Converting the Bad Boy ✔

Chapter 16

"How are you?"

I didn't know why I was asking him. Maybe I should've just kept my distance like I had done all these years, but after seeing him yesterday at the tree, and after knowing what he was going through, I found my inner caring side winning over my bitter, reserved side. I had a soft spot for sad cases, even if that case was Damian Brewer.

"Why should you care?"

Good question. Why should I? I just lingered over him as he knelt down to grab his books for the last period of the day after lunch. I was glad they had changed the timetable so that lunch time was later, because that meant only one more hour after lunch until freedom, and I could deal with that.

"Is it a crime to be concerned?" I answered with a question. I had a habit of doing that sometimes when I didn't know how else to respond.

Damian rose to his full height after locking his locker, scrutinizing me with those masha'allah eyes. I knew I should lower my gaze but it was hard to when he was so tall, and I was attempting to make conversation.

He broke into a smirk as he said, "So you're concerned for me now, Mariam?" His Australian accent pronounced my name as 'muh-ree-um' instead of the way my family pronounced it, mar-yum.

I tightened my hold over my thick chemistry textbook, returning to my bitter defensive side I adopted whenever I was around Damian. Let's just say he brought out the worst in me. "No," I scoffed. "I'm just asking because I'm a nice person."

Now it was Damian's turn to scoff. "You? Nice? Since when?"

"Hey, I am a very nice person, but with you -"

"You turn into a bad girl," Damian winked, leaning forward so that he was pushing the thirty centimetre ruler radius of my bubble. "I guess I have that effect on the ladies."

I snorted, turning away. Here I was, offering my concern, and he had managed to turn it into something dirty. "You also have the effect of making me want to walk in the opposite direction to your face," I retorted.

Damian placed a hand on my locker which was right beside us and tilted his head at me. "Then why are you still here?"

Another fabulous question from Mr Brewer. And yet I couldn't answer that without sounding like I had any interest in him - which I didn't. Just the thought of it made me shudder. "I just wanted to know if you are doing okay with what's happening at home and all," I replied earnestly. "I don't know many people who have to deal with what you're dealing with, and I can only imagine how hard it is for you -"

"It's bloody well hard, and you're not making it easier by pitying me," Damian spat. "So I'd appreciate it if you didn't ask me how I am as if I was the one slowly dying!"

His voice had risen a little at the end, and I glanced around cautiously for any eavesdroppers. The corridor was bustling with kids trying to get to class, and I realized I'd be late if I didn't get going soon, yet something kept me firmly placed here, something like an obligation since I was the only one who knew about Damian's mother.

"So that's why you won't tell anyone," I deduced. "Because you don't want to be pitied."

Damian grinded his jaw, flicking his gaze to the floor briefly as he muttered, "Yeah."

"I don't want to intrude on your private matters, but -"

"A little too late for that," Damian said with a mirthless chuckle. There was something about that chuckle that was so sad, so hopeless, so empty.

"What type of cancer is it?" as soon as those words left my mouth, Damian's eyes softened slightly.

"Lung," he replied softly, so softly that in all the noise from the passing students, I would've missed it.