28 • Envy

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The first time she spoke to him was a week later

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The first time she spoke to him was a week later. She’d been doodling aimlessly, again, on the uppermost corner of her opened notebook when there was a heavy thud in the seat next to her, alerting Eva of his presence.

There was a strong urge to sneak a glance at him, to take in the messy mop of dark hair and the rich almond eyes, but she resisted. Last time she’d been caught staring was in the corridors of the school during lunch and she’d ended up paying for it by Heather and her little group taking her lunch away.

“The teacher’s not here yet?” a deep voice sounded from next to her, almost making Eva jump right out of her seat in alarm.

She whipped her head to stare at the boy whose bored eyes were on her, awaiting a response.

“W-what?” she stuttered, blinking rapidly as if trying to come to terms with the fact that this boy was actually initiating a conversation with her. This boy with the messy dark hair and pretty almond eyes.

“The teacher,” he repeated, “did he come in and then leave to get something?”

Eva shook her head quickly, trying to be quick with her response. Wanting to satisfy. “No, he never showed.”

The boy snorted. “And the bastard nearly took my head off the other day for being late.”

How was Eva supposed to respond to this? Defend their teacher? Agree with this boy and say something mean too? She didn’t know what he’d like her to say so she shut up and just shrugged instead, hoping he wouldn’t see her wordless response as a sign of disrespect.

“So,” he leant back against his chair, raising the fronts legs off the floor slightly as his eyes watched her now. He was watching her. Paying attention to her. This boy with the messy dark hair and pretty almond eyes— he was watching Eva of all people like she was worth watching. And that made Eva feel funny all over. “What's your name?”

“My n-name?” she tripped over her own words, the shock and surprise of it all twisting her tongue and turning her mind into jelly.

“Yeah,” he replied coolly, “your name. Tell me.”

Eva inhaled. Eva exhaled. "Evelyn— Eva. It's Eva."

“Evelyn,” the boy smiled. “I like that.”

Eva managed to smile despite the wild hurricane in her stomach. "Eva's much better actually. I prefer Eva."

"Evelyn," he insisted. "I prefer that."

She nodded quickly, eager to please. "Of course. If that's what you like..." she shrugged, letting a tiny smile grace her face.

"You won't ask me for mine?" he raised a brow, his mouth lifted into an almost-smirk.

"Oh! Right— right, I'm sorry. It didn't occur— sorry, what is your name?"

"Vincent," he answered, letting his chair drop back to the floor with a loud bang, causing annoyed glances to be thrown his way. "The name's Vincent."

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