Strange Love

"You're in my seat!" I snarled.

It was a cloudy Monday morning in physics class, and I was not a morning person. A headache had already managed to make itself present and I was late getting to school because my car wouldn't start. Therefore I couldn't pick up any coffee (that I was now craving) and I had to take the bus. A boy around 17 looked up at me and grinned, moving over to a desk beside mine.

"Thanks…" I mumbled, "Are you new or something?" I hadn't seen him before.

"Yeah. The name's Damian," he said, outstretching his hand. My eyes darted from his hand, to his face, then back again, but I made no attempt to shake it.

"Or not," he said, dropping his hand.

"Kayla," I said. He nodded.

I opened my backpack, looking for some Advil.

"So where do you hail from, sir?" I asked, finally finding an Advil bottle and opened it to find a whole lot of nothing inside. I let out a gasp of frustration. Concern touched his face.

"Vancouver actually... Is something wrong?" he asked.

"Yes actually, I am in desperate need for some frickin’ Asprin!" Yes, I was definitely not a morning person. He raised an eyebrow, a moment later, he held out a bottle of Advil in front of me. I pushed it away saying, "It could be ecstasy for all I know."

"It's not, but suit yourself,” he said, rolling his eyes.

"I will,” I replied, having no idea why I was being so rude, I guess it just felt good.

"Hope you have fun with the headache."

"I will."

"Alright then."

"Please shut up."

"You shut up."

"Don't tell me to shut up."

"Then you don't tell me to shut up."

"Fine... now shut up."

"You did it again."

"Cool, guess what?"

"What?"

"I don't care."

"Ohh, how clever of you!"

"You can stop talking anytime now."

"You're the one who started the conversation."

"Lies."

"Do you deny it?"

"Yes."

"Fine."

"Fine."

The conversation instantly ended. I focused on a spot on the chalkboard in front of me, waiting for our teacher to arrive. Mr. Roberts arrived a couple minutes later, bringing the smell of cigarette smoke with him too.

"Alright class, you all have your papers to hand in today I hope. But... I will collect them at the end of the period. Until then, please grab today's assignment. It'll be on my desk in just a sec. Good luck and... Keep quiet." After spreading out the papers on his desk, he sat down at his seat and opened the newspaper, covering his face. The newspaper seemed to from a sort of wall, separating him from us. Damian went up to the front, grabbed two papers and knocked on the desk. The teacher looked up from his reading and peered over the large paper, a frown plastered on his face.

"May I help you?" he asked. "Yes, I'm new here, my name's Damian and---," he began.

"Welcome," the teacher said before going back to his newspaper. Damian slowly walked back to our desk.

"Don't take it personally," I said, "He's really not the social type."

"Apparently..." he said and placed a paper on both our desks.

"Thanks," I mumbled and started the sheet. Fifteen minutes later, I was brought out of my concentration as an unidentified object hit my face. I gasped in surprise, looking down at what had just hit me. It was a crumpled piece of paper. I unfolded it and read the message scrambled in messy handwriting.

"Hi. I'm bored."

This was clearly the work of Damian. I looked over toward him. He saw me and waved, an innocent smile plastered over his face. I glared, writing:

"This is of no relevance to me. Bug someone else."

I threw it back, not checking to see if Mr. Roberts was looking. I knew he wasn't. I missed and it hit the floor beside him. He frowned and bent down to get it.

"Sorry," I mouthed. He ignored it and began to read. I focused my attention back on my work, only to be hit in the head a second time, a little harder. I turned and glared. He pointed at the note on my desk and mimed opening and reading it. I unfolded it, staring at the words.

"Go out with me? Yes/No," it read. I was shocked. I won't deny that. I looked back at him but he wasn’t looking. I quickly circled "Yes" and whipped it back. I didn't miss this time. I watched out of the corner of my eye as he unfolded it, and after a minute grinned. I went back to my work and didn't look back for the rest of the period.

Little did I know that ten years later he would do the same thing as that very same day. The only difference being the question:

“Will you marry me?”