by L. A. Fiore
Advanced biology. I must have been on drugs when I filled out my course schedule last year. I was a junior who was voluntarily taking a senior’s science class. Why? I wanted to be a writer. I didn’t need advanced science for that. Luckily, I could drop the class; I just needed the teacher’s signature. Distracted with how I was going to explain why I wanted to drop a course before the first day overview, I didn’t immediately see Greyson until I was halfway to the teacher’s desk. My feet just stopped. Greyson was in my biology class. I glanced behind me, convinced I’d see my fairy godmother because luck like I was experiencing today was rare for me, what with the boy from the jetty being the new kid and having lunch and biology with him. The old girl was earning her wings today.
I then noticed the seat next to him was empty and immediately the story unfolded in my mind. Our eyes would meet across the room. He’d give me that secret little smile I saw earlier. I’d stroll over to him; maybe I’d flip my hair behind my shoulder.
He’d say, “Please sit here.”
And I’d say, “Really? You don’t mind?
And he’d counter, “I think I’ll die if you don’t.”
I’d giggle and bat my lashes before saying, “We don’t want that to happen.”
It would become our favorite class and at the end of the year, we’d be inseparable. Linked forever, bound together over dissections and anatomy. Ours would be a romance to rival the greatest romances in history, the start of the beginning of the rest of our lives.
“Young lady.”
That voice didn’t belong in my story. Following the voice, it was the teacher. It was then I realized I had been daydreaming; long enough that everyone was seated. The chair next to Greyson now occupied.
“The seat next to Gertrude is open,” Mr. Price suggested.
My eyes drifted to Gertrude. She had her headgear on today. She was sweet, talked to herself a lot, and she always smelled like Doritos; she was nice, but she wasn’t Greyson.
I felt his eyes on me. I didn’t even want to know what he was thinking. Paige had shared often that I looked possessed when I slipped into my imagination. What a great visual. The girl who looked more like a boy, standing in the front of class spaced out while I planned our entire lives in the three minutes before the bell rang. It was so clear to visualize, my social life taking a nosedive, the crashing and burning so vivid I could almost smell the smoke.
I had to walk past Greyson; he had the prettiest pale green eyes. I knew this because he was staring at me, and even feeling ridiculous I stared back. My body felt funny, my legs were weak and I was lightheaded. It couldn’t be said he was smiling at me, not even grinning, but his expression was intense. My guess, he was trying to figure out if I was dangerous or just a harmless crackpot.
I settled next to Gertrude. Even she was looking at me like I was nuts. I pulled my notebook out and a pencil while wishing the floor would open and swallow me whole. Mr. Price went over what to expect for the year and I was grateful when I no longer had the attention of most of the class. I tried to focus on his lecture, not because I was interested, but because I didn’t want to think about my dismal entrance, however listening to him my performance took a back seat to horror. We were dissecting frogs again. We had already dissected frogs in the ninth grade. I understood the importance of knowing about your body, those of other animals, but to dissect perfectly healthy frogs seemed cruel. Looking around the room, no one else seemed to have a problem with putting the little fellows in jars filled with chloroform and waiting for them to pass out before performing live organ donations on them. Mr. Price wanted us to have a refresher before we got into advanced anatomy and the little frogs were the ones to pay the price. I wondered if the Giant from Jack and the Beanstalk had biology class, and if so, what did he dissect? Humans? The visual popped into my head of naked humans in huge ball jars with enormous chloroform-soaked cotton balls.
“Miss Owens! Miss Owens!”
“Sorry.” Mr. Price and I were not getting off on the right foot. He was a little man with a balding head and the biggest comb over I had ever seen. He had no hair on the top of his head, but he brushed his hair from the back forward in an attempt to cover his baldness. His hair in the back had to reach past his shoulders to cover all the way to his forehead. Who did he think he was kidding? He drew more attention to his state of baldness with his comical attempt to cover it. Someone should tell him he looked ridiculous. I wondered if he was married, and if so, was his wife cruel or was she blind…blinded in a lab accident he conducted in their basement.
“Miss Owens, for the fifth time!”
“Sorry.”
“Would you like to share with everyone whatever it is you are finding so amusing?”
Share? How funny would it be if I really did share? I might get some laughs, but then I’d feel guilty for being intentionally cruel.
“Alexis Owens!”
“No, I don’t wish to share.”
“I’m guessing you haven’t heard a thing I’ve said.”
Sheepishly I replied, “No, sir.”
“Pay attention, Alexis. Mr. Ramsey you answer the question.”
I stared at my desk so no one would see the blush that burned my face. I heard the deep chuckle and looked over to find Greyson grinning at me. Was he grinning at me or with me? Was I clown funny? Likely. I pulled my eyes from the hot boy. He might think I was a dope, but he was in my biology class. No surprise, I not only didn’t drop biology, it became my very favorite class.
“Hey, you. Tell me about your first day?” Paige called as soon as I showed up for my shift at the diner.
I walked behind the counter and poured myself a cup of coffee. “The kid from the jetty wasn’t a tourist.” I should be jumping up and down, but sadly reality didn’t quite live up to my imagination.
Paige didn’t pick up on my somber tone, her own going up at least an octave from excitement. “No way. Seriously? That’s awesome. Did you talk to him?”
“No.”
My blunt answer turned her head, then she cocked her hip. She was getting ready to mother. I’d seen her take that stance with the girls a few times. She only said one word and yet there was so much behind that word. “Why?”
“Let’s just say reality was a little different than my imagination.”
“Your imagination is pretty wild, but it couldn’t have been that bad.”
“We’re in the same biology class.”
“That’s great.”
“Not so great. Advanced biology, a senior’s class, and I’m staying in it because of him. That is dedication to the cause.”
“Are we getting to the not so great part? Because so far this all sounds good to me.”
“I had a moment.”
She knew exactly what I meant by a moment. “Oh…how bad?”
“I had our entire lives planned in the three minutes before the bell rang. I was so engrossed in how it would be between us, I lost the chance to be his lab partner. Instead, I’m teamed up with Gertrude.”
“Isn’t she the girl who smells like Doritos?”
“The very one. I think I’m better off keeping my relationships to those in my head. I lack social skills in real life.”
“Imaginary boyfriends don’t hold your hand, or make your stomach jump or keep you warm at night.”
“Yes, but they don’t disappoint either.”
“What’s that mean?”
“I thought our moment that day on the beach was special, but I think I may have filled in the blanks to make it more than it was.”
Her expression softened. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, me too. He has a cool name though. I might have to steal it for a book. Greyson Ratcliffe.”
“That is a cool name.” Paige touched my arm. “It’s only the first day. Something about him stirred you. Something had him looking back. Maybe it wasn’t your imagination.”
She was a ‘glass half full’ kind of gal. I was a ‘usually didn’t even have a glass
’ kind of gal, but I smiled before I headed to the kitchen to punch in. I wasn’t a pessimist and I was happy. I had Paige and family, the Cantenellis, Dee and Mel, but I could admit deep down I was lonely. My birth parents abandoned me and my foster parents didn’t see me. I lived in my head so much because I was happier there. That wasn’t a bad thing for someone who wanted to be a writer. I may never have what Grant and Paige had, but I could create that so others could live vicariously through my stories…so I could live vicariously through them too.
I liked the bus. It was the only place that you could see the menagerie of people who made up the school. All cliques were forced to conform when it came to transportation to and from school.
Dylan and Dominic sat across the aisle from me devouring a box of Pop-Tarts. They loved them. Disgusting.
When we drove past the student parking lot, I didn’t press my face to the window but it was close. Greyson was parking his motorcycle. He had a motorcycle. I adored motorcycles, always had even before my maiden voyage on the back of Grant’s a few years back. It was like Greyson was custom made for me. Too bad he wasn’t in the loop on that fact.
We exited the bus and as hard as I tried not to look in the direction of the parking lot, I did and saw that the chick from yesterday was detaining him. And I say detaining because in my imagination he didn’t want to be there. Where the hell had she come from anyway? I sounded jealous because I was.
“Why are you walking so slowly?” Dylan demanded.
“I’m not.” I so was.
“My grandmother walks faster and she needs a walker. Are you waiting for someone, like maybe the new kid?”
I twisted my head so fast I almost snapped my neck. He was grinning like an idiot. He hadn’t seen my ridiculousness whenever Greyson was around. Unless word traveled, my stupidity turning to legend to forever haunt these hallowed halls. That thought was mortifying.
He leaned closer. “Don’t worry. You aren’t obvious, I just know you. Have you talked to him?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“My brain and my mouth can’t get on the same page.”
“Why do I have the feeling there is more to the story?”
“I may have seen him during the summer and we had a moment, but it was only a moment in my head.”
Dylan dropped his arm around my shoulders. “That imagination of yours is going to keep me in the lifestyle to which I’ve always wanted to be accustomed.”
Dylan liked finding the silver lining and I liked this one, but if anyone was going to be crazy successful it was him and Dominic. I knocked my hip into his. “Sophia is going to do that and I will happily ride on your and Dominic’s coattails.”
He chuckled then released me. “See ya later, Alexis.”
“Later.”
My locker was in a prime spot, line of sight to the doors, so I saw Greyson come through them. He was wearing all black from the hoodie to his boots. Even his hair looked darker, those long strands that I found ridiculously sexy. I planned to talk to him today. I would locate my spine and walk over and say hi. What’s the worst that could happen?
He stopped at a locker not far from mine, the magic of my fairy godmother at work again. I watched him swap out his books as my imagination scripted out the scene—a mental dress rehearsal. I’d saunter over to him, swaying my hips gently; his pale eyes would turn to me, the smile appearing in them first before reaching his lips. He’d pull me close and kiss me, tasting me with his tongue, before taking my books and reaching for my hand. Okay, I may have taken some creative license. He didn’t have to hold my books. I grinned to myself and was so lost in the scene I didn’t realize I wasn’t alone until the smell hit me. I knew it was Debbie before I saw her; she bathed in her perfume. Her posse appeared, their attempt to intimidate me. They were high school students, but I swear they all looked like seasoned hookers.
“If it isn’t little Alexis.”
She’d started with the little last year even though I had three inches on her. Her visit was in response to me laughing yesterday at Greyson’s diss. She couldn’t let that go, had to maintain the order and that order was her on the top of the pile and me under it.
I didn’t respond to her, just stared because I knew it would piss her off. She tried hard to fit into her crowd, but she wasn’t in their crowd. They were the rich kids and she was from the other side of the tracks as it were. Her parents were hard workers, but they were dirt poor. Her mom did hair in the basement of their house and her dad worked at the service station. And even with money being tight, her mom came to the diner every holiday season with fresh baked cookies for the staff. How they afforded to dress Debbie, knowing the clothes she sported cost some coin, I didn’t know. And shame on her for putting that on her parents.
I tried for my best bored voice when I asked, “What do you want, Debbie?”
“Just thought I do my act of kindness for the day by saying hello to…” She eyed me like I was roadkill. “You.”
“Your kindness is in such limited supply you should bestow it on someone who gives a shit.”
It was always a joy to see her face flush with temper.
“They’ve already got the sign up sheets outside the office for back-to-school night. Too bad there’s no one who wants to come for you.”
Pain sliced through me, her words hitting their mark with astounding accuracy. Once we shared our secrets and our pain, now she knew exactly where to stick the knife.
“Poor Alexis, not even your parents wanted you.”
My eyes stung, but I refused to let her see how much her words hurt.
“Well, if it isn’t queen bitch.”
The twins. It was hard to believe they’d ever been friends with the animosity that radiated off the twins. Still, I lowered my eyes and bit my lip so I didn’t make the situation worse by laughing at Dominic’s greeting.
She had the nerve to act offended even though she relished the title. She turned from me, like she was finished with her minion.
“What? Not so easy to bully someone when you don’t outnumber them seven to one,” Dylan snarled.
Her brow rose; she pulled off haughty better than anyone I knew. “Someone?” She looked me right in the eyes. “I don’t see anyone.”
She walked away, her posse following after her.
“It’s wrong to strike a girl, but I fucking want to strike her,” Dylan growled.
I was of the same mindset about striking her, but I chose words when I called after her. “You’re not as popular as you think.”
Her head whipped around; she played regal like she’d been born with a silver spoon in her mouth.
“You’re in their crowd, but you’ll never be part of their crowd. And when they all ride off into the sunset, you’ll be the one left behind. Enjoy it now, Debbie, your glory years, because this is as good as it’s going to get for you.” I had a twinge of guilt sinking to her level. I shook it off. “And a word of warning, we know all your secrets too.”
Her face paled. Direct hit. I dismissed her, my focus shifting back to the twins when my gaze collided with Greyson. He was close, just a few lockers down from me. I assumed he was heading to homeroom, but his expression had the hair on my arms standing on end. He was pissed, but when his eyes shifted to me he smiled slightly before he turned and strolled away. Had he been coming to my rescue?
“The new kid seems like a decent dude.” Dylan’s comment turned my head. Greyson had been coming to my rescue. I felt all tingly inside. “Debbie on the other hand. She’s a bitch, don’t listen to her.”
She was a bitch, but her words hit their mark just as she intended.
Alexis
That night, Debbie’s words still haunted me. Despite being a bitch, she wasn’t wrong about the lack of parental interest when it came to me. I did something I hadn’t done in a long time. I tried to talk to the foster monsters. It wasn’t hard to string words together, even small children could manage the task, but it was like the monste
rs believed you could run out of words so they were saving theirs. For what, I didn’t know. I had asked about my parents many times and I’d always hit their wall of silence. I tried again.
They were in the living room, big surprise there. The amount of time they logged in front of the television had to be a world record. I waited for a commercial, because attempting conversation when their shows were on was pointless. “Do you know anything about my parents?”
They both looked over. Evelyn answered, “No.”
“Nothing? Where they’re from, their names?” Crickets. No reply at all. It was like I was talking to potted plants.
“How did I come to live with you?”
“A social worker.”
Hallelujah, an answer. I tried my luck when I asked, “What social worker? From where?”
“I don’t know. I have her papers somewhere, but I’m not looking for them now.”
She wasn’t going to look for them now? That was hilarious. She wasn’t ever going to look for them.
“Why are you asking about this now?” Evelyn sounded genuinely surprised by my interest.
“I’ve asked this same question since I was a little kid. I want to know where I come from?”
Howard managed to string his next words together and with brutal accuracy. “Why? They didn’t want you.”
My chest got tight and tears burned the back of my eyes hearing out loud the same words I repeated often to myself.
I walked out and went to my room, wishing I had kept my mouth shut. I pulled the picture from my nightstand. I used to look at it all the time, but less so as I grew older because it hurt too much.
It was a picture of my parents and me. Mom was dressed in a sundress the color of watermelons and her brown hair was pulled back into a knot. It looked haphazardly done…an attempt to get it out of her face. Freckles sprinkled her nose and her dark eyes were bright and smiling. She wore a gold locket in the shape of a heart around her neck. Dad was in a white tee and faded jeans. He looked like he’d just pulled his fingers through his black spiky hair. His eyes were blue, dark like a sapphire, and they were looking at Mom with love. His arm was slung over her slender shoulders, his fingers holding my hand as I was pressed close to Mom’s chest. We were all smiling. I loved that the most. I was very young in the picture; so young I didn’t remember them, not how they talked, or walked, what their favorite colors were or quirky habits they may have had. We had been happy, so why did they abandon me?