Twice The Trouble

Chapter 41: The Helper

Sophia

Come Friday afternoon, during my last subject, I felt my phone buzz inside my gray vest-pocket.

I was seated in the front row--by choice, so I can pay attention better--so I couldn't sneak a peek.

Instead, I arranged my features into that of obliviousness, my brown eyes transfixed on my professor's lecture on the whiteboard, and I quietly waited for my phone's vibration to fade.

A few seconds later, though, it started to tremble inside my pocket again. I cried out in shock as I wriggled in my cold white chair. Thank Goodness I always set my phone on silent mode.

All eyes were on me. I mentally cursed as my female math instructor and classmates stared.

Mrs. Dee, holding a lecture stick in one hand, shifted her hazel brown eyes at me, her demeanor intimidating, as usual. I liked that about her, how she doesn't care that I perfected her exam and still treated me like everyone else in her class.

"Is something wrong, Miss Sta. Ana?" inquired my professor, her voice sharp.

I shook my head no. "It's nothing, ma'am."

She hit her stick on the whiteboard full of mind-murdering equations and lifted a brow at me.

"Then I assume you'll be able to answer this difficult problem?"

Taking a deep breath, I glanced at the whiteboard, and I sighed in relief upon learning that the question she wanted me to answer had been included in my advanced reading yesterday.

A humble smile graced my full lips as I turned to Mrs. Dee and replied: "The limit does not exist."

For the first time since she entered the classroom today, my professor broke into a tiny smile.

"Very good, Miss Sta. Ana." She whirled around and wrote my answer on the whiteboard.

Three rows back, I heard my friend Spencer let out a whoop. "Nice one, Sophia!" she exclaimed.

"Miss Santos." Our instructor spun around and held out a whiteboard marker. "Why don't you do the next problem?"

Spencer's face turned white as chalk as she reluctantly stood from her white chair. "Yes, Ma'am."

Half an hour later, the school bell rang, cuing the end of the hour and the drop of 4:00. I rose, placed my pen and notebook inside my green backpack, zipped it closed, and slung the handles over my shoulders.

"Ah!" I cried out when my phone buzzed again. I clutched my chest, exhaling audibly. I should really be less serene and more alert, otherwise---

"Sta. Ana!"

I screamed again, stumbling against my desk with my fingers gripping the edge.

"For crying out loud, calm down, would you?" said the girl who called me as she drew near. Hanna Mendoza.

I raked my fingers through my brown hair, at the same time wiping away some beads of sweat. I'm extremely jumpy, especially when I'm deep in thought, lost in my own fantasies.

Behind my oval glasses, my brown eyes flickered to Hanna, her long raven hair swishing behind her as she approached me with an embarrassed smile on her freckled face.

The class president stopped in front of me,keeping a fair gap between us. She held up a book.

"I saw you on television last week," she began, her tone nervous. "Are you really S. Green?"

My eyes grew wide. I slowly nodded my head. "Yes, I am."

Hanna bowed her head, shielding her face behind a black curtain of hair. "I wasn't able to come to your book signing because I had a dental appointment." She stretched out both her hands, which were clasping a copy of "Scarlet Thread," my first published novel. I gingerly took it.

"Will you sign it?" Hanna raised her chin and nervously smiled at me. "It's for me."

She gave me a pen, which I accepted. I lowered the inky blue book on my desk and flipped it open to the first page, then I scribbled my pseudonym with a smiley face at the end.

"Thanks, Sophia." My classmate turned her back on me and fled outside the classroom.

I was still dumbstruck as I stepped out of the room and into the corridor full of students.

"Ah!" My phone trembled inside my gray-vest pocket for the nth time, giving me a heart attack.

Angrily, I thrust my right hand into my vest-pocket and slid out my white cellphone, then I swiped it open to the inbox page.

Who could possibly be texting me in such an incessant speed---

"About time you checked my messages."

My hand flew to my chest, above my heart, which was hammering vehemently. I reeled around and found myself locking my brown eyes on another set of brown eyes.

Lucas flashed me a teasing smile, inserting his hands into his blue-pants pockets.

I heaved out: "You.. scared.. me."

The smile melted off his face and was replaced by a panicked look. He rushed to my aid. I raised a palm, preventing him from coming any closer. I fixed my breathing pattern and said: "I'm fine."

The black-haired male scrutinized my perspiring face. "Are you sure? I can take you to the--"

"I said I'm fine," I reiterated, composing myself and standing up straighter.

Lucas continued to watch me closely, but I looked away from him and combed a hand through my long brown ponytail.

I glanced at him. "You've been the one spamming my phone for the past hour?"

"Yeah." His mouth formed a grin. "Wasn't it funny?"

I brought two fingers to my forehead while I shook my head. "Unbelievable."

"Haven't you read any of my texts?"

I said to him flatly: "No."

Lucas pouted, and I laughed.

"You  promised to help me court Stacy," he reminded me. "So I was hoping we'd start today."

My laughter slowly extinguished, like a hose spraying on a bonfire.

I gulped down my saliva and forced a cheerful smile onto my face.