Frankly My Dear, All's Fair in Love and War

23. King Stripped

The one person that Cassie wanted the most is to meet Desmond.

Her admittance had been quiet and private, but it still sent waves of nausea towards her stomach. She didn't want to feel like that. She didn't want to want that. What she really wanted was the ability to not think about that, to be ambivalent about it. To be cool about it. But the human mind was a curious thing, and no matter how much Cassie had willed the wanting to dissappear, it wouldn't.

So Cassie did the next best thing: she ignored her urges.

She knew that places that Desmond was going to be. His schedule hadn't been hard to memorize. Also...

"Hey, just want to let you know that I saw Desmond in class C."

Cassie smiled at the nice, kindly girl who whispered her the information, and she smiled back at her. She looked proud at herself, as if she had done some god's work and that she had somehow helped Cassie work out a very pivotal puzzle that would change her whole world. Cassie gave the bitch the finger right after she turned away.

She didn't want to know where Desmond was. She had just run away from Tristan, yes, but that was because his presence reminded her too much of Desmond, and she didn't want that kind of distraction right now.

If she came to him right now, he would know that she was still his little bitch.

And she didn't want to be his little bitch.

Turns out, classes moved slowly when you were anticipating something else other than education. The teachers talked in slow motions. The homework assignments felt like annoyances, and the chair felt like it had developed bristles that itched on Cassie's ass. She couldn't sit still.

By lunch time, she knew it would be so much harder to not go look for Desmond and essentially let him know that the news affected her a lot. She avoided the cafeteria, and instead went to the quiet infirmary for a quick nap.

What greeted her wasn't the school nurse or anything. It was actually Desmond.

He had always managed to look impeccable on any situations. There was never a single hair out of place, and his skin always looked like he had a full 10 hour beauty sleep that only the privileged could afford.

Today was different, though. The bottom of his eyes were dark. There was something rough about his countenance, and he looked equally surprised to find Cassie here.

"Huh. Not rallying people to have lunch outside?" Cassie was the first to find her voice, and she was embarrassingly proud of it.

Desmond shrugged. It wasn't a calculated shrug. It was languid, slow, lopsided.

"Are you sick?" he asked.

Cassie didn't know what to make out of it.

"Because I'm not feeling well and that's why I'm here. Why are you here?"

"If you think I'm following you, don't flatter yourself."

Desmond laughed. It came out as a loud monosyllable, which wasn't what a genuine laugh usually sounded like. "You? Following me? Cassie. In the past maybe I've dared to think that you're a single misconduct away from a restraining order. But now?" The mock smile was still playing on his lips. "Now I wouldn't dare."

Cassie didn't know how to respond. It did feel like he was just complimenting her. Just not in a conventional way people compliment other people.

"We weren't even fighting about the photo anymore," Desmond's words were barely a whisper. "It's about everything. What I do behind her back. What she does behind my back," -a single chill ran through Cassie's spine as the possibility of Desmond knowing about the Hater Club existing. "But mostly you. We fought mostly about you."