"Why do you always avoid my questions?"
"I'm not, it's just that there's nothing to say. Who would ever want to date someone they can't even talk to? It's not rocket science. My eyes are weird, and people get tired of me eventually. There's your on...
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BY THE TIME DALLAS ROUNDED the corner and noticed that another person approached in the same lane, same time, it was seconds too late to veer left or right to avoid them. The other person had his head stupidly buried into the student handbook, too oblivious to the inevitable until it happened.
Bumping into someone wasn't like the innocent, scotch-free ordeals in the movies. Dallas ran right into the person face-first, her nose crashing right into the person's chest before the rest of their bodies collided, knocking the wind out of her. Her purple binder bounced from her hands as they sprang apart, and that, as well as the kid's student book, clattered to the floor.
...along with a pack full of Great Mogul playing cards.
Clutching her throbbing nose, Dallas ignored the mess scattered between them as her eyebrows furrowed together in a glare at the kid despite that he stood several inches over her, easily towering over her at his height of at least six feet four inches. The kid stepped away and looked to the side, his wavy dark brown hair flopping above his eyes, blocking any chance of reading what he was thinking or feeling, or more importantly if Dallas was going to receive an apology.
None of the above.
The only thing the boy did was look at her for a short while, his lower lip parting in surprise or shock, who knew? Dallas wasn't able to decipher the look, and that was when she also realized the kid had a blindingly obvious pair of sunglasses hoisted up the bridge of his nose, completely blocking off his eyes. Dallas's reflection stared back at her, the miserable girl holding her nose, enduring the weird situation. The situation became weirder by the minute; a rude kid that wore sunglasses and had no manners whatsoever.
Dallas wasn't even sure if she wanted to make sense of it all. Getting out of there as fast as possible sounded like the sensible choice, with or without a flimsy apology.
Thankfully, the boy seemed to share her sentiment to an extent. He crouched, and at human speed, he swiped his handbook off the floor and began scooping his cards into the worn card pack, his hands visibly quaking. Dallas huffed pompously and decided that this boy wasn't worth her time or effort. She suppresses the urge to stroke her nose again as she knelt in front of him and picked up her binder. The latch flipped open from falling on the face, and that caused some of her papers to escape too, adding to the mess and her mounting irritation.
She stuffed stacks of paper haphazardly into her binder until the floor had cleared, only two sheets remaining, which she recognized to be two test papers, one biology, and the other math, both brandished with whopping 49% red ink marks. A frown manipulated her lips as she reached for one, but before she could, she was given a little help.
