Miscellaneous

V- Charmaine

"Every day, the two of you lose your sanity even furthermore," Says Tomás, only starting with his never-ending rant. "That man could've killed you two together, especially you, Charmaine."  

"Dios mío, we aren't babies, Tomás." Sighs Priscilla as she sorts her locker yet again. Both me and Priscilla can be clean freaks sometimes, especially when we tend to be stressed. I'm the colour-coding kind, with a tendency to organize things to be visually appealing. Priscilla, on the other hand generally hates clutter.

It's easy to hate clutter when you weren't taught that everything was valuable.

She shuts the locker close and faces Tomás, "Breath, dude. We're alive, okay?"

For a dude as huge as Tomás, it's funny that he listens to everything Priscilla says. He might be stubborn, sometimes even defensive, but when Priscilla puts an end to a conversation, it stays that way. I've always admired that about him. The fact that he can put his pride aside to preserve connections that are valued more than his ego, just proves how great of a person and friend he is. That's something I could never do unless it's necessary. 

We walk to our perspective classes;  Tomás to History, Priscilla to her fashion design class, and I take myself to English. Before that though, I swing by the water fountain to refill my bottle which usually, comes empty to school with me.

That's when my biggest nightmare unfolds.

James. Here. In front of me.

He sports the school uniform with a slight twist, obviously yet another trench coat. It's almost mind-boggling to me how he's dressed like this even indoors when everyone is practically dying of the heat. His eyes are on the bottle he's filling, then they follow my silhouette and finally, my face. I hate the way I stand like a dear under the headlights as he fulfills his desire to gaze at me, it makes me feel like a goddamned idiot but his eyes on me in itself make me feel like a specimen to be observed. 

Yesterday, I was hoping to see him somewhere, anywhere, just to apologize to him for my wrong-doings. I never asked for him to summon himself to my school, though. This situation is quite the exemplary reason why they say "be careful what you wish for" and only now does it sink in.

"Sorry for taking too long." He starts with a generous smile on his face. I don't physically even understand how he's smiling at me, with his eyes too, as if I didn't demolish his heart literally last night.

I stumble on my words and shrug, "You're good, it's alright."

Charmaine, who says both of these phrases together?

"I mean, you sure? The class has started and I've been making you wait here for a good five minutes." He says as if he's lengthening the small talk to taunt me. "Plus, this place looks like it's well-observed by monitors and whatnot."

"Yes." I manage to say.

Now he fully faces me, one hand stretched my way just like the very first time we talked. His gaze is just as welcoming and his demeanour makes it seem as if we're two strangers who are just getting to know each other. "I'm James, and you're...?"

I spit it out like it's a warning, "Charmaine."

A look of registration spreads all over his face, then he nods. "Well, Charmaine, as much as I'd love to chat with you furthermore, class awaits." He says, "We can chat on my way to class though. It would be great if you showed me the way."

"Sure."

"You don't understand how much of a life saviour you are to me. I've got English with Mr. Hughes, hopefully, you're familiar with him."

God strike me with lightning if that's what it takes to end this suffering.

I pull myself together, smooth my uniform, and flash him a stellar smile. Enough of this messy composure and dreading, if he's going to be in my class, I might as well make it worthwhile. Plus, who is he to taunt me? I'm Charmaine Ladislava Langlais, nobody ever messes with me. Not even this James dude with his expensive trench coats and smooth talk.

Nobody.

"Right this way, James." I drag at his name, taking the lead to the classroom. The walk is fairly quiet, with me trying my very best to keep everything intact.

Our hallways are almost hospital-like, with dull colours and rounded corners. Even the lighting is depressing, glaring at you if you dare to look at the equally boring ceiling. The lockers are a uniform dark grey, with no variety whatsoever. It's a bedlam of sadness and office lifestyles.

My feet stop short in front of the spacious classroom, "I'll go in, you come after."

With that, I slip in, met by the sight of a pitch-quiet classroom staring at me. "Mr. Hughes, I'm-"

"It's alright, Charmaine. Just take a seat, please." He interrupts me, before going back to dissecting his beloved piece of literature with the class. "Do you believe in evil existing in everyone? Even the good?" He suddenly asks me.

I shrug, "I mean, I don't know. I guess so, yes?"

He leans on his desk, legs crossed with a book in hand. In our school, Mr. Hughes has to be the students' favourite. One, because he easily lets anything happen without consequences, as long as you're respecting everyone in the classroom and English; and two, because he's genuinely interesting. He sits and questions our beliefs, morals, and everything in between, and if you can back up what you believe, you get to win. Winning though is not so easy when you're going against him. This is why it is so fun, there's a fair amount of struggle and truth to it.

"Evil exists with no limit. At least to my extent of knowledge." Says James, emerging into the classroom with his hands in his pockets and a confident stance.

Mr. Hughes raises a challenging brow, "What makes you say that, young man?"

James stops in the middle of the classroom, right in front of the whiteboard, "I would say a lot has brought me to such a conclusion. One thing is the pragmatic and cynic nature of human beings."

"Pragmatic and cynic, huh? Can you possibly prove that?"

"I wouldn't be able to prove it as of now, of course. I would be more than happy to write you an essay though."

It's crystal clear that Mr. Hughes is indeed impressed by James's entrance. He stopped his lesson just to listen to a stranger propose some biased ideas, then he even gave a nod of approval. James might as well claim this whole school with this charm he carries like a weapon.

"Feel free to write that essay, I will be more than content to read it." He says. "Now, will you reveal to us who you are, gentleman with the grand entrance?"

James chuckles, "I'm James. James Albrecht, I'm fairly new here and I'm assuming this is the correct classroom."

Mr. Hughes instantly puts his book down, "Oh you're the new kid who's supposed to be enrolled here, as of today."

"Yes, indeed I am. Pleased to meet you, good sir."

Can words get any deadlier? For truly, I think not.

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