I know The Devil

Chapter 014| The mute

~ You were always mine I just had to find you

All my life I have never been agitated and on my toes like this moment where I shook on my seat like I was guilty of homicide and Law’s impossibly long strides felt like he was moonwalking and ages went by with the way my heart drummed against my chest making me wonder why on Earth I was trembling when I have done nothing wrong.

“Stand up.” His tone was curt, clipped even.

“What crawled up your ass and died there?” I asked as casually as possible, trying to hide my clammy palms, my accelerated heartbeat, and my shaky wobbly legs as I stood up.

He ignored my snarky comment, grabbing my backpack instead and dragging my ankle which I quickly withdrew from his grasp like they were coal. Yes, he was a god in the four walls of this school, perhaps I like him way too much than was advisable and I might be foolish to acknowledge the flutters his words and gestures had erupted in my tummy but I was no pushover and I refused to just give up on all the walls I have spent years building. I was independent, I was the school weirdo and was fine with that because then I was my own person and I was not ready to give that up for anyone. Not even for frickin Law Tyler with his navy blue V-neck tee-shirt and black slacks that made him ooze sensuality and obliterated every sense of sensibility in every hormone-driven female teenager.

“Where are you taking me to?”Content © NôvelDrama.Org.

His eyes flashed with surprise then anger and I could tell that he wasn’t used to being disobeyed. I’ve seen the way people scurry around to follow through with his orders and I needed to make it clear to him that I wouldn’t be one to bend backwards for him.

“Third row. My seat.”

I glanced at the row which was filled with students except for his seat and wasn’t at all surprised. The third row was one of the most famous seats so far in all the classes. Law Tyler sat there next to Blaire, our gymnast president known to have a body that could bend into whatever position to soothe man’s need, then there was Tiana, Leila, Charlie, Tom, the Huggins twins, Sophie, Noah, and Elliot.

Yes, there was a class system even in seats though it was inconspicuous. But in every class, the third row was significant for popularity and although with each class the people changed, since not everyone attended all classes, one thing was dominant, the most popular sat in the third row.

The mouse played when the cat was out hence some students in the second chain of the class system in the row but one thing was certain, I didn’t have a class. Damn a week ago, most of my chemistry classmates didn’t know my name so with my chin upward and tilted, I made to move back to my seat. He held me by the waist, bringing me close to him.

I heard an audible gasp, the same gasp I made but not expressing the same thought. Mine was that of disbelief and surprise, theirs was utter need to be in my shoes which was getting more discomforting as time goes by, this however isn’t a figurative expression.

He grinned at me, his eyes frighteningly blank and saying it lacked in mirth would be a freaking understatement even as he leaned into me. His lips were dangerously close to my ear and his arms hang loosely around my waist but I knew better than to try to pull away from his grasp.

“I don’t want anyone else to talk to you, hear your voice, hold your hands or make you smile. That is only my place, Prudence. You belong to me.” A delicious shiver moved down my spine and I was tempted to lean my head against his hard chest and trust him. Believe that this delicious feeling of being wanted and needed by him wasn’t a lie or worst, a passing itch, a sport.

I elevated my head to meet his gaze and grinned. I was a product of dirt, dried up gasoline in coverall where men sweat blood just for their next bread, a place where only the fittest could survive and the weak were swallowed whole and forgotten. I’ve slept many nights in total hunger he has only seen in movies and wallow in abject poverty that would horrify his way too soft skin that hasn’t seen a day of hard labour or harsh sun rays. I’ve walked the path of most thieves and con artists, made friends amongst violent men and most intimidating lowlifes. He didn’t scare me at all, at least not physically.

“Nobody owns me, Law. I say when, how and if this truce called my life runs.

He took a step back away from me, an amused smile on his face, “Look who is fighting back?” He yelled.

I rolled my eyes, heading back to my seat and sitting right while pretending that my erratic heartbeat wasn’t roaring into my eardrums.

“And somebody was saying she wasn’t cool?” I turned just remembering Tristan, “You just went against the mute. He is like the coolest thing that has happened to the female population of this school apart from makeup.” He scoffed at the last part.

I rose my brow, “The mute?”

“Yes. He never speaks. Hardly except when mandatory but seems like with you is a whole new ball game. He has a lot to say.”

I chuckled, shaking my head at the nickname. “The mute,” I whispered to myself.

“Though I must warn you to avoid guys like him. He would do you no good.”

I didn’t reply. Yet another warning like I didn’t know that already. I knew what guys like Law Tyler were capable of. I was rational enough to understand this, my brain comprehended how dangerous and skilful he might be with words, knew that he was bad news and the type who knew how to play a woman’s body like a harp, with his words, that unsettled, his presence that disrupts and his eyes, those eyes that show yet hides a gazillion of mysteries but the only thing that was seeming to be a problem was hormones. Hormones wanted to jump him, remove his tee-shirt and lick his abs, be under him with no clothes on. God, I was screwed.

The chair beside me on my right-hand side, scraped backwards and even if I didn’t know what he smelt like (which I did because I was a wreck) and didn’t notice Tristan’s brief glare of disapproval, I could tell he was the one. His air, his presence, gave him away.

Everybody was damn wrong. He wasn’t the mute because even his silence was a thousand words crashing over the other and his blank expression was a statement. I was listening hard but I wasn’t hearing a word. Just the echoes.

Mr Followhills arrived five minutes later, five minutes of unsettling silence as the whole class was so scared of breathing a word and the tension in my row with Law and Tristan flanked at my side could be cut with a knife. Five minutes more of watching Law seethe like someone broke the neck of his Fresno doll while Tristan had on his face a frown that proved both guys weren’t “Bros”. I’d have hit my head on the table till I had a lump as gigantic as the Irish potatoes I had for breakfast this morning if he had been a second late.

He didn’t even apologize for being late and although I knew his rueful behaviour must have been caused as a result of unavoidable crises because Evans high school regardless of its cruel occupants was an ivy league high school not only because it was located in the richest town in California and had spoilt brats who were metaphors of the all saints town but because it had a high standard of an educational system.

Yet, I regarded him with spite knowing that he didn’t think we were worthy of his apology and thought we all sighed with relief when the clock ticked and he was still absent, angry that he regarded us as the same. Here to while away time, didn’t care about grades and have daddy’s company to run. He couldn’t possibly think about people like me who have to strive to be here, wake up early so I’ll get on an early morning bus just to be here on time. Yes, most times I pretended to hear him and it might be hypocritical to judge since I might have wished he didn’t come at all on most of my horrible days which consisted of a rumbling tummy and a blurred vision because of toe-curling hunger.

But I’d a dream. To stop living from minuscule paycheck to paycheck, eating expired canned meals and wearing gummed soles of sneakers and I believe the me that woke up every morning regardless of every odd deserved an apology. That was the least anyone could offer her.

I’ve had many things that didn’t sit out right with me here at Evans high school. How loudly Stacey, who wore hardly there skirts blew her chewing gum which was just pure displeasing and caked up Melinda with her choking I bet expensive Italian perfumes which she decided to soak herself in mistaking it for one of the luxurious dips she had in her bathtub just didn’t sit out right with my nostril but I never said a word. I never had the courage. The guts.