New Girl {Poldark}

chapter 3

Demelza POV

Demelza sat down at an empty table and started eating her pasta. She looked up and saw Ross, the boy from her chemistry class, coming through the double doors at the end of the room. A chill went down her spine as their eyes met, and she felt herself go red. He was even more handsome from a distance. Hoping she was faraway enough for him not to notice, she continued eating and didn't look up again.

A second later her attention was drawn to someone sliding into the seat next to her, and a whiff of masculine cologne filled her nostrils. A boy with platinum blonde hair and dull brown eyes leaned his elbow on the table and peered up at her, smiling.

"Sitting all alone?" he asked. "That's no way to start a new school. I'll keep you company."

Demelza didn't know what to do. "Thank you?"

"No need. Just doing my duty."

She didn't know how to respond, so she continued eating.

"George Warleggan," he said, holding out his hand. She shook it nervously and couldn't help noticing the way he withdrew his own hand a second after she touched it, like he wanted to wash it immediately. Was he playing the cheese touch or something? Or did he genuinely think she was dirty?

"Demelza Carne."

"Demelza? Is that your real name?" he said with an air of authority.

"Yes. Why wouldn't it be?"

"No reason. It's just...unusual, you could say."

"It's Cornish. It means something in a weird language, don't know what though."

"Right," he said, eyeing her curiously. "So you're from Cornwall?"

"Yep. Just moved."

"Are you finding it hard to adapt? America is very different from...where was it you said you were from again?"

"Cornwall." She could feel herself getting exasperated. Couldn't he just leave her alone?

"Ah yes, Cornwall. That place."

"And yes, America is very different," she replied. "Uglier, you could say."

He laughed raucously, even though she was being serious. "Come and sit with me and my friends," he said. "We're sitting a few tables down." She looked over to where he was gesturing and saw a group of about eight boys and four girls laughing hysterically and elbowing each other.

"Thanks, but I think -"

"Leave her alone George," a deep and dangerous voice said from behind her. "She doesn't want to talk to you." She looked around and there he was, tall and imposing, his dark hair slightly falling over his eyes. His sharp jaw was clenched and his dark eyebrows were furrowed in a frown.

George looked thoroughly annoyed. "We both know you're not exactly a feminist, Ross, but the opposite sex can actually think for themselves, you know? They don't need you to help them decide."

Ross scoffed. "I'm aware of that, but I'm pretty sure she was about to refuse anyway. Go back to your friends, they're missing their shepherd."

Demelza felt like she should say something to let them know she was still there, but her mind wouldn't form the words. George looked from Ross to her and back again, pursed his lips and stormed off.

Ross sat down next to her and opened a bottle of Lucozade. "Good riddance," he said, taking a swig. "Don't believe what he says. He's a slimy git."

"And why is that exactly?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Some people are just born that way."

She laughed. "You can't be born as a dickhead. It's a choice, and there's usually something that causes that choice to be made."