Lavamarble

3. COUNTERPARTS

Psychology class was next on the agenda, and of course, I would be sat next to Lucas. Who else? I was seated at the end table as I only had one friend in there and he was just as much of an oddball as I was. We often made jokes and doodled together in our exercise-books, and we would get away with it because our young teacher had a soft spot for us. She said we were 'animated'. Or it could have been that because of her age she had trouble asserting authority over us; she was only a few years older than us.

"Heather and Harry are good friends, but I am sure they will treat you well, they're lovely," Miss Bella smiled kindly at Lucas, mistaking his reservation for nerves. She spoke quietly to be discreet, but most eyes were already on Lucas already, even if they were trying their hardest to look like they weren't.

Miss Bella managed to tear her big blue eyes away from the gorgeous blond to me and Harry, who were looking as innocent and warm as possible. Even if I couldn't win the student body over, I was happy most of the teachers I had were on my side. It hadn't always been that way; I wasn't very good at sports and back when I took Games and PE, the sports teachers seemed to do everything they could to humiliate me. I used to be a little chubbier than the other girls (you know what they say about private schoolgirls from rich, body-shaming families) and they weren't shy about pointing it out even if they used fancy words like 'endomorph'. They later found out that wasn't the case, once I'd lost my puppy fat, I turned out to be rather slim. Not especially so, but definitely in the smaller half of the girls in my year, and so they couldn't pick on me for that anymore. I didn't like comparing myself to the other girls, and I thought when I physically looked a little more like them, I would stop. Turns out that the mind can't lose weight.

"Yes, miss," said Lucas, and the two exchanged a lingering look. I wanted to puke; I couldn't decide who was more inappropriate. I felt like Miss Bella was just being her usual, meek self, but there was certainly a glint in her eyes for Lucas and he was encouraging it.

He smirked at me then, "I think she is right."

"What?" I asked.

"You're rather lovely."

Had I ...heard him right? Lovely? I don't think another boy had ever called me that. Once or twice some kid on the street would call me 'sort-of pretty' or 'cute', but it hadn't happened enough for me to actually think this was a thought shared by many others.

I must have heard him correctly because I definitely heard Harry's follow-up gagging noise.

"Sorry," he excused himself. "Must have been the carrots in the pie."

I looked at the desk, grinning to myself, then felt bad because this was how many people would act around me. I swallowed my pride for just a moment. "This is Harry Lee," I introduced the cute half-Korean boy on my right side.

"Yeah, hi," Harry, stifled his own grin.

"Mother's side or Father's?" Lucas said without hesitation. My mouth dropped open, and I slowly looked at Harry, both fearing and anticipating his reaction.

Harry was taken aback but he didn't look mortally offended, "Mother's," he said quietly.

Lucas nodded. I pursed my lips, I myself was mixed race but I didn't like answering questions about it. I supposed it was because my Tunisian father wasn't in the picture.

"My mother was from France originally," Lucas said. "She had a really nice accent, but I grew up here and never inherited it."

"Had?" I was quick to pick up on that part. Now I felt I was the one stepping over the line. I shouldn't have, Lucas had already crossed it with his question to Harry.