"i'm spanish remember?"

I used to wish that Period 3 would go faster so I would be able to escape school, teachers, classmates and homework but now I just want to go home and hide in my bed. I was really scared of going to lunch because Carson said he would be there. My sweat glands were already working at the thought of Carson. Stupid nervous breakdown routine.

Unluckily, period 3 had merely just begun.

It was business class and in spite of not wholly enjoying this subject, I needed it for the future so I chose it as an elective. Father had convinced his parents to move a part of their company from France to here so he could still work with them and still be with my mother and I so someday I'll have to take over and I need to be prepared. 

I did tell him that I'd rather not because I' not particularly fond of telling people what to do or even talking to them, but he reassured me that he would still be there to help me and that I wouldn't actually be running the whole company, only the small area here.

Fortunately, I sat in the back where no one could see me which was good. You'd think I would be the one to sit at the front, since I was a typical nerd and nowhere near-delinquent but I would always feel like there were a trillion laser eyes shooting at the back of my head.

"Class, I just wanted to let you know that there will be a partner assessment task coming up."

Everyone groaned and voices roared in complaints about having an assessment.

"Quiet down, please," the teacher hushed in an irritated voice. "This is important, you can choose partners next week so make sure to be there, no skipping school."

No. That's not good. Not good. Not good. Very not good.

We're visiting the family next week so I'm not going to be here. I'll miss out on all the important things we had yet to discuss. Then I'll be behind on the work and I'll get a B and fail. Not good.

The teacher continued rambling on about today's lesson but my ears had lost their ability to be able to hear things. The just turned off, I couldn't stop them. It was as if my body needed the energy to worry harder.

Not good. Not good. Not--

Wait.

Hang on.

We have an odd number of people in this business so if I am away next week, I'll have to work alone! Yes! Thank you, father! Perfect timing again! Yes! Yes! Thank God! I'll be fine.

"We have an odd amount of students in this class—"

Yes. I know. Thank god.

"— but luckily we have a new student joining us. His parents requested that he join the Extension class. He'll be here next week."

What? No. No. No. That's not good. Why is everything bad? Why can't something be good for once?

"But sir. Isn't it unfair to him since he only just came and you're giving him an assessment to do." Someone rudely called out.

Yes. That's a good idea. He should sit this assessment out so I can ask sir to work alone. Yes, that's a perfect idea.

"No. He can catch up with the help of his partner because the assessment is worth a lot of marks. He would have to do it either way." The teacher explained.

No. Not good. Usually, when we have partner work, I'm the one left out. No one knows who I am so they never bother. The teacher always pairs me up with the remaining person. It's mainly the liners or people in a three-group so two of them decide to go together while the last one is left out.

Why must life go against me?

Stupid teacher. Stupid partner. Stupid assessment. I can't believe we have to do it in partners and the bad timing of the new kid. The teacher he's not new and from another class but that doesn't make him any better than everyone else.

Then I overheard a few girls whispering about it, saying that the boy was one of the higher statuses. This heightened my anger, a normal boy was already bothersome and now people are saying that he's popular. He's without a doubt going to try to be the class clown and disrupt my and everyone else's education.

I couldn't even tell what my sketch was anymore, it was a combination of dark straight and circular lines. Just thinking about the partner thing made me push harder onto the pencil to the point where the lead was going to snap.

"Hermosa, I see you're very concentrated." A voice noted and I didn't even need to glance up to see who it was. But as he I could see him sitting down next to me in the corner of my eyes. I knew he didn't want to be friends with me. He didn't even get my name right.

By concentrated, he probably meant annoyed.

That was when I started biting my lips, my pencil almost slipped from my fingers due to the slipperiness and my feet automatically started tapping at the speed of a hummingbird's hum. And the nervous breakdown had begun.

I hoped he wouldn't come. At first, I was contemplating whether he would actually come or not. I didn't think he'd come so I came to my usual spot. But thankfully, he came later than usual, so there were only less than ten minutes left.

"Iris? Aren't you going to say hi?" Carson asked, in a slightly teasing tone. So he did know my name. Why did he say Hermosa before? What does it mean?

I glanced up, looking bluntly into his eyes and shook my head. Improvement. My eye contact lasted a few seconds longer. I could hear his deep chuckle echo through the air. "Why not, Hermosa?"

I ignored him this time, dragging my pencil slower and harder. I can't look up again, it's a once a day situation. I'm confused, do I look like another person he knows? Because he keeps calling me Hermosa.

"Friends are supposed to greet other people," Carson noted, leaning over and peaking at my sketchbook. "What a...nice drawing. Is it abstract?"

I would've laughed if I wasn't where I was now, so I only smiled lightly. Abstract? Thanks for trying to make me feel better. My drawing actually consisted of lines and circles and he somehow interprets that as being abstract? I guess so, but no. Just no.

"Why are you smiling? What did I say wrong?" He questioned and I could tell without even looking that he was smiling too.

I didn't say anything and pretended to be very intrigued and fixed on my artwork, gripping the pencil with great force, I felt like it would break in half. I began hauling the pencil downwards, perhaps a little too hard because the sound of paper ripping filled the silence.

"Bad mood?" Carson asked, but as per usual I gave him no answer, only violently ripping out the page and scrunching it up. "Definitely bad mood," He confirmed, "So what's got you in a bad mood."

"Stupid teacher," I responded, irritated. 

"Who?"

"Mr Miller," I answered, looking at the blank paper and decided that I had lost my urge to draw so I began packing up my pencils and books.

"Why?" he asked, "You're not leaving me, are you? I thought we were friends."

I shook my head. "P-Partner assessment."

"That one in business class?"

I nodded. I can't believe I just spoke to Carson. He's Carson and I talked to him!

"Yeah, that one sucks," Carson agreed and I nodded again.

The bell resounded throughout the school, signalling the end of lunch.

"See you next week, Hermosa," he saluted as he stood up. I'm not going to be here next week.

"Iris," I corrected him.

"I know. I'm Spanish remember?" Carson said, his smirk returning as he left, leaving me sitting alone.

When his back completely disappeared from my view, I took out my phone, searching up google translate. I typed Hermosa into the Spanish column and watched as a word popped up into the English column.

My straight bitten lip emerged into a full grown smile and sweltering heat rushed up my neck and face. My heart began rapidly thumping, a warm fuzzy feeling washed over me and I entirely forgot about the assessment.

He called me Beautiful.

a/n: I love this chapter. HE CALLED HER BEAUTIFUL!!!

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