Taking Off

Chapter 19

"Can't believe we have to do homework today. I'm bloody dead tired," Tia mumbled to herself as she got her work out. But she promised herself she would do her best to finish some of the work she had. There was still quite a lot to get through and this was her final year of school. She had to make some sacrifices if she wanted to finish with an exceptional result. Elijah was thinking the exact same that day. He couldn't let anything get in the way of receiving a good score at the end of this year. He'd worked too hard to let it all go to waste now.

So, there they sat, across from one another, both working very hard. Elijah was scribbling away, making notes for his essay on their English text, Macbeth, whilst Tia begun her essay on the different approaches to psychology. Every few moments, one would glance up at the person across them but quickly get back to work, not wanting thoughts to cloud their minds and distract them. But at one particular moment, Elijah glanced up at Tia and saw her rub at her page, very frustrated. He couldn't help but feel a little sorry for her. She looked like she'd lost all hope, as she rubbed the fatigue out of her eyes and pushed her hair away from her face.

He hesitated but finally asked, "D-do you need any help?" She looked up abruptly.

"What?" she asked, unsure if he'd even said anything or if she'd imagined it because she was so sleepy.

"I asked if you needed help," he repeated.

"No," she snapped, looked back down and continued scribbling away, her nose centimeters away from her paper.

"Sorry I asked then," he said but he didn't take the tone of her voice too personally. She looked very stressed out, after all. He decided to leave her be.

He was surprised then, when, after they'd both packed up and decided to head off to bed, she called his name.

"Yes?" he asked.

"Uh..." she began. She wasn't even sure what she was trying to say. He raised his eyebrows, confused. "I just wanted to – apologise – for snapping at you before...when you asked if I needed help," she said. She wasn't sure why she was apologising. She hated him. But she really didn't mean to be rude at that moment. She was just very tense. "I didn't mean it. I was just tired and stressed out."

His eyes grew wide with bewilderment. Why was she sorry now? Did she not hate him? What was wrong with this girl? He'd never met anybody like her.

"Uh...yeah. That's okay. I sensed you were under a lot of stress," he replied. She nodded. "Can I ask you a question, though?" he asked, quickly, before she could leave.

She wasn't sure she wanted him to ask her anything. She thought she knew what direction he was going in.

"Depends on the question," she replied.

He figured that was an invitation to go ahead, so he did. "Well, I just want to know if you hate me," he said, warily.

She thought for a bit. She wasn't sure how to reply. Did she hate him? She wasn't sure. She wouldn't ever forgive him for what he did. But, there was something about him, something that entertained her. He was kind of – she couldn't believe she was thinking it – fun to be around, in a sort of twisted way.

Before she spoke, he continued, "I mean, it's just that sometimes you're almost nice to me and then, other times, you make me feel like you hate me more than anybody. It's confusing."

She bit her lip and looked straight at him. "I don't know."

"What do you mean 'you don't know'? Don't know what?"

"I don't know if I hate you or not," she answered.

He sighed, not really satisfied with her answer. "Well, just to let you know, I don't hate you." Without another word, he picked up his bag and went to bed, leaving Tia to dissect his words all on her own.