I know I know, it took me long enough but here it is, finally for your viewing pleasure, chapter four lemme know what you think about it, don't hesitate to be blunt and be sure to use your words, come on I'm not just writing this story for me.

A Contest

This cannot be happening to me. As I slide into my seat second hour the teacher, Mrs. Torlenmeyer, directs him towards an empty desk. The one next to me. Figures, of all the empty seats he could've taken she gives him the on that was right beside me. Unbelievable, this is just great. It should be soooo much fun.

I pull out my assignment from yesterday and prepare for yet another day in AP Statistics. Mrs. Torlenmeyer begins the morning talking about random numbers and SRS probabilities and how often one should expect successful returns. It's just a bunch of review for the test tomorrow. When she makes the call I pass my assignment forward with everyone else, then I pull out the Notebook. I've been passing it around with Serenity, notes and small poems and such that we pass back and forth through the day. I spend the rest of the hour reading and replying in the Notebook while the remainder of the class reviews with Mrs. Torlenmeyer.

I can feel his eyes on me but I ignore him as time drags on. The bell finally rings and I grab my stuff to go. Just as I get to the door to head over to European History I'm stopped.

"Hey, Delicabeth," Mrs. Torlenmeyer calls back to me. I hesitate a moment but know I have to answer her sooner or later.

"Yes Mrs. Torlenmeyer?" I ask her as I turn around. Darthanielaman is standing in front of her desk, a smug smile very evident on his face.

"Would you mind showing Roshan around? He's new here and needs someone to show him the ropes, so to speak. He has Euro next hour and I noticed that you do as well. So do you mind?" I sigh knowing there's only one answer I'm allowed to give, one way to respond. Any other response would earn me detention or ISS depending on how mad she got at me for refusing this "request" and I really don't want to deal with stuff like that at home right now. Damn it all.

"Sure Mrs. Torlenmeyer. I'd be happy to," I motion for him to follow me out the door and I rush off towards the other end of school, completely ignoring him the entire time. In the quad I pass Serenity flat out running, Astronomy must be up in the tower today. Wait a minute, if she's running then that means. Shit. I immediately take off running and make it to the history building. Inside I run to the stairs, the elevator will take to long, and take the stairs three at a time up four floors. I make it to the fourth floor hallway and run flat out to the other end of the hall and slide into class just as the bell rings. I glance behind and Darth is standing there, nonchalant and everything. I'm a bit amazed he managed to keep up with me.

Mr. Westerheide, he insists we call him Shay, is sitting at his desk looking at me a bit disapprovingly, because I'm sure he knows I ran, but also with a sense of appreciation for not being tardy, I have the weird feeling that he watched me dash across the courtyard. I walk to his desk and Darth follows.

"Mr. Shay, this is Roshan. He's new," I add as an after thought. "I don't know what you want to do with him but," and I give Darth a shove in Mr. Shay's direction, "here he is ready for you." I stop touching Darth, almost hesitantly, releasing him to Shay's custody, and waltz over to my seat. There are, thankfully, no empty desks within three seats of people all around me in this hour, so I'm safe for the time being and yet I don't know why I'm even thinking like that.

I pull out my journal, since I can't get away with drawing in here, and my brand new bright yellow pen. I use my journal to write down things I think of and things I think about, it's also my escape from school on a bad day. However, today I will be writing about the strange man who appeared from nowhere last night, and then somehow ended up enrolled in the same school that I go to. It's just not natural that he was accepted so readily into the school since I have the feeling that he just showed up yesterday.

AP European History, not my favorite class because there are so many DBQ's (document based questions) that we are required to answer, but also not a class I hate. Besides Mr. Shay is one of the teachers that grades them and gives you the score you would have gotten on an AP test but gives completion in the grade book, so naturally everyone has an A in the class, although most of them couldn't pass the test. Today we students are supposed to be finishing up our DBQ's over the Industrial Revolution, and I've already finished mine so I have "nothing" to do. I say "nothing" because I don't have an assignment in any of my classes I need to finish and Mr. Shay says you should always have something to do, if you don't he can find you something. Unless of course it's a movie day, in which case I seem to notice you get more extra credit the faster you fall asleep during his movies. So my "nothing" to do today has turned into a journal opportunity.

I start off with a fresh page and begin with my recount of the night before. I met him on a cold dark night . . . towards the end of the hour I'm finished. I end up finishing it with, when my soul arises I see the tearstained faces of those I love. So this is what it's like to die. Well now I know he was telling the truth before . . . when, for some reason I feel like I'm being watched. I look up and Darth is staring at me.

His eyes, once again that deep purple color, feel as if they are staring into my soul. I can't break the stare, and no matter how much I want to look away I can't, his gaze holds mine and we stare, unblinking, into each others eyes when I begin to feel a change. My eyes burn with a warm fire, and then the bell rings, breaking our gaze as students begin to rush out. I hurriedly grab my stuff and rush out of the room before I'm left behind with him again.

What just happened? And what am I going to tell the girls about him to keep them away. I'm filled with a sense of possessiveness over him while at the same time not wanting to get close. I'm afraid of what might happen.