The Runaway Bride

CHAPTER 5: Trouble

André hooked a leg over the armrest of his chair, his face void of any emotion, and gazed out of the window. Even with all the come hither looks he was getting from several of the females in the room, André was too preoccupied to even spare them so much as a glance.

Which was highly unusual considering most of the people in the room would directly conclude that he’d immediately hit up something with a skirt.

Doesn’t matter if it’s a fire hydrant, he would.

“He will find out. He will. He’s not stupid. And once he does, you will never be too sure that he won’t tell anyone about it.” The words of his brother from the call he received a day before nagged at him all day like a recording tape on repeat. “You have to transfer schools.”

He sighed. “f**k it.”

“What’s wrong with you?” Inumaki who was sitting directly beside him asked, his face scrunched up in confusion. “You looked like you just got dumped. What happened?”

André sighed again, throwing his head back in an exasperated way, and closed his eyes. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Ino was still staring up at his face, determined not to drop the subject. “Seriously, what’s going on? You’re scaring me, dude.”

He shook his head. “It’s just my brother. He wanted me to switch schools again.”

Ino’s eyes grew wide and his mouth fell open. Really, it shouldn’t be a shock to him by now but every single time André’s brother ask him to switch schools — again — he just couldn’t understand it.

Sure, the first time was because he was expelled, and the second and third time was because he caused some kind of havoc that resulted to their Chemistry lab catching fire and the hundred-year-old statue of their school’s founder getting decapitated. But this was the sixth time, and the last time there was no context for him to work on, too.

Ino was so sure that André was doing well in here. So, why?

“Did you do something? Or … is he trying to drag you back to Europe again?”

André shrugged, annoyed. “I don’t know what got into him again. I’m tired of switching schools.”

“Are you sure it was your brother who asked you?” André heard a familiar voice ask from behind him and he whirled around, coming face to face with Noah. He grinned mockingly at him. “Or are you just avoiding me?”

André scoffed, his mind unable to comprehend what the lunatic had just said to him. “You wish.”

“It really isn’t that hard to admit, you know?”

“Oh, please. I’d rather choke on a radioactive bread.”

A black permanent marker flew across the air and hit André at the back of his head, eliciting a much anticipated giggle from the girls around the room.

“Mr. Carmichael!” Professor Waller, their Algebra teacher, shrieked, her pointed glasses nearly slipping off the bridge of her nose as she placed her hands on her hips. “You have not been paying attention all day today. I do not tolerate this kind of behavior. Answer the question on the board this instant or I will send you straight to detention.”

There was no response.

Another giggle from the girls, and Professor Waller grabbed the metal rod she uses to slap the whiteboard with and headed straight towards where André was seated. Inumaki kicked the foot of his chair, urging him to answer, but before he could even shot him a look, he had already received a blow on the top of his head from a seething Professor Waller.

A few of the girls gasped at this as André pressed a hand on the part where he was hit, his expression turning dark. Some of the girls even shot him an apologetic look, their eyes focused intensely at the back of the professor as though hoping she would spontaneously combust.

“What have I told you last time?” the professor grilled sharply, and André raised an eyebrow.

“Which one?” he retorted in an unapologetic drawl, his dark messy hair slightly obscuring his eyes from view.

Noah, who had been silently observing the spectacle from where he was, suddenly stood up, the sound of his chair scraping against the cold, hard floor catching the professor’s attention.

“What you did was physical assault. You can be sued for that, you know?”

Professor Waller turned to him, his small pug-like face stretched into a fake smile. “Have you no manners? I was talking to Mr. Carmichael over here.”

“You can scold him, but you shouldn’t physically hurt him. Doesn’t this country have laws against child abuse?”

“He’s not a child anymore. He should know how to respect—”

“He’s a minor. He hasn’t turned eighteen, yet.”

“And so?” Professor Waller exclaimed, her face turning the same shade as her crimson-colored sweater that she often wears even when it's well over 36 degrees Celsius outside. “Do I look like I care?”

“Well, you should.”

Professor Waller could only muster a scoff as she went back on her place in front of the entire class who was secretly mocking and laughing at her. She cleared her throat, raising her head up high, and went back to teaching like nothing had happened.

Which was total bullshit because now, no one can focus on whatever it was she was teaching and instead were stealing glances at both Noah and André.

“He’s so cool.”

“I seriously thought they hate each other.”

“I wish I had someone like him to protect me.”

Ino gave Noah a smile and tapped André by the shoulder. “Don’t you think you owe him?” Ino asked, his full attention now on the two and was ignoring the professor who was still blushing profusely after getting humiliated.

“Owe him with what?”

“He helped you with Prof. Barney. The least you could do is thank him.”

“Psh,” he scoffed and crossed his arms. “As if.”

Noah rolled his eyes at him, getting fed off with his dumb attitude. For the first time in his life, he regretted helping out someone. Even if he did hate him, it’s only proper to give credit where credit is due.

It wasn’t as if he was asking him to be good to him from now on.

After classes, the two immediately went straight to the school’s storage room where they had been cooped up for the past four days. Tomorrow was finally the first weekend of the term — something that they weren’t too happy about when they remembered that they’d be cleaning up toilets instead of going out.

But when they arrived at the storage room which had now earned its nickname as the Sahara Desert for all the sandstorm it creates, Professor North was already waiting by the door, a familiar face standing beside him.

“I take it you already know each other?” the professor asked once he saw the grim look on André’s face.

“No.”

“Yes,” they both answered in unison and glared at each other.

“Very well,” the professor curtly replied and beckoned them towards the room. “The three of you will be cleaning up all the mess. It’s supposed to be done by now considering that the two of you have been here for four days” —he gave them a sharp look— “but since it’s not, then I guess you’ll have to help in. If you finish this now, you can get started with cleaning the bathrooms. The day is still young.”

“Still young, my foot, it’s already 5:30,” André grumbled, but Professor North only ignored him, walking out of the room.

Noah got started immediately but André wasn’t in the mood to help — and neither was the new guy.

“Are you two just gonna stand there?” Noah snapped when he saw them still standing in the same spot.

“No. I plan to sit,” André deadpanned and sat on top of the wooden cajon drum box that they found while cleaning up the useless pile of junk in the middle of the room.

“How about you?” Noah said and turned to the other guy who only gave him a shrug.

“If André’s not helping, then why should I?”

Noah wanted to say something, maybe even give the both of them a good smack in the head, but he thought otherwise and just opened the window over by the other side of the room.

“Hey,” Noah heard the guy call over to André, and André sighed sharply.

“What?”

“Do you play instruments?” he asked, looking down at the drum box André was sitting on.

“Yeah.”

“Like what?”

“Instruments of torture.”

Noah couldn’t help but chuckle at his joke, to which André just rolled his eyes and stood up, finally deciding to help in. It might take Noah all night to finish this all up. He might as well just do something before his ass gets cobwebs for sitting too long.

“André,” the guy called again, and André sighed once again. “What are you here for?”

“Oh, please. Quit the small talks before I smack you across the face with an Almanac, will you?”

“I was just trying to pass the time—”

“If I were you, I’d shut up, Zacharias—”

“It’s just Zachary,” he cut off, picking up a broom and playing with it. “You’re really bad at names.”

“It’s not my fault your name sounds like a prophet.”

Noah laughed fully this time, catching both André and Zac’s attention.

“Why the hell are you laughing?” Zac asked, his hand still on the broom handle. “Your name’s Noah for Pete’s sake. Where’s your big boat?”

“It’s an ark, dumbass.”

“What would he need an orc for?”

“Jesus Christ.”

“You know, listening to your conversation from where I am, it almost sounded like I’m in the church,” David suddenly said, appearing out of nowhere, and smiled. “Now start cleaning before I hurl you out that window.”

Zac just sneered and motioned at his broom. “You wouldn’t mind if I sweep the floor with your girlfriend’s car, would you, David?”

“Nah,” André added. “No one would date that muppet. Not even a demented witch on crack.”