Give My Heart To Him

I went to my homeroom for once this year. I hadn’t drawn anything last night, so I have nothing to show Mrs. Fenner, so there is really no reason for me to go to her room. So I took my seat in the classroom before the bell. I took out my notebook, and started doodling. I doodled little hearts with butterfly wings. Then, struck with a sudden burst of inspiration, I drew a cartoon robber trying to break into a safe. I turned it into a comic strip, and the next part showed the robber opening the safe and taking a cartoon heart out of it. The next strip was the robber holding the heart in the air above his head. The next strip confused me. I don’t know why I drew it, it was like my subconscious was drawing the pictures. The strip showed a cocoon. The final strip showed a butterfly. It was metamorphosis. That’s what I understood from the comic, but in truth, I didn’t understand why I had drawn it like that.
Why would I draw something like this? I stared at my drawing, confused. I was thinking about that when the bell rang, starting homeroom.
“Class, we have a new student today,” Mr. Galespy said in his monotonous voice. He looked to the left and I saw Roman standing there. “Introduce yourself, then take the seat next to Ava,” Mr. Galespy said. Then Mr. Galespy went back to his seat and started reading.
“My name is Roman Mathers, and I doubt any of you lame posers and preps will care to find out anything more about me,” he said, smiling a cocky smile. Mr. Galespy didn’t even hear that, he just continued reading.
Roman walked down the row of desks to the one next to me. He sat down and started ignoring the channel one that was now playing on the TV. Instead of watching Jessica Kumari tell us about STDs, he put his elbow on the desk and his chin in his hand and stared at me. I tried to look straight forward, but I could feel his eyes on me.
I tried to keep watching channel one, but I couldn’t help but feel his eyes on me. Normally, I ignore the stares of other people, but his stare made me feel…uncomfortable. After a minute or so, I couldn’t take it.
“What do you want?” I said, turning to meet his eyes.
“I can think of a few things,” he said, smiling suggestively.
“W-what? That’s not what I meant!” I replied, flustered.
“Mhm,” he said. Then he continued to stare at me, his eyes sweeping up and down my body. It made me uncomfortable. I wish I had worn something more concealing than the thin black v-neck shirt I was wearing. And this was one day I wished I had worn flare jeans instead of skinny jeans….
He continued to stare at me. I could tell he was probably undressing me in his mind. “Please look somewhere else than me,” I requested, a bit annoyed. I turned to face him as I spoke.
“Maybe I like looking at you,” he said, looking me in the eye. He smiled that annoyingly cocky grin. Then I felt his eyes move a bit lower than my face.
“Well, I have a boyfriend, who is coincidentally your friend, so you should really stop staring at me like that,” I replied quickly. “So stop staring at me.” I turned back around to face forward.
“Whatever, I don’t even see what Lucian was talking about anyways. He said you were incredibly hot, but you don’t look that good to me,” he said, then focusing on the TV, which was just switching off to the plain black screen.
I looked back at him, my mouth dropping open. My lips moved to form some witty responses, but no words came out, because I kept changing my mind of what response would be appropriate. Finally I just stared at him, just in shock that he would say that. One second, he’s checking me out like a perv, the next second, he’s saying I don’t even look good. Wow. What an asshole.
He’s like that song… You’re hot and you’re cold, you’re yes and you’re no, you’re in and you’re out, you’re up and you’re down, you’re black when it’s white, we fight we break up, we… okay, this song doesn’t fit this situation anymore.
I heard Roman suppress a chuckle. I looked around, trying to figure out what he thought was funny. I didn’t see anything obviously funny, other than the prep that normally sat in front of me had turned into an oompa loompa. She looked just like the little orange guys from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. But there was nothing I could see that would make Roman laugh. Strange.
“Okay, class, today we’re going to do a chart on cell reproduction. You’ll be working with partners to make a claymation of cell reproductions. Rows A, C, and E, look at the person to your right. Rows B, D, and F, look at the person to your left. The person you are looking at is your partner for the next two weeks while we make the claymations. They should be fairly easy to make, come here to the front of the classroom to get your packets.” I was sitting in row A, and I looked to my right. Oh f*ck. My partner was Roman.
I heard Roman laugh again. “Looks like we’re partners,” he said. He smiled that arrogant smile again. “Go get the packets.”
“Why can’t you go get the packets? Aren’t you supposed to, since you’re the guy here,” I replied.
“Oh, fine, if you want me to,” he said. Then he stood up and started walking towards the front of the class. I pushed our desks together so we could work side by side. When he came back with the packets, he randomly punched me in the arm.
“What the f*ck? What was that for?” I said, rubbing my arm where he punched me. As he walked around to his side of the desks, he punched me again in the other arm. “What was that one for?”
“The first one was because you made me get the packets. The second one was because girls aren’t supposed to swear,” he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“That is the most sexist thing I’ve ever heard,” I said.
“Whatever, it’s the truth, and a law in Michigan,” Roman replied.
“It’s a sh*tty law.” Then, when he turned to look at me, I punched him in the gut.
“Wow, for a little girl you sure can pack a punch,” he said, sounding a little in pain. He rubbed his stomach. “Good thing I’ve taken a punch before,” he said.
“That’s for being a sexist perv who hits girls,” I said.
“I can’t change who I am,” he said simply. “Now, we have to make a video of cell porn.”
“Its asexual reproduction, its not porn, and right now we’re just storyboarding,” I corrected.
“Whatever,” he said. “I’m a horrible artist. You have to draw this.”
“Eh fine,” I said. I started sketching some diagrams of cells and the steps of mitosis.
“Wow you’re a good artist,” Roman said, looking at my drawings as I worked. I looked at him.
“Can you please not block the light, I need to be able to see to work,” I said, annoyed.
“Oh, okay,” he said, moving away so he wasn’t casting a shadow on my drawings. “So…what music do you like?” he asked.
“Metal, rock, screamo, etc. Some soft rock, some pop. Not much else,” I answered.
“Do you like Eminem?” he asked.
“Who?” I asked, confused.
“Eminem, the rapper.”
“Oh! Didn’t he do a song with Hayley Williams?” I replied, now understanding.
“A remix, but yes. Do you know any of his other songs?”
“No…I don’t listen to the radio, so I don’t know any pop or rap songs, other than that one with Hayley Williams,” I said. It was true, I didn’t like much “normal” music. It was normally too soft for my tastes.
“Well that’s a shame. I’ll have to bring my iPod tomorrow. You are music deprived if you don’t know Eminem.”
“Am not,” I said. I stopped drawing for a moment and looked at him. “I know a LOT of rock music.”
“But not Eminem. Eminem is amazing. You have to hear Eminem,” he replied, looking back at me with his golden eyes.
“Whatever, maybe later,” I said. “Because the bell is ringing in five, four, three, two, one.” On cue, the bell rang. I was watching the clock, and I knew when the bell rang, so I knew it was going to ring.
“See you later, Ava,” he said. Then we packed up our stuff and headed to our separate classes.
My second hour was AP Calculus, and I was surprised to find Roman talking to the teacher when I walked into the class. I cut across the room to talk to her. “Mrs. Fink, I will give you ten dollars to not give him the seat next to me,” I interrupted them. Then I took a ten dollar bill out of my pocket and handed it to her.
She glared at me. “Miss Stark, I can’t be bribed. For that, you will have the seat next to him. And I’m keeping the money.”
Well…that didn’t work.
Roman looked at me and smiled that arrogant smile. “Nice bribery.”
“Just shut up,” I said. Then I walked past him to my seat. Then I gestured to the formerly empty seat next to me. “That’s where you will be sitting.”
“’Kay, thanks,” he said. Then, as he walked past me, he punched me yet again.
“Dude, seriously! Quit doing that, its f*cking annoying,” I said.
He raised his eyebrows, and in the corner of my eye I saw his fist flying towards me. I moved quickly and caught his fist in my hand. Then I grabbed his arm with my other hand and twisted it. I saw him frown in pain, and I smiled.
“I said, quit doing that,” I replied.
“I’ll do what I want.” Then he twisted his arm away from me and then sat down in his seat just as the tardy bell rang.
“Mhm,” I said. Then I listened to Mrs. Fink’s monotonous tone as she taught us another boring lesson about Calc.
When it was finally time for third hour, I was glad to see that Roman wasn’t in my class. However, an hour I enjoyed passed all too quickly. Before long, it was time for lunch. Finally, a class with Lucian.