The Player

Chapter 66: I blend into the walls(unsuccessfully)

"I want you so badly. It certainly is a new sensation for me. I never pined for anybody before in my life. in every book I read, I seem to find a parallel to you and me."

                        - Agnes Von Kurowsky

I skipped across the cold hallways of Connelly academy. My destination was clear, my pace determined. Yesterday, after the twitter debacle, we spent a long time cleaning the messes. I spent a long time with Ms. Tensil, calling everyone who was spreading the wrong information into the office. And not once did I meet max. Not once.

This morning I didn't get the time to find him and neither did he come to meet me. That felt like a sucker punch. Was max avoiding me?

So I gave up all tries at dignity preservation and asked gale if max was still angry at me. He said, quote 'he was never mad at you'

I took another turn. The woodworks class was screeching in laughter as Mr. Woodstauffer made another joke. I clutched my hall pass for the infirmary tighter and walked on.

Outside, the clouds hung low and heavy making the hallway darker than they were used to. I expected part of the shadows to step away from their nooks and start walking with me. If only to give me some company here.

My mobile lay as heavy as my heart in my skirt pocket, bumping coldly against my thigh with every step.

Violet had texted that max was thrown out of French class for denying to answer a question. She also added that he was picked especially for not paying attention in the class and resolutely staring out the window. However, sweet Ms. Delacroix had given him the lamest punishment ever. She told him to stand outside the class in a specific spot so she could see him through the glass window of the class door.

Gale said he was waiting for the death note to drop and go on a killing spree. Sam said his brain circuitry was shorting. Damon concluded that max was sad. Again.

I turned right and came to an abrupt stop.

Max stood leaning against a wall, back flush and legs in a slant. He kept his head down. In the dark hallway, the window on the door of the class managed to light up a halo of fluorescent white around his head.

He looked like an angel on his way to hell. So hot.

I stopped a good few feet across from him. My hands felt nerveless. He is not mad at you, crystal. So it's not bad. Go to him. And tell him that you really have cancer. And then run. Run like hell.

Also, console him. That was priority no. 1. Max shouldn't be sad.

I walked to him. He kept his head down. I managed to go right up to him and lean my back on the wall. Our arms were inches from each other. Ms. Delacroix waved her hands gracefully while talking. Her melodic French drifted hauntingly in the empty hallway.

"Why did you not answer in the class?" I asked softly. My voice echoed hoarsely in the hallway.

Max started violently. He stared at me for moments. I stared back at him. He was so beautiful. My tongue felt barbarian around him. I love you. I love you. I love you.

He opened his mouth and closed it, "are you...are you real?"

I giggled, "Very much so. Touch." I extended my arm.

Max swapped a glance at the glass window, then back at me. He straightened up, leaned back, and tilted his head towards me, "what are you doing here?"

I pouted and sunk lower on the wall, well out of range from the window. Max shuffled closer to me, till our arms were touching. I looked up at him, "I heard you were thrown out of class for back answering."