Seduced by Lies

by Stacey Quinn

  And so that day, like every other previous day he'd entered this room, he slumped, seemingly unenthusiastic, into the same plastic chair next to the far back wall, slapped his folder and pen onto the desk, and proceeded to not take any notes whatsoever - a mirror image of the other five sat next to him, in appearance at least.

  Sam acted the part as best he could - sniggering with his fellow students, throwing scrunched up balls of paper when the lecturer wasn’t looking, he even made some half thought through comment about boobs (which seemed to go down well with the lads, if not with the girl sat in front) - all the things a boy his age should be doing on his first day back at College, but his heart just wasn’t in it.

  “Well no, that’s not exactly the right phrasing.” Sam thought to himself. After all, his heart hadn’t truly been in anything for months. But he was distracted that morning, and was finding it hard to concentrate on his performance, a fact he felt sure his friends, as oblivious as they were, would begin to notice if he didn’t take action soon. And so, under the guise of texting a girl he’d met over the summer, Sam subtly slipped his phone from the denim embrace of his pocket, hiding his actions under the desk, and began texting his mother.

  He didn’t expect a reply, he barely expected her to be able to read or comprehend the text, but what else could he do? He hit send and took a deep breath, trying to convince himself that everything was fine and dandy, before he could carry on convincing everyone around him. It was lucky he’d had so much practice, so much time to learn how to shut off the conflicting sides of himself. And so the day carried on as normally as it could.

  By the time lunch time arrived, Sam felt he was getting back into the swing of things - his guilt and worry was a fading memory at the back of his mind, like the last dregs of a hangover, and, to his surprise, he’d actually been able to genuinely laugh once or twice! It was during one of these genuine laughs, as him, Dan and Lee were making their way to the canteen, that Sam caught sight of something that stopped him dead in his tracks. Just in front of the canteen doors, a mere 20 ft in front of Sam and his friends, was a girl stood with her back to them, absolutely still as if frozen to the spot, her black and white checkered backpack hanging loosely off one shoulder, her fitted leather jacket clinging tightly to her waist and her short, bleach blonde hair sticking out at odd, punky angles.

  The second his eyes fell on to her, Sam's steps began to slow, and his breath caught in his chest. He struggled to try and place this sudden, unexpected feeling - his companions, as usual, were oblivious and unaffected - they didn’t even seem to notice the girl, so why was the back of her head having such an effect on him? It was if something in her was calling out to him - a feeling that touched him on deep, previously unexplored levels and planes of his being, but for the life of him he couldn’t place it. Until she turned around that is, quickly spinning on the spot and marching dazedly away from the swinging canteen doors. Sam’s eyes found the girls face, and instantly the world around him shrunk down to just a bubble containing only the two of them. Sights and sounds became muffled, even the roar of noise from behind the canteen doors was drowned out by the thumping of his blood through his veins. On her pale face and in her wide, heavily made up eyes, Sam saw the reflection of all his deeply hidden feelings and woes - this girl was silently screaming that she did not belong, that she felt like an alien amongst all these indecipherable, shouting, screaming adolescents, and Sam instantly knew that he’d found a kindred spirit.

  Not that the girl noticed Sam at all - her glazed eyes were kept firmly on the ground in front of her feet as she glided past the trio of boys, completely unaware of the hooks she’d sunk into Sam, that now begged and tugged at him to follow her down the staircase and back into the depths of the English department. As her blonde head bobbed out of sight at the bottom of the stairwell, Sam's little bubble popped and the sights, smells and sounds of the real world made their way violently back into his consciousness, causing his ears to pop at the intrusion.

  “Sam?...Sam?” Lee was calling to him mockingly. “Earth to Sam!” He began waving his hand vigorously in front of his face, before Sam came fully back to his senses and slapped it away playfully, forcing a boyish chuckle as he did so.

  “See something you like?” Lee taunted gesturing to the stairwell down which that magical girl had vanished.

  “He always did like the weird ones.” Dan interjected.

  “She’s not weird!” Sam insisted, a little too quickly. Lee began laughing once more, his booming tones echoing around the main entrance hall while Dan, the slightly more observant one of the group, gave Sam a peculiar look. Sam knew instantly that he’d slipped up, and struggled to regain his cool, stuttering over his words as he fought for a response.

  “Well...ok...maybe she’s a bit weird but...but...did you see that ass?” He hated to objectify the girl, already knowing that she was worth much more than that, but at least it seemed to placate his friends for now.

  Sam lasted all of ten minutes in the overcrowded, stuffy, cacophonous canteen - just long enough for his mates to forget all about the blonde girl, before making his excuses and exiting as quickly as could, while still seeming cool and nonchalant. He broadened his steps as soon as the canteen door had swung shut behind him, darting around the people in his way, practically flinging himself around the corner and cantering down the steps. He didn’t have a plan, all he was aware of was a feeling of deep need pulling him forward, combined with that same feeling of apprehension from earlier that morning, and a whole heap of nervous excitement. He ploughed onwards, his feet leading him automatically through the passageways and towards the English Department before he realized - he actually had no clue where this girl had gone. This realization stumped him, and stopped him dead in the middle of the corridor as he considered his options. She could be anywhere in this huge College by now, he may never even see her again. Bitter disappointment began to crush down on Sam's internal organs, deflating him and sending him crashing back to hopelessness.

  What if that had been his one chance? What if he’d missed his only opportune moment to actually connect with someone who might just understand him? His shoulders slumped and he half turned back towards the staircase, trying to accept that this was just another sour letdown on top of the millions he’d already had to suffer. It was as if the universe had dangled a carrot in front of his face, just to snatch it away so it could point and laugh at him like the fool he was.

  “Well fuck you, universe.” Sam mumbled darkly, barely noticing the two oompa-loompa girls he practically barreled into as they came out of a nearby classroom. The girls gave him a scornful glance, looking him up and down just once before linking arms with each other and carrying on with their conversation, the last words of which Sam’s ears latched onto hopefully -

  “Did you see that new girl going into the library earlier?”

  “Yeah, she was practically running, like she couldn’t wait to get in there or something, the weirdo.”

  “Yeah what a freak, I mean - who hangs out in the library anyway?”

  “Yeah, and did you see her shoes?”

  The chorus of happiness in Sam’s head drowned out the rest of their meaningless conversation, his rollercoaster of emotions soaring straight back up as he continued his journey down the corridor with renewed vigor, mentally apologizing to the cosmos for swearing at it.

  By the time the library doors came into view, Sam was also practically running. Part of him was hugely confused by this sudden, completely irrational response to what was, after all, only a girl, while a much larger section of his brain drowned out that voice, and demanded that he continue onwards, as if it was imperative to his well being.

  Sam half stumbled, half fell through the swinging double doors and into the dead silence of the library, throwing an apologetic glance towards the startled, disgruntled librarian as he adjusted the speed of his eager feet. He tiptoed past the main desk, ignoring the scowl of the scrawny old woman who stood behind it, an
d began making his way mutely through the stacks, eyes peeled for any sign of bleach blonde hair or a checkered bag. His heart thumped harder and harder in his chest as he proceeded further and further into the depths of the musky library. He breathed in deeply, trying to steady his erratic breathing, and couldn’t help but be reminded of his father's office. The heady smell of thousands of thick, old books, laden with dust and crusty with age, transported Sam back to his childhood - to sneaking into his father’s office when he’d work late at night (like he often had), and indulging in the rare treat of being able to pore over the thick, parchment like pages of some of his father's largest, oldest and most precious volumes, reveling in the vast amounts of knowledge hidden within their papery folds. Sam couldn’t help but think that his Dad would have been utterly in his element in this room. As always, any recollection of his absent father brought unavoidable feelings of anger and painful betrayal along with it, and Sam had to physically shake the thoughts from his mind before he could continue on through the library - now was not the time to be dwelling on the past.

  After a few minutes of silent searching, the back wall of the library came into view, and Sam felt the grim tentacles of defeat begin to worm their way into his psyche once more. He was almost ready to start cursing the universe again, when out of the corner of his eye he spotted the strap of a checkered backpack, emerging discreetly from behind the furthermost bookshelf, which had been labeled ‘R-T’.

  It was at that moment that he realized he had absolutely no clue how to approach this girl - what should he say? How should he act? He couldn’t simply dive straight in with his darkest secrets and true feelings of remoteness - despite his certainty that she would understand him completely, that wouldn’t make such a great first impression. Luckily, Sam was still just out of range of the girls sight, and so ducked behind the opposite side of the bookshelf to buy himself just a little more time.

  He leaned his forehead gently against the dusty tomes, marring their spines with his nervous sweat and breathing as quietly as he could while his heart refused to slow its thunderous beating. Raising his eyes, he could just about see one side of the girls pale face through a gap in the shelf, her wide eyes glazed as she chewed monotonously on her sandwich, looking considerably more comfortable than she had done in the busy, bustling College world upstairs. She was still completely oblivious to Sam's presence, and so he continued to gaze at her through his tiny window of view behind the books, basking in the exquisitely sad beauty that emanated from her individual features. His eager eyes drank in her features, trying to place exactly what it was that drew him so insistently towards her. She wasn’t conventionally attractive by any means - her prominent, high cheekbones and the sharp, straight line of her nose and thin, red lips gave her face a slightly acuminous, angled appearance, and she was a milky-white shade of pale that would never be considered fashionable. But it was the deep anguish and longing that emanated from those heavily-framed, intelligent eyes, and the proud, determined set to her shoulders that truly drew Sam towards this enigma of a woman. In those eyes he saw a reflection of the anguish and longing that he himself had become so familiar with, and in her pride and determination he felt a sense of deep intellect, and a strength of being that he so wished he could posses in himself. Here was a person he wouldn’t have to hide from or lie to - here was a person who maybe, just maybe, could help him out of the dismal rut his life had become. So why did his courage have to fail him now?

  Sooner than he’d hoped, the girl finished her lunch, and Sam knew he had to act now or never. He took a deep breath, silently telling himself to stop being such a coward, and stepped boldly from behind the safety of the bookshelf, cheesy grin automatically in place and his sweaty hands clenching and unclenching nervously behind his back. He was just about ready to begin introducing himself when he noticed that the girls eyes were closed, half her face basking in the glorious sunshine that had managed to pierce through the grime of the library windows, and a small, wistful smile playing around those beautiful red lips, as if recalling some joyous memory from some previous, happier life.

  Sam was once again thrown off course - he’d psyched himself up and had been so sure of himself as he’d stepped around the corner, but was now again unsure of how to approach the situation. He tried clearing his throat, to announce his presence, but all he could muster was a pitiful, barely audible squeak that held no hope of drawing this girl from her reverie. He took a few steps forward instead, his footsteps somehow silent on the antique-style, varnished wooden floor boards, but still the girl failed to stir from her day dreams. He could feel his blood rushing like tidal waves through his veins, the mocking voices of his friends laughing at him as he made one last-ditch attempt at interaction and reached for the empty chair next to the girl. That did the trick alright - as the bare, metal legs of the chair squealed across the floorboards, the girl jerked sharply, and Sam found himself once again confronted with her beautiful, tumultuous, orb-like eyes, except now they were scowling with displeasure - a displeasure that was aimed directly towards him.

  “Sorry.” Sam blurted instinctively, causing both himself and the girl to flinch violently as his outburst echoed around the otherwise reverently soundless room. He suddenly became very aware of his surroundings, and darted quick, nervous looks over both his shoulders, paranoid that his mates may have sneakily followed him down here - it would do no good for them to see him like this. Once he was sure the coast was clear, he repeated his apology, this time in a dramatic whisper complete with his ever-present grin. The girl continued to stare at him, silent and unresponsive, her eyebrows raised and her face a mask of questioning disdain. But as usual, Sam's auto-pilot kicked in and did not falter (well, not much). He watched himself robotically and idiotically introduce himself, while the voice in his head hysterically repeated the words - “Shit! Shit! Shit!” - over and over, growing more and more panicked as it became increasingly clear that this girl was simply not impressed. He felt his trademark crimson blush begin creeping up from under the collar of his t-shirt, and he began fiddling nervously with his cap. It took him a few moments to realize that the girl now had her back to him, and was picking up her bag as if to leave. He mumbled to himself dejectedly, unsure of what he was saying, but it was apparently enough to make the girl stop and turn back around with what was (if Sam wasn’t mistaken) an edge of pity and understanding creeping into the corners of her otherwise cold eyes. Sam leapt at this opportunity, his mind demanding him to “Be cool!” while his face reformed into its jovial mask and his lips formed the words -

  “Welcome!”

  The girl remained stood on the spot, but continued to look frostily at Sam, somewhat baffled and insulted by the insistence of his intrusion. She tilted her head sharply, questioningly.

  "You...you're new here, right?" He finished uncertainly, recalling the conversation between the two oompa-loompas in the corridor.

  “Yes.” She replied shortly. Sam's grin widened to a proud beam as he said -

  "Well, I hope you enjoy it here." Sure that the girl would appreciate the gesture and his act of kindness - he knew he would have in her position. But apparently this girl was far more complicated than he first imagined - something an intelligent lad like himself should of picked up on the supposed, and what he had intended to be kind, comforting words, instead made the girl huff and continue to storm off.

  But Sam wasn’t ready to give up - he couldn’t give up. His brain was clutching at straws while his eyes darted around him, searching for inspiration. They landed on one of his favorite Stephen King novels, on the shelf just next to his right ear, and once again his mouth blurted out the words without his brain being involved in the process -

  “Stephen King!” He shouted to the girls retreating back. She spun around once more, eyes now narrow slits of indignation at his careless disruption of the libraries natural, reverent silence. She practically hissed at him as he slid the ‘The Stand’ off the shelf and held it towards her in his shakin
g hands, praying this would strike some chord with her intelligence and intellect.

  “Stephen King.” He repeated quietly, his head bowed ridiculously, like a chastised child's.

  He mumbled some nonsense about it being a ‘good’ book - something any old fool could have told you, and prayed for the floorboards to swallow him whole. But when the girl replied, her voice and stance had dramatically changed -

  "Yes, I've read it." Her tone now soft and agreeable, the set of her shoulders relaxing in surprise. "It is very good." She finished.

  As simple and unassuming as her response was, Sam’s heart immediately lifted, and he raised his eyes hopefully to meet hers. There was a moment - a brief split second of recognition and compassion - a momentary connection and mutual understanding that rocked Sam to his very core and left him slack-jawed and breath taken. But it was only a moment, and then the girls defenses shot straight back up again, and she dismissed his offering with a contemptuous shrug of her shoulders, before marching proudly out of the room without a backwards glance.

  Sam was electrified. He’d made a twat out of himself, no doubt about it, but he’d managed to save it right at the very last moment. While from an outsiders perspective it may have seemed like a total train wreck, nobody else could possibly understand the feeling they’d shared in that moment. While the girl appeared to leave the library just as cold and aloof as she’d arrived, Sam knew that somehow, his bumbling words had managed to crack through her hard outer shell. This was the beginning of something beautiful, he knew it. He just had to be patient, to keep at it and force her to see the common ground between them, to make her realize just how much they both needed each other.