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The bookworm and the prince

Novel By: djoulde

In our times of pain we find the most unconventional consolation in the wrong arms.

Short 10 chapter novel of friends, struggles, high school, love, drama.
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Submitted:Oct 22, 2010    Reads: 495    Comments: 17    Likes: 2   

Tall dark and handsome guys never looked her way, and neither did Raoul Patel. Indian stud whose shoulder length, wavy, black hair fell into his hazel eyes; Raoul with the thick dark lashes, and even darker winged eyebrows. She wondered if she threw a quarter at his square jaw if it would bounce back.She loved the way his tan skin glowed, the way his entrancing smile pulled you right in. A guy like Raoul never looked her way, if he did, it was always absent, when they had group projects he would copy off of her, but never remember her name. Still, she couldn't help but to think he was the perfect male specimen, even though he was a complete man-whore.
She was on her way to French class when she saw him; he was with a couple of his friends animatedly talking though the second bell had already rung.He had his arm casually draped over a buxom girl that was glued to him as tight as her figure hugging clothes, a girl she assumed was his latest 'girlfriend' or whatever they were.Head thrown back laughing at something his friend said, she noticed the familiar squeeze he gave to the girl's waist, her little giggle.Quickly ducking her head, she rushed into class the third bell ringing as she entered the room.She turned to peer at the door, thinking perhaps there would be another figure rushing to make it on time, but of course not, he'd come when he pleased.
She enjoyed French class; it was one of her favorite subject, language.She saw beauty in words, accents, the fluency, rolls of the tongues; to her the variety of human dialects had always been a fascination.As the teacher divided them into their usual groups, 20 minutes into the class, who came sauntering in if none other than Raoul himself.She saw the way Mr. Burg's eyes narrowed as he glared at Raoul who simply took his seat and slumped down in his usual manner.His right leg stretched out with his left leg bending, one arm slung over the back chair, another relaxed on the table, head tilted looking dignified and bold, arrogant, and scornful all at once.She half expected Mr. Burg to kick him out, which was the usual routine along with detention after school, but she was surprised when after another stern glance he started talking about feminine and masculine pronouns.
When class was over, she saw people animatedly talking as they walked out, making their way to the next period.She was packing her books also getting ready to leave , peeking at Raoul who languidly stood as Mr. Burg addressed him.
She was passing them by when he said "Can you stay for a while Vindya? I will give you a note for your next class" She turned and stared at him, then nodded walking towards the closest chair to them and taking a seat.

"Raoul" exasperatedly Mr. Burg leaned on his desk chair looking tired and disheveled "besides your sheer disregard for timeliness, not to mention the constant disruption…"
"Disruption? What you talking' bout? I ain't even say nothing the whole time" looking rather put out Raoul sucked his teeth.
"This is French class! You are supposed to say something; you are supposed to be practicing how…"
"What for? It ain't like am'ma go out there and suddenly start talking some 'oui oui oui' shit"

Mr. Burg turned red in the face, his lips firming into a thin cross line "If you fail my class you will not graduate"
"I been doing my work…" Raoul started
"And you haven't been doing them well, your test grades are low, your homework is as unreadable as a kindergartners', your class work are exact matches with others…"
"Well what do you want me to do? I do my work you say I'm copying of off someone, you making jokes about my home…"
"That wasn't a joke, all your homework are illegible, I cannot correct what I can't understand…"
"That's not my fault, you're the teacher…"
"Raoul I didn't call you up to have an argument with you, I want all of you to graduate unless you want to be here for another year?" Mr. Burg crossed his trying to stare him down, though it did little good for Raoul was too busy insolent staring him down.
"Aright fine what do I have to do?"
"Get a tutor, and that is where Vindya comes in"
"Who?" Raoul didn't even turn to look at her, and though she may not have wanted to admit it, that kind of stung.
"Vindya, the one behind you" Mr. Burg practically rolled his eyes; Raoul turned and frowned at her.
Of course he didn't know her; she was just some girl that sat in the middle of the class, drowned in by all. Heavy bangs obscured her thick round frames; frames that made her eyes look quite buggy.She was small and brittle looking, and seemed rather sickly to him.

"She's going to tutor me?" he asked incredulously
"Raoul, you need this class, while Vindya, with or without this class she will graduate. She doesn't need this class, yet she does her work and gets good grades…" she hated when teachers praised her, her face warmed up.
"Then why she here?" Raoul asked smugly
"She needs to be somewhere, or do you want her walking around the hallways like you and your friends seem want to do? Anyways this is not about her, this is about you, Vindya I need you to tutor him" Mr. Burg said, when Vindya was about to say
something, he held his hand up, "You will still be getting credit, think of this as an internship, you've already taken this class and passed it with an A, why repeat everything over? This should be easy for you" He said looking from her to Raoul
"Isn't this an elective? How can an elective make me fail?" Raoul looked at him
"You need 2 years of language, without it you can't pass; do you really want to fail because you couldn't pass French?"
"So when do we begin?' he turned to her


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