“You can go to your seat.” Roman didn’t wait for her to repeat herself.
He quickly gripped the strap of his canvas bag and walked down the narrow aisle of the classroom, acutely aware of the sharp stares and hostile murmurs following his every step.
Roman ignored them the best he could.
The uniform desks were arranged in neat, rigid rows, and from a quick glance, almost all of them looked completely filled.
Roman noticed some of the boys squirming and shifting so that he would not sit beside them.
One even moved his bag onto the empty seat beside him.
“Over here.” a clear soft voice called out to him.
He turned sharply to see a boy with long brown hair calling out to him.
He walked over to that direction.
“Come sit beside me.” The boy showed him a seat by the wall.
Roman immediately slumped into it letting out a quiet breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.
“Thanks man.”
The boy turned to look at him.
“I am Clinton.” The boy said.
Roman looked back, he couldn’t help but study the boy’s features.
His chocolate-brown eyes carried a strange pull to them, almost hypnotic when they focused on someone.
His lips naturally curved upward like he was always seconds away from smiling.
His face was slim and smooth, narrowing gently toward his chin.
The perfect way to describe him in fact was handsome.
“Call me Roman.” Roman said a small smile broke out on his lips.
He has a weakness for pretty boys who have cute smiles and beautiful eyes.
It was a private truth he rarely admitted to himself.
Even though Clinton’s face could not compare to the green eyed beauty he met last night.
The thought slipped into Roman’s mind before he could stop it.
Roman quickly pushed it away.
Two other teachers came in after the pale blonde woman.
They didn’t seem to take any special notice of Roman and the rest of the day went in a blur.
Still, Roman could feel occasional glances from students around the room.
Then the bell for the first break rang.
Students stood up noisily. it is a very short break just for the students to go to the bathroom, rest their brain a little and for slow students to catch up with the classworks of teachers especially the ones that are fast.
Clinton turned toward him.
His chocolate eyes bright.
“Have you found your locker yet?”
Roman shook his head.
“No.”
“Come on,” Clinton said while standing up.
“I’ll help you find it.”
He stood up and Roman followed him.
They left the class together amidst the stares of other students.
Immediately they left the confines of the class, Clinton said.
“The woman that accosted you this morning is Ms Alice, our homeroom teacher, she is in charge of our class grading and discipline.”
Roman nearly wanted to collapse against the wall.
As if his day was not going bad enough, he got into trouble with his homeroom teacher on the first day.
“Really, what is she like?” Roman muttered.
Clinton chuckled softly.
“Well Ms Alice appears rude to some and carefree to some it all depends on you.”
“On you? Does that mean she hates me?”
Clinton chuckled.
“Likely not. Ms Alice has roasted some students the way he did you in the beginning and they later turned out to be good friends just keep your head down.”
Roman heaved a sigh of relief even though he did not he wants to be friends with that vampire looking woman.
Soon they reached the administrative building.
The principal’s secretary, a stern woman with a tight bun, handed Roman his locker key with his students number after confirming his information.
Clinton then led him through another hallway lined with metallic lockers.
Clinton helped him to locate his locker.
Roman neatly arranged his extra textbooks and belongings inside, shutting the metal door with a satisfying click.
Roman was grateful for Clinton’s help even though he doesn’t fully trust him yet.
He surprisingly always got people that always helped him out in times like this, first Caleb now Clinton.
Roman remained cautious.
Back home his uncle always warned him that not everyone who smiles at you is your friend.
Clinton glanced at the wall clock.
“We still have a few minutes. Let’s hit the bathroom before heading back.”
The bathroom was empty save for a few students.
Bright white tiles covered the walls while large mirrors stretched above the sinks.
The entire place smelled strongly of soap and expensive air freshener.
A few students stood near the mirrors fixing their hair before leaving.
They immediately entered into their separate stalls.
Clinton finished first, when Roman came out they went to wash their hands.
They stood side-by-side, washing their hands under the cold water and drying them under the hot-air vents.
After drying it.
Roman turned to him.
“Let’s go.” but Clinton did not move; he stood looking at him.
His chocolate eyes seemed a little bit out of focus.
His lips were slightly opened and Roman could catch a brief, intimate glimpse of his pink tongue.
He could not tell whether Clinton was staring at his face or his lips and suddenly he felt heat rushed on his face.
Without warning, Clinton suddenly started moving closer to him, his eyes not leaving him.
“Wha…t..t what.” Roman stammered.
Clinton slowly stepped closer.
Roman’s heartbeat skipped.
Why is he suddenly walking closer to him looking at him like that?
What is he trying to do?
Wait!
Is he going to kiss him?
They barely know each other.
That is not how he imagined his first kiss would go.
He continued moving back to increase the distance between them until his back hit the wall and he had nowhere to escape to again.
Clinton did not stop until his nose was a few inches away from his.
Roman could feel his warm breath on his face and he swallowed hard, his pulse racing in his ears.
Clinton’s intense proximity was making it genuinely difficult for Roman to breathe.
Then Clinton lifted both hands slowly toward Roman’s neck.
Roman nearly stopped breathing.
But instead of kissing him…
Clinton grabbed the loose tie hanging around Roman’s collar.
“Oh.”
Roman felt stupid instantly.
Clinton’s fingers moved skillfully around the fabric.
Slowly.
Carefully.
He loosened the messy knot first before pulling the tie smoothly beneath Roman’s collar.
His fingers brushed lightly against Roman’s throat occasionally, sending uncomfortable heat through Roman’s body.
Then he folded the longer side over the shorter one neatly.
Pulled it through.
Adjusted it.
Tightened it gently.
The entire thing took less than a minute.
But Roman felt like he survived an entire emotional war.
When he finished, Roman was almost out of breath.
“Your tie is done now.” Clinton whispered, his permanent smile widening just a fraction.
“Oh yeah thanks.” Roman turned to look at the mirror and froze the image staring back at him no longer looked like a ragged hoodlum; instead it was that of a perfect elite student with perfectly knotted tie.
Impressive.
He looked at Clinton in appreciation.
“Next time I am going to teach you how to knot a tie properly yourself.”
Colors rushed to his cheeks.
The way he said it was so harmless but Roman doesn’t know why he is getting worked up over someone he just met.
It was just a tie.
Just a tie.
They walked back to the classroom with Clinton engaging him in discussion while Roman listened and nodded.
When they got to their classroom they rushed to their seats.
Then they discovered something.
Clinton’s seat was still empty while Roman’s seat was occupied by a big burly boy who was laughing with his friends who surrounded the desk like a pack of wolves carelessly.
“Excuse me, this is my seat. I need to sit down.” Roman said politely. Get faster updates on g.com.
But the boy roared into a fit of laughter with his friends as if Roman was not standing there.
Roman tapped his shoulder lightly and said again.
“Excuse this is my seat and I want to sit down.”
The boy and his friend paused as if they were poured cold water.
He turned to look at Roman and Clinton, deep anger in his eyes.
Roman, not the one to be easily intimidated, looked back with equal rage.
“Did you just touch me with your stinky hands?” the boy said in a low growl.
“That is because you are sitting on my seat. If you were not sitting in my seat I wouldn’t bother you.”
“And who says this is your seat, your church rat.”
“Bill, please you have your own seat at the back of the class, why are you coveting this one?” Clinton interjected.
“Are you pleading for him, you swine.”
“He is just a new student, don’t get him in more trouble.”
“I am going to sit anywhere I like, nothing you and your hood friend can do about it.”
Roman grabbed his bag “You can have the seat I am going to take the one at the back.” Honestly, he was too tired for another fight.
But as Roman made to leave, two boys blocked his way.
“And where do you think you are going?” one of the boys said crossing his arms.
“The seat at the back is not for you either, in fact we want you out of this class.” the other said a cruel grin on his face.
The big burly boy at the back stood up.
His massive frame towered over them.
“You need to leave this class, hood boy.”
Roman narrowed his eyes.
“We don’t want you here,” Bill continued.
“You’re Luciano’s enemy. Which means you’re our enemy too.”
Roman Chuckled bitterly.
“Are y’all some sort of his lackey or what?”
The word hit the room like a spark on gunpowder.
The room went silent.
Bill’s face darkened instantly.
“Did you just say lackey?” Bill roared, his face turning a dark, furious crimson.
He pulled out his outer jacket aggressively ready for a fight.
Clinton looked visibly worried by now.
“Roman, leave them, we are going to report to the home teacher later you can take my seat.”
He tried to grab his hands but Roman’s pride was already awake.
He shrugged him off.
He faced the big burly boy confidently, his face hardened with resolve.
“Yes you all are acting like Lackeys. What are you going to do about it?”
Bill hit first.
He swung a punch but Roman ducked his head flawlessly to the left dodged it on time.
It hit one of the boys behind him in the forehead.
“Ahhhhh.” the boy cried out in pain holding his head.
This was what Roman was planning to do, he was never planning to fight them physically.
The boy that swung the punch was visibly alarmed.
He just hit one of his friends.
His eyes turned red towards Roman.
“This is your fault you rat!” He charged towards him in anger but Roman didn’t flinch.
He gripped the edges of a heavy wooden student desk nearby and violently shoved it forward into Bill’s path.
The heavy wooden legs scraped loudly against the floor, crashing directly into Bill’s shins and sending the massive boy stumbling awkwardly backward over a row of chairs.
“Get him!” another friend yelled, rushing forward from the side and fiercely grabbing Roman by the collar of his blazer.
Roman held his arms and twisted it sharply.
Another came but Roman kicked him away before he got closer.
Before he knew it he was surrounded, the classroom had descended into absolute, violent chaos.
Then amidst the noise and the chaos a deep commanding voice sounded.
“Who is Roman Milkov?”
All eyes turned to the doorframe.
There stood a tall older students looking displeased by the whole cacophony.
“Who is Roman Milkov?.” He repeated.
“Over here! Here I am.”
He turned to look at the direction of the voice and he saw a boy surrounded by a bunch of angry students looking disheveled.
Some, their shirts were torn, some had minor bruises, only him stood in.
The middle looking untouched.
The boy looked at the sight with surprise wondering whether to change his mind.
“The hockey coach wants you at the Ice Arena right now!” He said after some contemplation.