Void - Finding Islam (EDITING)

Chapter 11

Chapter 11

"Better?"

I nod.

It was today that I had eventually succumbed to Rupert's morning tea upon an immense necessity. No doubt - it was comforting. Something about the scorching liquid pouring into my throat and occupying my chest; something that drowns the metaphorical lump I'd been suffering since last night.

I took another gulp.

It was hell hot but I drunk it faster than I could decide not to. It would serve my tongue right for the next 2 weeks or so.

"Um, Jennifer?"

I hummed into the tea.

"I have to go serve, like, 15 angry people out there. You're not going to do anything crazy, right?"

I looked up into his eyes. He looked sincerely worried. God, do I look that bad? "Like what?"

He seemed to think for a while and his eyes fell to the hot cup held in my hands, but then they snapped up again and he narrowed them. "I'm not giving you ideas."

I smiled. "I'm not going to burn myself with tea, Rupert, don't worry. I'm not suicidal, I'm just sad."

He smiled, relieved and a bit shy. He turned, intending to leave the room, but then stopped and turned to the far corner of the room. Striding the length of the staff room, he reached his backpack and walked towards me. Stretching his hand, he exposed an mp3 player and a pair of earphones.

"Here. Listen to something. It'll drown everything. Even the thoughts." He extended his hands a little bit more, looking at me with an undecipherable expression in his eyes. I took the mp3 player and the earphones from his hands. He turned to leave the room.

"Hey," I said. He turned. "Thanks."

He smiled. Then he left the room.

I switched on the mp3 player and browsed the song list.

Oblivion - Bastille

Weight of Living - Bastille

Flaws - Bastille

Pompeii - Bastille

He obviously is obsessed with the band. I hover my finger above the list for a few seconds and then, deciding, I tap "Weight of Living - Bastille" and I close my eyes.

It'll drown everything. Even the thoughts.

I think of these words and I close my eyes, resting back.

****

"Shouldn't we stick the models to a board or something, to represent them better?"

"We've already done that."

"Well, we didn't add printed illustrations, did we? Illustrations are very important, I'm telling you."

"Oh, I thought of that too. I did it yesterday in the library after you left.

Why did you?

I rack my mind for more excuses as to why we shouldn't hand in our project just yet.

"Jen, stop fussing." Adam says patiently. "We've done everything on that project and it's already taken us so much time."

He looks over at me.

I look away. Because I'm afraid he can read my mind. Because I'm afraid he can guess what I'm thinking about and what I want behind all the fussing. Reluctantly so, I give up trying to find new excuses.