The Ballerina & The Devil

Six. More Apologies

I walked into British Lit, a little earlier than usual, to see a most peculiar sight.

Aidan Benson sitting in his desk.

It hadn't taken long to figure out that Aidan had an attendance/tardiness problem. In the past week, not once had he shown up to this class on time. That was if he even bothered showing up at all.

I was going to go ahead and assume that this was a normal pattern for majority of his classes as well. So to see him here, and early nonetheless, was weird.

I combed my fingers through my straight hair and sniffed my wrist to make sure I smelled nice.

Just because I was "done" with him didn't mean I had to look unpresentable.

I walked casually over to my seat and sat down.

From the corner of my eye I saw him turn his head to look at me, but I determinedly kept my eyes focused on my book bag as I got my stuff out.

I had kept true to my word and hadn't spoken to Aidan for an entire week, and I was pretty proud of myself.

There were plenty of times that I was close to slipping up and saying at least a greeting to him, but I reminded myself that I was supposed to be angry at him (or at least appear to be angry at him) and kept my head.

I set my notebook down and pulled my phone out to occupy myself until the bell rang.

I just got passed level 760 on Candy Crush when the silence was broken.

"So, you were serious about not talking to me?"

I looked up to see Aidan staring at me. He was referring to the short statement I made to him before the silent treatment began.

He had sat down in his seat the day after my ballet class with Michelle, late as usual, and I gave him a steely look before saying...

"I'm not talking to you anymore."

I thought he should just be aware.

I stared at him for a second longer before looking back down at my phone, silently.

"You know, I'm not complaining or anything because the last week of you being mute has been pretty awesome," he started.

I ground my teeth together, but remained quiet.

"But I'm not going to lie, I've kind of missed you annoying me," he admitted.

I felt myself perk up, and then I frowned because that was kind of a backhanded compliment.

"Not a lot of people attempt their hand at friendliness with me."

I snorted. "I wonder why. Maybe it has something to do with how rude you are."

"Ahh so she speaks again," Aidan said, sounding amused.

I slapped a hand over my mouth and shook my head vigorously.

No. No I did not just speak to him. Nope. It didn't happen. Who spoke to Aidan? Because it wasn't me.

"No? You don't speak?" He asked.

"Not to you! Wai- ugh! No! Stop talking to me," I slammed my hand on my desk and winced at the sharp pain. "Ow."

"You okay?"

I looked at him to see him suppressing laughter. I glared at him.

"No, I am not okay. Not only did you make me break the silent treatment," I rubbed my palm. "I hurt my hand. Really bad," I glared at him. "And it's all your fault."