Lone [MATURE HS]

Chapter 1.

"Tyranny...it's a myth or a speculation. To some people, it's like uh...like a conspiracy theory."

"Conspiracies will be conspiracies," a voice mocks. It's a male voice, and I can hear it but I ignore it and continue my speech. Seminar classes were meant for arguments, and a class of discussion...there is bound to be some differences. Professor Howard says nothing, thin lips into a firm line, giving his stolid expression a look of neutrality and definitely seemingly unimpressed by anything I was saying. I suck up the self-doubt and continue among the tension that filled the room.

"And I believe a lot of us --"

"There's your mistake," says a female voice. It's like everyone in this class likes pointing out my mistakes. But the mistake I made was unknown to me, so I finally drop my "big headed" attitude and snap my eyes in the direction of a blonde adorned in perfect makeup and glasses. "You said I believe...when you say that, all of the sureness of your statement doesn't look believable."

"I said it for a reason," I correct her, keeping my eyebrows furrowed, eyes glancing at her unfazed, flawless face. "I meant to say I believe. I'm giving a suggested topic, one open for discussion. I'm not trying to persuade."

My defense is well-thought out and calm, relaxed. Professor Howard nods his head slowly, greying eyebrows furrowed as he pushes himself off the wall he was leaning on. I wait for him to say something because he moves to the front of my class, and places his hands on my shoulder.

"I like your topic, Tara," he says loudly, so the class hears. "And I like your defense. She's right...Miss Deborah Lynn," he adds then, briefly glancing at the blonde. "A statement of persuasion does not contain the words I believe. It's proven, that mentally, those words are up for opposition. Opposition means that people will likely want to disagree with something that doesn't sound factual, but sounds...opinionated."

I don't smile nor do I show that I'm pleased by the professor's words. I walk from the front of the class that remains silent, listening to the professor start to acknowledge another student and his thoughts. My seat is then occupied by myself, and I try to avoid Deborah's uncomfortable gaze that shoots unseen daggers at me.

The kid that was going to speak up next is saved by the bell, one the blares throughout the classroom loudly. Professor Howard dismisses us with a brief closing of the class, letting the others who've yet to present their topics know they must be ready by the following day.

"You look pissed," Charlie, my friend since the early days in elementary, finds me by the vending machine. I gaze at him briefly, not even attempting to drop the loomy, angry attitude that conquers my body language. I'm more focused on the Chips A'hoy! bag in the machine.

I look back at the dial beside the glass displaying a number of snacks. "Yeah...I know. It's either my actual mood or just the chronic bitch face I've got going on."

"That joke's old as shit," Charlie chuckles softly, shortly. I dial a quick b5 into the machine and wait for the electronic transaction that will shortly bring me some type of joy to my life. Then I look back to Charlie. His tight, light brown curly ringlets falling around his face in a fluffy, frizzy mess. Cocoa dark skin glowing.

"How do you get that glow without using bronzer, man?" I ask him out of the blue, witnessing the pause he makes and the way his eyebrows raise in thought.

I expect a witty remark. "I'm going to make the assumption that this is flirting."

"Yes. Yes it is. You know me so well," I retort sarcastically, and I find myself smiling a little. Charlie's a fucking dumbass sometimes, but on other days, he's got this aura about him that instantly puts me in a good mood. I bend to grab my bag of cookies and sigh. Finally, something good happened today.