"i'm no mathematician, but I'm pretty good with numbers"

I furrowed my brows as I analysed my drawing. Delicate strokes formed the darkened eye pupil and subtle eyelashes. It was almost the end of lunch and I had only managed to draw a small eye.

Disappointed in myself, I wanted to rip out and throw away the thin paper but remembered the rule I had set myself when I started drawing. Always keep the drawings no matter how bad they are, so in the future, you can look back at them and see how you progressed and improved.

I bit my bottom lip and flipped the book to a new blank page where my pencil met the paper, only to make random lines since my mind was practically blank.

I was a bit irritated this morning. Someone ran into me in the hallway, but instead of being a nice person, she muttered a 'Soz' and walked off leaving me to pick up my things. There were so many inconsiderate people now. 

"I'm no mathematician, but I'm pretty good with numbers."

My head shot up faster than a rocket, dropping my pencil out of surprise. I came eye to eye with the brown haired boy once again. Today he supported a black t-shirt and I could see the words 'wanted' imprinted on the middle of the front of the shirt since he wasn't crossing his arms. He wore loose-fitting jeans with black vans.

My eyes continued up until they reached his eyes. I stared at them for a few seconds before changing course and focusing on the very interesting piece of gravel near the brick next to the pavement.

"Tell you what, give me yours and watch what I can do with it."

It actually took me a lot longer to process this than before because of the shock and confusion that hadn't worn off yet. What is this boy doing? He's Carson López. Carson. López. He should be spending his lunchtimes at his table in the middle of the cafeteria surrounded by his popular friends.

What is he doing here again? What kind of prank lasts two days? Wasn't one time good enough?

My mouth opened briefly before being shut again. About several seconds later, I managed to squeak out a reply. "W-What?"

He smirked at me. "Your number please, my lady?"

"What--No... Why--But..." I faltered hopelessly, already knowing my face was evolving into another shade of red.

"You number?"

"Excuse me," I repeated once again, swiftly picking up my sketchbook and box of sketching pencils, then dumping it in my nearly shredded bag. I rushed off, not looking back to see his face. I'd bet his eyes would be filled with amusement. Maybe someone's recording this. What if they show it to the whole school?

That wouldn't be good. What if it ruins my record, then I won't be able to make it into a good university or graduate. No, that's not good. Not good at all. I have my fingers and toes crossed tightly, hoping that Carson doesn't return tomorrow.

Sketching at lunch is my only relaxing time during school, every other hour, I'm squished between people in the halls and I actually have to talk to people in class. Most conversations are very brief:

"Hi! I'm Sally! What's your name?"

I would reply with, "I-Iris."

Then the really sad answer would be. "What a cute name! Are you new around here? Would you like me to show you around?"

I usually tell the person, "No, I've been going here for the past three almost four years of my life."

Then the person would shame away, embarrassed. Trust me, it's awkward for me too.

"Well, sweetie, just don't let him distract you from your studies."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah mum, I know. And you should know by now that it would be the last thing I'd do. Get distracted."

That's the first thing my mother would say after I tell her a guy 'flirted' with me. I'm pretty sure he didn't but it's the only way to put it. I didn't mention his name though. 

"Just double-checking." She gave me a knowing look and a reassuring smile as she put my folded shirt into my closet like she did every few often.

"Yeah, yeah." I sighed, remembering the Physics quiz I had tomorrow. I was lying my soft bed, with my arms spread outwards and looking up at the ceiling.

I sat up, slouching and looking at my mother. "Wait, no mum, those shirts go at the bottom," I said, pointing at the section under my jackets and cardigans.

My mother turned around and raised a brow. "Do you want to do this?" She pointed at the small basket of clothes in her left arm.

"Not really," I slouched my back down even further. I'm lucky to have her do my clothes. Since I'm an only child, I'm a little spoiled but I try returning the favour by studying well.

She scowled. "Sit up straight like a lady!"

I huffed and pushed out my chest, arching my back slightly. My mother acts like a posh person but she slouches all the time. I've just never caught her red-handed. I've seen her but whenever I try sneaking in to say 'Sit like a lady!', she hears my footsteps and sits up.

"I'll only repeat it one more time. Don't let him distract you," she said sternly.

I scoffed. "As if I'd ever do that."

"I know, I'm just...making sure," she concluded hesitantly, before nearly folding the last of my clothes and placing them in my closet. "Dinner will be ready in an hour."

I nodded before she closed the door behind her. I fell back down on to my bed, sighing.

Why would my mother think a boy would distract me? He's Carson López. Carson. López. Carson. López. There's no way I'd ever get distracted by him. Never ever. I know he's trouble and he's bad so I'll stay away.

An image of the boy popped into my head one more time but I shook it off. Forget. Forget. Forget. I repeated in my head before jumping from the bed and walking to my study desk where my thick heavy physics textbook laid. 

I groaned again, remembering the stupid quiz. I pulled out the chair and sat down, flipping the book to the appropriate pages, humming a random tune. 

I stared at the page for a very long time. No, I wasn't reading it. My mind was still floating around the dangerous seas called 'Carson'. What did he want with me? He's never spoken or even spared a glance at me. Why now? Again, my theory of Jett being back popped up. 

Whenever the two boys were together, they caused trouble. I mean, I never really paid attention to them, but I've heard they'd cause trouble. Apparently, they almost burned the chemistry lab a few weeks ago and two years ago, people said they were the ones who snuck into school at night to graffiti the lockers. 

But this is what I've heard. I know it's wrong to assume but I can't help thinking the worst or at least listing out all the theories. Jett is theory number 1. Theory number 2 is that someone blackmailed him. 

But why and who would do that. As far as I'm concerned, everyone is either his best friend or extremely scared of him so who would dare blackmail the Carson López. I haven't seen anyone hate him before. He's not a bully, but he rarely talks to people of lower high school status, like me for example but he is still quite popular with the lower people. 

They seemed unreasonable, my theories, however, they give me the tiniest bit of hope that he would soon leave me alone. Pranks don't last very long, I'm sure unless the person blackmailing him wants him to stick with me then I'm doomed. 

a/n: thoughts on Carson? thoughts on her mother?

vote and comment x