"Most of the time he's cocky—daring, unpredictable and wild. Did he really apologize to you in class?" Chris asks again with contemplative eyes.
"Maybe?" I give a patronizing smile. "He said he should've told his name last night. So clearly he felt sorry right?"
Chris presses his lips together warning, "Don't invite trouble to your door, Saint."
Right then Damien enters. "Speak of the devil!" Chris's tongue slips.
Does he really need to be in the library right now? "Why not?" I ask Chris throwing a brief glance at Damien who's checking out some books.
"Cause..." He hesitates. "You're not like him Saint. He's...too passionate. Reckless. Doesn't relies on emotions and..."
"And what? What makes you think I'm too good? And I'll turn bad if I befriend trouble?" I don't even know why I asked that but something about this guy makes me wonder...
Damien waves at me. "Hello there... We meet again." He walks over. "A pretty coincidence."
"It's not coincidence if one eavesdrop on someone else's talk and make the incident happen."
He leans over my desk looking at me intently. "What? I'm here to have some peace."
"Right." I offer him a fleeting smile. "What's a better way of obtaining peace than snatching away someone else's?"
He sits across me. Chris tugs at my sleeve as if wanting me to leave but I keep being glued to my seat.
"Is that what you think?" He pulls up his sleeves revealing his firm flawless biceps.
"Does it matter what I think?" I maintain my aloof expression.
"Then why do you keep staring at me? Am I that bedazzling?"
I clench my teeth but keep my cool. "If you think you are, then you are. Perhaps not. That's why you need public opinion to confirm that."
He chuckles. "You see, I'm simply not that arrogant, like most people talk."
I see a flash of truth in his eyes. "Maybe so. Then you should know, I don't listen to most people's talks." I stand up gesturing Chris to follow me out.
Damien calls out to him, "It's been a while, Chris. I didn't know he's your friend."
"We've been best friends for many years now," Chris replies tersely.
I wanted to ask Chris more about Damien but he already interrupted us by coming here. I'm already near the exit when Chris asks him, "What happened to you, Damien? Everyone's talking about you. But no one knows the truth."
Damien's eyes flicker. "Are you one of them too?"
Chris shakes his head. "What's the truth?"
Damien scoffs. "I don't recall being your best friend Chris. You should sway with the breeze as well. Right Saint..?" He stretches the end of my name as if he's asking for my surname.
"Angel." I turn my back at him.
"Saint Angel." He repeats, "The angelic face."
••••
Half of the day passes with no more encounter with Damien. But that doesn't stop me from pondering over what Chris asked him earlier. What truth? If nobody knows then I won't get much of anything from anyone either. But asking Damien doesn't seem right. After all we had a typical start.
Should I ask Donna? She's been my friend since first year. And she's the type who never misses a class. But what if she gets suspicious of me? Why should I ask about him to anyone anyway? Ugh! No. I can't be troubled like that. But those eyes of him keep floating up in my mind.
On my way to her classroom (Class B) I hear more things regarding Damien. "He's been injured I think," someone mumbles in the hallway. "He was," someone else adds. "The guy he got messed up with is still probably in his home, resting. He was in the hospital for a month I heard."
A fight? I quickly enter Class B. There she is. Not reading? Wow. That's different.
Seeing me Donna comes over. "Saint! Good you're here. I was about to go to Class A to call you. Let's eat lunch together now that you're here." Before hearing my reply she pulls my hand taking me to the main ground.
"Ugh it's pretty hot today," she complains.
"Let's sit under that tree," I suggest.
Is all that actually true? Did he really beat someone to the point that they'd end up in the hospital?
"What are you thinking?" She waves a hand in front of my face.
"Nothing."
We start eating in silence. It's weird if I ask her about him out of the blue, isn't it?
"Saint, you look like you want to say something. Is it about Damien Frost?"
I choke on my lunch.
"Goodness you okay?" She pats on my back several times. Did I look that obvious?
"Why would you think that?" I ask drinking some water.
Donna and I aren't too close but she's become a good companion over time. She helped me once, in the first year. Since then we're kind of friends. She often hangs out with me and we talk. But most of the time it's study related or some campus gossip. I never asked anyone about any gossip matter before. Everybody knows as the saying goes—'Saint the cold hearted Angel stays out of gossips'.
"I only guessed that. After all Damien is the talk of our school. He has always been," she says in a matter of fact way.
"But how is he really?" The question slips out and I instantly regret it.
Her small eyes with barely there lashes widen. "You look like you don't buy the gossips about him."
Donna can be nerdy or quiet but when it comes to guesses she does it perfectly. I wave both of my hands in total dismissal. "It's not like that Donna. I asked that out of curiosity."
"For Damien the fierce Frost—the coolest and hottest guy of both class A & B and probably the whole school?" She then caresses my hand innocently. "Don't feel bad. If he's hot then you're the most gentlest and cutest in all M.H."
"No, you're misunderstanding me. I just..."
"Relax Saint. I was just teasing you."
I give a sigh of relief. She puts a palm under her chin. "I don't think that guy's everything that he lets on."
"How so?"
"Even though he's tough on the outside, perhaps he's got someone to whom he'll put his guard down only."
"How do you know this?"
"I don't," she says tapping her index on her left cheek. "I said perhaps."
"But he's got talent Saint," she praises him. "No one plays guitar lik him in our school. He even writes songs. You know Zeb, Mika, Todd right?"
"Yeah. The trio always hanging out with Damien."
"Hm. Surely you heard of their band, right?"
I stare at her inquisitively. "Four of Clubs? No?" She asks excitedly.
Why do I feel like if I say 'no' she'll give a big reaction. "I think I've heard about it somewhere."
"Actually it's not your fault that you aren't well aware. I wasn't either few months ago. Damien formed Four of Clubs 2 years ago when they were still in high school's last year. Not many people know about this cause he's not that popular yet. He released a song a week before his graduation which got quite popular at that time. That's why he's popular in our academy."
"What's it called?"
"Swords Play."
So it was them? I only saw Chris listening to that song a couple of times. Guess he didn't expect Damien to be his classmate either. "Is that the reason why everyone admires and fears him as well? Because he's kind of popular?"
"I don't know about the latter part but yeah, everyone admires him. He's the lead guitarist of Four of Clubs duh. He's so cool..." She claps giddily.
I look up. And I see Damien on the second floor. He's standing there looking up at the sky as well.
"What happened to the band?" I question her keeping my eyes fixed on him.
Her gaze follows mine and she smiles. "The band is currently on hold. Something happened. I think it's related to Damien's family. But as far my guessing goes... he's not someone who'll stop for family issues."
"Good for them," I add.
Damien's eyes suddenly fall on me. Few seconds pass just like that. None of us tries to look away as if we're doing a staring-rudely competition. But Zeb comes to fetch him from behind. That look in his eyes... What was he thinking?
As the bell rings I realise break time's over. "I must go back to class now."
"How many left?" Donna asks.
"Just one."
"Hey Saint?"
"Yeah?"
"Why don't you join their band?" There's a suggestive certainty in her question.
"What for?" I ask cheekily.
"I heard their band will restart soon. But Damien's looking for a lead vocalist. Todd's the rapper. Both Zeb and Todd handles the other instruments. Mika's a pro dancer but he can sing as well. Damien, their leader—the guitarist and song writer," she finishes.
I shrug. "I'll only drag their names down. They're better off without me." I walk away.
Besides we are different...in a lot of ways. Aren't we? But even if that's true... If someone joins them as a lead vocalist, will it still be called Four of Clubs?
••••
When I get home I see mom watching T.V. Seeing me she greets. "You're home. Come here. I made your favourite creamy macaronis."
I put my bag on the floor walking over to the couch. "Hey my not so little boy... How was the day?"
"I should be asking that," I complain. "I told you I'd eat something outside. You don't have to make things for me. Just take care of yourself okay?"
She presses her hand against her chest dramatically. "So I'll stop caring about my only child now? Did you eat anything btw?"
My silence answers on my behalf.
"Thought so. Now finish this and give me compliments," she hands me the bowl.
"When have I not complimented anything that you ever made for me?"
"Aww my baby boy is all grown up." She pulls my cheeks like a baby's.
"Mom..."
"Okay okay. I'll stop for now."
"Can I ask you something?"
"If it's about my health again then no."
She already makes it hard for me. I shouldn't fear...the worst case scenario. All these time I've been consoling myself that she's not all that sick-sick. But now that she tries to avoid this subject I can't help feeling scared.
"Honey, why you look so pale? Does it not taste good?" She quirks her left eye.
"No...it's just... Hey mom, are your headaches frequent?"
She squints. "I told you I'm fine. I feel just fine. Besides I've got my wishes fulfilled. What more can I want?"
"Is that even true..?" I ask making a serious face. "You only said it for my satisfaction."
She caresses my cheek. "No baby. I'm happy. Sometimes I think I shouldn't have burdened you with my wishes," she looks down. "I have ruined it all..."
"No mom. I didn't..."
But she doesn't let me finish. "Maybe you didn't but now as I think about it...I feel bad. I never asked about your wishes instead I..."
That's right. When I was in high school sophomore year, that was the time she got seriously ill for a while—anemia, digestive problems, frequent headaches and anorexia. I was more young and dead worried back then thinking she wouldn't last long. That was the year she asked me to pursue music as a career. To get admitted in M.H Academy. To fulfill her youthful day's dreams. A singer. And I promised her I'd fulfill that wish.
She grasps my hand suddenly. "Baby, are you happy? I did a mistake, didn't I?" She releases my hand regrettably. "No, in fact I did a lot of mistakes. I loved the wrong man."