Chapter 14: A Senior... Something's Off
The clock on the wall seemed to mock Manon, each tick... tock... an eternity. Her eyelids felt heavy, and the hum of the fluorescent lights above seemed louder than Mr. Fredrick's drone about history. His neat handwriting on the whiteboard blurred no matter how hard she tried to focus. Even the thought of reaching for her pen felt like lifting a lead weight.
A new girl, her eyes bright with curiosity, raised her hand. "Mr. Fredrick, excuse me, may I please use the restroom?" she asked politely, placing her pen on her desk with a careful click. Manon glanced at her briefly, a fleeting spark of interest in those eager eyes, before her chin slumped back into her hand, a soft sigh escaping her lips like air from a punctured balloon.
Ding! Manon's spine straightened as if pulled by a string. A jolt of something almost like excitement shot through her, even though it wasn't the blessed sound of the dismissal bell, just the slightly less torturous chime signaling the mid-morning break. Still, a small, involuntary smile tugged at the corner of her mouth at the thought of escaping the stuffy classroom.
No mission today. Officially free, she thought as her sneakers scuffed softly against the linoleum as she trudged up the stairs. So why this little tug in my chest? Sadness? Boredom because there's no mission? That's a bit pathetic. She glanced back over her shoulder, a habit ingrained from her recent, more adventurous outings, a quick flick of her eyes to see if anyone trailed her. The last time she'd been "aimlessly exploring," supposedly looking for Andrien, she'd stumbled upon a surprisingly secluded rooftop hideout, the city spread out like a map below.
Reaching the next floor, she noticed a rarely used service door standing slightly ajar, a sliver of darkness within. Gently pushing it open with a soft creak, she stepped inside and let out a quiet breath. "Finally, some actual peace and quiet," she murmured, leaning against the cool, slightly rough metal railing of a narrow balcony overlooking the bustling school grounds. A gentle breeze lifted strands of her hair, and her blue eyes softened as she took in the surprisingly expansive view, the distant traffic a low hum.
"Wow," she breathed, looking down at the ant-like figures of students milling below. "You can see almost the whole school from up here."
As she turned to leave, a little startled by the sudden thought that someone else might know about this hidden spot, she bumped squarely into a solid form. Oof!
Her eyes snapped upwards, a reflexive apology already forming on her lips – "Oh, um, so—" – but the words caught in her throat. Their gazes met for a fleeting, uncomfortable second, his a cool, distant blue, before hers dropped to the scuffed concrete floor. "Oh, um, sorry," Manon mumbled, clutching the slightly squashed sandwich bag in her hand, the plastic crinkling softly.
Andrien walked past her without a word, his expression strangely distant, almost… cold. His eyes were fixed straight ahead, not even a flicker of recognition in their depths. It was as if she were a complete stranger, a ghost he walked right through.
Manon quickly scooped up her fallen lunch, a knot of confusion and something that felt a lot like hurt tightening in her stomach. What was that? He looked right through me. She hurried away from the balcony, the image of his blank face sticking in her mind.
Back in the familiar, slightly stuffy classroom, the air thick with the scent of old textbooks, she looked up at the gently spinning ceiling fan, its rhythmic whirring doing little to soothe the unease that had settled in her chest. What was with Andrien? He's never been that… dismissive to me before. It was like he didn't even see me. Did something happen?
Ding! Her phone vibrated discreetly in her pocket with a new message. It was from Ria: Snacks after school with Mariam and me? My treat!
It's not like I have anything else particularly thrilling planned, she thought, a familiar hint of boredom trying to creep in despite the morning's odd encounter. Typing quickly with her thumb, she replied, "Okay, sounds good."
The remaining classes dragged on, each minute stretching like taffy, until the final, glorious bell finally shrieked its release, unleashing a tidal wave of students eager to escape the brick building and breathe fresh air.
Manon walked towards the main entrance and spotted Mariam and Ria waiting for her by the gate, their bright outfits – Ria in a sunshine yellow top and Mariam in a vibrant pink dress – a cheerful contrast to the slightly gloomy, overcast afternoon sky. She hurried over, and after a quick, enthusiastic greeting filled with giggles, they headed towards their favorite little snack restaurant a few blocks away, the scent of sweet pastries already in the air. Mariam and Ria snagged their usual corner table by the window, the worn wood smooth beneath their elbows, while Manon went to the counter, the bell above the door jingling softly as she approached to place their order.
As she waited, the clatter of dishes and quiet chatter was suddenly punctuated by a rather heated argument erupting from another table. Glancing over, she saw a blonde-haired guy leaning forward, his brow furrowed in an intense, almost accusing stare, at a girl with a frustrated expression, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Before Manon could politely avert her gaze, his eyes flicked towards hers, holding her gaze for a brief, unsettling moment – a flash of something sharp and maybe even angry. Manon quickly looked away, a strange sense of being caught in something private washing over her, a prickle of discomfort on the back of her neck. She glanced back a second later to see the girl he'd been talking to stand up abruptly, her chair scraping loudly against the floor, and storm out of the restaurant, her shoulders stiff with anger, the slam of the door echoing behind her.
"Miss?" the friendly woman behind the counter called her attention, her voice warm. Manon blinked, a small, apologetic smile appearing on her face. "Sorry," she murmured, her cheeks feeling slightly warm. "I'd like..." She quickly placed their usual order – a large slice of their famous rainbow cake and three bubble teas – and hurried back to her friends, the lingering sense of unease from the overheard argument still a faint hum beneath her thoughts.
Ria and Mariam were already deep in conversation, giggling over something on Mariam's phone, their laughter light and carefree.
"Manon?" Mariam asked, drawing her attention away from her thoughts.
"Hmm?" Manon replied, looking up, the image of the angry senior fading slightly.
"Did you see those two arguing earlier?" Mariam gestured subtly with her eyes towards the now-empty table, a curious glint in her eyes. Manon nodded slightly. "I overheard a bit. Apparently, he's in our school. A senior, can you believe it?"
Manon looked at Mariam, then nodded again, a vague sense of recognition flickering in her mind, a fleeting image of blonde hair, though she couldn't quite place him. "Okay." Ria and Mariam continued their chatter, their voices a comforting background hum, until the last sticky crumbs of their shared cake had disappeared from the plate.
They left the cozy restaurant together, the sky outside now a heavy, bruised grey, the air feeling thick and damp. Ria looked up, a slight shiver running down her spine, making the tiny hairs on her arms stand up. "The weather suddenly took a turn," she commented, pulling her light cardigan tighter around herself. "It feels absolutely freezing."
Mariam glanced at her friends, her brow furrowed with concern as a fat raindrop splattered on her nose. "I have a feeling it's going to rain any minute now." Ria nodded in agreement, looking up at the ominous, swirling clouds.
"Good thing I actually remembered to bring an umbrella today," Manon said, patting her backpack, feeling the familiar shape through the fabric.
"No problem for us," Ria replied, linking arms with Mariam, their steps quickening. "Mariam's and my house isn't too far from here. We'll go this way so we can get home quickly before the downpour starts." She and Mariam waved goodbye, their cheerful faces already a little strained with the urgency to get home, and headed down a side street. Manon waved back and continued her walk in the opposite direction, the wind picking up, carrying the scent of rain.
As she walked, the first fat drops of rain began to fall, splattering on the sidewalk like tiny explosions, quickly escalating into a heavy, insistent downpour that drummed loudly on nearby rooftops. Seeking shelter, she ducked into the shadowy entrance of a nearby park and fumbled to open her umbrella, the fabric snapping open with a whoosh. Standing under the relative dryness of a stone bridge, the rain echoing around her, she noticed someone else standing deeper within the shadows, seemingly unbothered by the sudden deluge, simply looking up at the rain-streaked sky, his face tilted upwards. Manon glanced at him for a moment, but the increasing fog of the heavy rain blurred his features.
"I thought you would have offered me your umbrella, like they always do in cheesy movies," the guy said, his voice calm and even, cutting through the drumming rain, his gaze still fixed on the downpour as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world.
Manon looked around, surprised. The echoing under the bridge made it seem like his voice came from everywhere and nowhere. "Me?" she asked, pointing a questioning finger at herself, feeling a little foolish.
He turned his head slightly, just enough for her to see his profile – the sharp angle of his jaw, the way his wet hair clung to his forehead. "Aren't you the one with the rather large umbrella?"
"Hmm," Manon replied, a little confused by his lack of urgency, the rain plastering her own hair to her temples.
He turned fully to face her, his expression serene, almost otherworldly. Manon's grip on her umbrella tightened slightly, a prickle of unease replacing her initial surprise. There's something about him...
He walked closer until he stood just under the edge of the bridge, the raindrops beading on his eyelashes, glancing down at her. He looks… vaguely familiar, like a half-forgotten dream, Manon thought, studying his features more closely through the curtain of rain.
"Oh! You're the one from the restaurant," she murmured, the realization dawning as his eyes met hers again, a hint of a knowing smile – almost a secret smile – playing on his lips.
Manon turned slightly away, feeling a little awkward at their unexpected second encounter, the damp air suddenly feeling thick with unspoken words.
He glanced down at her neck, his gaze lingering for a moment on the collar of her shirt. "Your necklace... I haven't seen anything quite like it." Manon instinctively touched the smooth, cool silver of the pendant beneath her shirt but remained silent, a sudden feeling of being observed too closely making her uncomfortable, like a bug under a microscope.
Within a minute, as quickly as it had started, the heavy rain began to ease, the drumming softening to a light, persistent drizzle. Manon reached into her bag and pulled out a second, frillier umbrella – a spare she often carried, a habit her mother had instilled in her. She offered it to him, holding it out hesitantly, the wet fabric cool against her palm.
He looked at the offered umbrella, then took it from her without a word, his fingers brushing hers briefly – a fleeting touch that sent a strange shiver up her arm. She also offered him a small, slightly damp towel from her bag. He accepted that too, his gaze still oddly intense, as if he were trying to read something in her eyes. Then, without another word exchanged, she turned and left the shelter of the bridge, the drizzle now just a cool mist on her face.
He watched her go, not saying anything, his figure silhouetted against the fading rain, the frilly umbrella a stark contrast to his serious demeanor. Manon didn't bother to look back, a strange mix of curiosity and unease churning within her, like a storm slowly brewing. After a short, slightly damp walk, she reached the familiar wrought-iron gates of her large home, the rain-slicked stone gleaming in the dim light.
She flopped onto her bed with a sigh, the springs creaking beneath her, her fingers tracing the cool metal of her necklace pendant. Her thoughts drifted back to the mysterious senior she'd met under the bridge.
He seemed… different. His calmness in the downpour, his direct gaze that felt like it could see right through her, his comment about her necklace… His aura felt unusual, somehow detached, like he existed on a different plane. And he's a senior at our school, she mused, her eyelids growing heavy with the lingering exhaustion from her recent ordeal and the strange encounters of the day. Manon gently closed her eyes, the enigmatic image of the senior, his serene face framed by wet hair, lingering in the quiet darkness behind her lids.