individuals, and he seemed to make the cut. "Yeah; the rumour's true."
"Really?" Dani burst out, eyes wide in shock.
"Our dads are brothers . . . Identical twins, in fact."
"But you look nothing alike," he insisted. "I mean, Amara is probably about five foot three. You look to be about five nine. Your face shape is completely different. Plus she has hazel eyes, while yours are dark blue."
A'isha blushed at his final words, a little flattered that he'd noticed her eye colour in such a short space of time. "Well we have the same nose," she pointed out, tapping hers gently. "Ours both even crinkle up when we smile. . . But I must say I'm impressed by your observation. I think someone deserves a gold star!"
"Fist pump!" Dani enthused while concurrently acting out his words. "That makes fifty three!" He beamed down at her like a child, baring a look of innocence that few held onto through to adulthood.
A'isha laughed wholeheartedly. It was wonderful to actually share a pleasant conversation with someone who liked to jest as much as she did. Minus the insults like my self-proclaimed escort.
"Having fun, I see," came a mockingly sweet and increasingly familiar voice.
And thinking of my self-proclaimed escort, A'isha thought, barely withholding a bitter glare in front of Dani. She failed to sustain a warm smile. "Quit it, Marik!" Couldn't she enjoy a pleasant conversation for just five minutes without Sir Jerk-A-Lot butting in?
Marik looked taken aback. Damn, he's good! "What—Did I-Did I do something to upset you?" He sought out her hand, making her tense. His hand was way bigger than hers, and his skin was surprisingly warm and soft in comparison to his cold and cruel personality. "I'm sorry, Ish." His thumb drew circular motions across her palm. "I want nothing more than to see you smile and laugh. As I've said in the past—" He flashed a small smile "—your happiness is my own…"
A'isha blinked twice, her expression a mirror image of the one Marik had worn only moments ago, the only difference being that her shock was real. He sounded like a concerned boyfriend, offering her words of faith to help convince her that what they had was real. Oh, the irony… she thought, painfully lashing away the anger that clawed at her form, desperately begging to be succumbed to.
The blare of the school bell sounded through the corridor, hauling A'isha from her thoughts.
"Come on, Ish!" Marik insisted, lacing their hands together. She frantically wriggled her fingers in a desperate attempt to loosen his grip on her hand so she could rip it from his grasp, but he held on tight. He basically dragged her in what she assumed was the direction of their French class, leaving a wide-eyed Dani staring after them. He was no doubt under the impression that she and Marik were dating.
I didn't even get to say goodbye to the guy! She huffed, eyeing the blond that dragged her. Peachy… Just peachy!
She couldn't handle much more of this. And she hoped against hope that Dani wasn't the gossiping type.