Three

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"My weight? It is what it is. You could get hit by a bus tomorrow. It's about being content. And sometimes other priorities win." – Melissa McCarthy.

*

AFTER THAT ENCOUNTER with Avery, she always acknowledged me whenever she sighted me. She'd catch my eyes in the hallways and smile. Sometimes, she'd stop by my locker when I'm there to say hi. Initially, I thought she was just being nice and had not yet been told about me but I was wrong. Because a month later, she still gave me those smiles and she'd sometimes sit beside me when she sees me in the classes we had together. I didn't understand why she was being so nice. She was supposed to have put two and two together and realized that I have no friends. There's no way someone wouldn't have told her about me. I didn't really pay attention to her but it was hard not to notice her and her brother. This past month, I'd mostly seen her with her brother. Seeing as she hadn't joined the Bs—despite their attempts to befriend her—I guess my assumption about her was right. But I might also be wrong. She might not have joined them because she wants to form her mean-girl clique herself.

Apart from Avery being weirdly nice to me, everything else was normal. Normal as in the rude comments, snooty remarks, and the picking on me in general.

On a particular Thursday morning, I bumped into Alexander. I honestly have no idea how it happened. Because not bumping into anyone or anything when walking with my eyes glued to the ground was my specialty. The only bumps I remember having were intentionally caused to embarrass me.

But somehow, on this Thursday, it happened. It was obvious that he was in a hurry. I had turned the corner just seconds before he rammed into me. All the books I was holding fell to the floor. I 100% expected him to walk away without as little as sorry but he surprised me.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he muttered apologetically and the next thing I knew, he was bending with me to pick up my books. He handed me the books after, mumbling another apologetic sorry.

"It's okay," I replied as I looked anywhere but at his face. I just couldn't bring myself to look at his gorgeous face and I hated that he was looking at me. I could only look at his retreating figure when he walked away.

The next day, we surprisingly made eye contact in class. He walked in and his eyes swept over the class; when they landed on me, they lingered for a few seconds before looking elsewhere. I didn't think it meant anything so I didn't think much about it.

Everything changed on the day we were assigned partners to do a paired assignment in a class that Alexander happened to share with me. Instead of Mrs. Wilde assigning partners like every other teacher, she decided to spice things up a little. She had all the boys' names written in tiny strips of paper, folded, and placed in a basket. She asked us, girls, to walk forward and pick a strip of paper. Whosoever's name is on our strip of paper would be our partner. My breath hitched at the thought of being partners with any guy in my class, let alone one of my bullies. I didn't try to go before anybody else. I was the last to go forward, so only a piece of paper was left, leaving me no choice. Miraculously and weirdly, we had equal numbers of boys and girls in class.

"And you're not allowed to swap partners. Even if you're paired with your enemy, you'd make it work if you want to pass my class." Mrs. Wilde announced as I took my seat. I unveiled my paper to see who the unlucky person is.

Oh no! Oh no! I mentally panicked as I saw the name.

Alexander Scott.

Though I got to pick last, I still got the guy that probably every girl in this room wanted to be paired with. I glanced at him and he was just sitting there, waiting for a girl to show up as his partner. Some people were already partnering up but most girls had disappointed looks on their faces; unhappy that they didn't get a certain someone. I knew they were all probably wondering who got Alex and I didn't want anyone to know it was me. I didn't even want to imagine the look they'd give me and someone might even bully me into swapping despite what Mrs. Wilde said. I looked at Alex again and our eyes met. I held his gaze for a few seconds before looking away. Just then, the bell rang. I heaved a sigh of relief, quickly gathering my things and booking it out of class.

"Hey." I heard someone say behind me in the hallway but I kept walking because it couldn't possibly be me they were talking to.

"Hey, wait." I heard again, the voice sounding closer and more prominent. The next time I heard the voice, my path was blocked by Alexander.

He smiled widely. "Hey."

I looked behind me before giving him a bewildered look. "You're talking to me?"

"Yes. You're my partner for the paired assignment, right? He asked.

"How... how did you know?" I narrowed my eyes suspiciously.

"No one in the class approached me and I saw you leave. I figured you'd be my partner." He explained with a shrug, his British accent prominent.

My eyes stayed on him for a few seconds before I looked away. "I'm guessing you want to swap with someone?"

"No." He shook his head. "Of course not. I wanted to ask you when and where we should meet to start."

Disbelief was written all over my face. He was okay with being partners with a loser like me?

When I didn't say anything, he pulled out his phone, unlocked it, and stretched it toward me. I raised a brow at him.

"I need your number since we need to get to class now. I'll text you later."

I collected his phone hesitantly and debated giving him the wrong number. But I knew that wouldn't benefit me in any way. I handed him back his phone after typing my number.

"Your name, please?" He sounded so polite that it kind of annoyed me.

"Maisie."

He smiled, his dimples showing. "Nice to meet you, Maisie. I'm Alexander. I'll text you."

After watching him walk away, I went to my next class. In class, my phone vibrated. I checked, expecting the text to be from my mum but it was from an unknown number.

"Hey, it's Alex."

I couldn't help the smile that appeared on my face as I saved his number.

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