literature

Fire ~ Chapter 4

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*Present Day*

He probably thinks I'm so weird, Delilah thought silently to herself during last period Chemistry.  All I did was hand him his headphones back.  He just nodded.  That's all he did.  He just nodded and I nodded back.  Why am I worrying so much?  Why haven't I stopped thinking about that one, small head movement all day?  I should stop, I'm stopping right now, come on Del, stop thinking about this.  Her pencil had scribbled all sorts of confusing equations across her notebook.  She rubbed a finger across the thin barrette holding her hair in place.  She looked across the aisle and saw Drew running fingers through his already non-fixable hair, writing down the same equations as her.  She sighed and watched the clock tick away.  Every second added another thought to her full brain, she couldn't take much more.  She clock struck 3:10, jolting Delilah abruptly out of her thoughts.  She gathered up her bag and walked to the door.  A popular girl, Kelly, shouldered Delilah on the way out and all of her books landed on the ground in a pile at her feet.  Wiping away tears that had yet to fall, Delilah stooped down to the floor and began picking up two pound textbooks and private notebooks of hers.  A voice came from in front of her.  Delilah slowly looked up to see Drew saying something, hovering over her.  "I-I'm sorry?" Delilah stammered.  Drew sighed and knelt down to the ground in front of Delilah.  

"I said, do you want some help picking up your things?"

"Oh."  Delilah looked down at her scattered textbooks and looked at him warily.  "Uhm... sure, yeah, sure, I guess..."  She trailed off as Drew picked up a regular black and white composition notebook with one word on the front: Jenna.

"What's this?" Drew questioned, turning the book over in his hands.

"Oh, nothing just... a notebook that belonged to my sister, that's all."

Drew looked at her from the corner of his eye while flipping over the front page.  "This handwriting is way too neat for your sister to have written it, you know that, right?"

"How in the h*ll would you know anything about my sister?!  You know nothing, she could've been 22 for all you know," Delilah snapped angrily, reaching over and taking the book out of his hands.

"Eh... no, she was six, she died.  Didn't she, like, go crazy and, like, kill your mother, or-"

"Shut up and leave me alone," Delilah muttered, slinging her bag over her shoulder and walking briskly from the room, leaving Drew to stare at her in her wake.
Alrighty then, this is going to be a looong story, don't you think?
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