That I should stop analysing myself, I think.
I pulled myself off the floor and dropped into my seat next to Mark while Dad put the dinner on the table and Tammy sat across from me grinning like a Stepford wife. Actually, now that I’d drawn that comparison, it was sort of freaky; she even had the perfect blonde hair, the pearls…
I shook my head and smiled at her, hoping my weird train of thought hadn’t been displayed loud and proud all over my face.
“So Mark, how was practice?” Dad began as we all started eating and I tried really hard to be a good daughter and be nice to everyone.
Chapter Four
I’d slept like shit and I was willing to bet I looked like shit.
Still, I walked into History on Tuesday morning with my head held high. And, if by high we here mean I stared at my shoes and sat in that lonely seat up the back that the other kids said was haunted, then yeah. Head held high.
I ignored everyone again all through lessons and home group.
Nancy didn’t even bother trying to talk to me and she did a pretty good job at acting like I didn’t even exist. But, a few of our other friends smiled at me nicely and Jason looked a little forlorn every time I accidentally caught his eye. Not quite forlorn enough to take his hands off Nancy’s waist, though…
I found myself in the library again at Recess and sat in the same spot against the same wall I had the day before. Although why I did that, I wasn’t sure; I still wasn’t interested in architecture. Only, this time I managed not to cry or feel like my heart was going to pound out of my chest so that was a plus. I just leant my head back against the wall and didn’t hate the moment of silence…
That was then rudely interrupted by a voice I could have done without.
“Well. This is incredibly sad.”
I opened my mouth, but closed it again post-haste and frowned up at him.
“Are you actually not talking to me?” he laughed, seeming totally unfazed by it.
Like a small, petulant child, I got my phone out and messaged him.
Holly Aberdeen:
I said I wouldn’t speak to you today, so I’m not going to.
He shoved his hand in his pocket, pulled his phone out and unlocked it. As he read the message, his eyebrow quirked and the corner of his mouth went with it as he tried to supress a smile. When he looked back to me, I stuck my tongue out at him and that full smile flared to life.
I supposed I could see why girls fell over him…
“I think this counts,” he said, waving his phone in my direction. “Does this mean I won?”
“I never agreed to your side wager, so no.”
“Ah!” He pointed at me victoriously. “But, that was definite talking. So I have to have won, now.”
I frowned again if only to stop the unfathomable smile that wanted to sneak in. “Still no. Besides, we didn’t set terms.”
“I’ll give you my terms now. Come and hang out with me.”
I felt my eyes widen so far I thought my eyeballs were going to roll lazily out of my head. “Sorry, you what now?”
He shrugged. “Come and hang out with me.”
In what universe would I ever hang out with King Douche?
“And, why pray tell would I do such a thing? I’m not a Bow.”
He scrubbed a hand along his jaw as he leant on the bookshelf to his right. “No, you’re certainly not. And, what a message it would send to the git…”
My frown became more of a scowl. “I don’t need to send him a message.”
Although, I won’t deny that a part of me felt like it, wanted to say yes; I felt like hanging out with Xander just to shove it back in Nancy’s stupid face. It would also go a long way to shoving the proverbial ‘it’ in Jason’s smarmy, gorgeous face.
He didn’t want me? Well, I didn’t want him either!
“You’ve thought about it, though,” Xander said, interrupting my brain tantrum.
“I have not.” And I hadn’t, but I would now. Thanks for nothing, King Douche.
He grinned down at me. “If I was you, I would have thought of nothing else than showing him up.”
I felt my eyes narrow as I looked up at him. Just how did he know about what I did or didn’t feel about Jason? If Xander knew I’d been in love with Jason forever, that surely meant that Jason knew? How could King of the Bows know and Jason not?
“Sounds like a normal Tuesday for you. Don’t you normally think of little else than sex, soccer and showing up Jason?”
He nodded as his eyes roved and he rearranged his bag on his shoulder. “Yeah, I suppose so.”
“Let me guess. If you were me, you’d have hooked up with at least six people by now and shown him exactly what he’s missing out on?”
Xander’s eyes snapped back to me as his smirk widened. “Something like that. But, I’d think one would be commotion enough for Holly Aberdeen.”
I rolled my eyes. “Well, yes. It’s all relative, isn’t it? You probably hook up with about six people every day, so you’d have to be with at least…eighteen to make a statement–”
“Whereas, you’re with none. So one would be plenty.”
There was a note of teasing in his voice that elicited a smile out of me, but I stamped it down quickly. Although, not quickly enough if the mischievous look on his face was anything to go by.
“How about you settle for hanging out with little old me?”
I shook my head. “No way. No way in hell am I ever hanging out with the Bows.”
“Not even to hang out with me?” He pouted.
I couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped. “No, not even for you. Sorry.”
He shrugged. “All right. Different terms. How about you actually do that ‘helping me with French’ thing then?”
I gaped up at him, not sure how serious he was being. He was all Xander; languid and at ease, his face a mask of perfect nonchalance like nothing fazed him, and he knew he was stupidly good looking. As I stared at him, he raised his eyebrow as though he was waiting for me to answer.
“You’re actually asking for me to help you with French?” I asked.
He scrubbed a hand over his jaw again. “Yep.”
“Two questions.”
“Shoot.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Are you failing or something?”
He scoffed. “One of those.”
I crossed my arms. “Not really an answer, King Douche.”
“What’s your second question?”
I sighed, figuring I wouldn’t get any more out of him. “Why me?”
“Three reasons. First, you’re good at French. Second, I told Renoir you already were. Third, you can use it as an excuse to avoid the git whenever you like.”
I scowled. “He’s not a git.”
“Isn’t he, though?” Xander asked, his voice rising as he shrugged.
“No. He’s–”
“Let’s agree to disagree, shall we?”
We stared at each other in silence for a while, just assessing, evaluating.
Never in the seven or more years I’d known Xander Bowen had he been anything other than King Douche. Him and his Bows, we’d hated the lot of them because they were arrogant, conniving, mean, rude, just…douche-holes. I didn’t think I’d ever spoken to him one on one as much in all those years as I had the last two days.
I jumped as the bell for the end of Recess rang above us and Xander seamlessly pushed off the shelf and took two steps towards me. His hands were outstretched to help me up like I was just totally going to take them, like we did it all the time.
Without even thinking – without even hesitating – I did take his hands and let him pull me up.
“Come on, Holly. Would it help if I said please?” he asked, smiling at me.
“I didn’t realise you knew that word existed.”
He huffed a laugh. “Please, Holly. I could really do w
ith the help…?” He searched my eyes like he could find something that would make me say yes.
I thought about it; he had told Madame Renoir I was helping him already. So, bets were – when his grades hadn’t picked up or whatever the problem was – I’d be the one in trouble because who in their right mind would discipline the god that was Xander Bowen? He who could do no wrong in the eyes of the world. If he didn’t improve, it was going to be my fault.
I sighed. “Fine.”
A grin popped up on his face for a brief second then he kicked his head behind him. “Come on, Burnett won’t be pleased if we’re late.”
“What’s this ‘we’ you’re talking about?” I asked as he started walking away.
He only let go of one of my hands so I was forced to follow as he pulled me along behind him by my other. “A killer team.”
I rolled my eyes and tried to pull my hand from his. I just succeeded as we emerged from the stacks and I looked around guiltily as I noticed a couple of people might have seen. Farrah, a girl a bit younger than us I’d never talked to, certainly looked at me a moment longer than she usually would. I wiped my hand on my skirt and crossed my arms.
“There is no ‘we’, Xander.”
“No, of course. We hate each other.”
“Exactly.”
We walked to English and I noticed Xander seemed in no hurry to walk any faster than me despite the fact his legs had to be something like eight times longer than mine. So, we arrived at the same time in a manner than could have meant we were walking together or meant we could have just happened to arrive at the same time. He fell back at the door, letting me go through first as he nodded to Greg over my head and they exchanged a greeting.
I was about to head to the chair I’d occupied the afternoon before, but I felt Xander’s hand on my arm as he subtly pushed me towards his desk.
I looked back at him, but he could just as easily have been trying to move around me… Had his hand not lingered. As he talked to Greg, his eyes dropped to mine then he looked quickly over to his desk. I wanted to give him a talking to, but that would have looked ridiculous. So, I just frowned at him and he gave me a look as though asking me ‘what?’ in a very coquettish way.
Instead, I manoeuvred myself over to the empty desk I’d decided to call mine and dropped down against the wall. Two seconds later, Xander dropped next to me and Greg dropped into the chair next to him.
I looked around the room quickly and noticed that the other kids weren’t sure whether it was something to be interested in or not. You could see the confusion on their faces like they were trying to decide for what possible reason King of the Bows had chosen to sit with JT’s minion in her self-imposed exile. The fact Greg had sat with his king was definitely the least weird thing about the whole scenario.
I managed to ignore any and all looks from Jason and Nancy, so yay me.
As Mr Burnett called for silence and everyone sat down, I tried to forget I was sitting next to King Douche. As I tried to get into poetry, it was easier said than done. Quite aside from the fact that he radiated…something that starkly reminded me that the whole situation was weird, he was super unhelpful.
For example, part way through the lesson, I put my pen down for some reason and Xander flicked it onto the floor with a cheeky grin. I frowned at him and realised it had rolled under Jason’s chair, which made me frown harder.
“You’re lucky that wasn’t my favourite pen!” I hissed.
“Lighten up,” he replied, giving me a playful nudge.
I wanted to nudge him right out the window and off the balcony.
“Here,” Greg whispered harshly, holding his pen out to me.
I looked at in surprise and he nodded at it, indicating I take it. Which I did. Slowly, in case it was going to bite me or something equally stupid. Greg gave me one of the most sincere smiles I think I’d ever seen on anyone and just turned to grab my pen from under Jason’s chair like it was his and went back to making notes.
I felt Xander looking at me and looked right back at him.
“What?” I asked.
The corner of his lip quirked and he turned back to the board as though he didn’t want me to see it. “Nothing.”
He was thankfully less unhelpful through the rest of the lesson and Mr Burnett stopped me as I was leaving which meant Xander and Greg left without me.
When I got to the library, I squirrelled myself away among the mythology books (in case Xander came looking in architecture), pulled on my headphones, got out my Psych textbook, and vowed I’d get to next lesson late so Xander wouldn’t be able to sit next to me.
e
By the time I got to school on Wednesday morning, I’d forgotten that I was trying to get to classes late in case Xander decided to sit with me. So, I was just quietly sitting at my desk in Psychology when Xander fell into the seat to my right still looking half asleep.
“Morning.” He nodded without looking at me, his voice thick like he’d rolled out of bed not five minutes ago.
“Morning,” I replied by instinct, looking him over. “Did your butler die or something?”
He rolled his head towards me like it was an effort and I realised he had stubble on his face. “What?” he asked, obviously confused.
I indicated at him, unable to remember a time he’d ever not been clean shaven. Not that I made a habit of looking at him close enough to tell, so who knew how often it actually happened.
“What’s all this? Where’s the with-it guy who goes to the gym before school?”
He looked down at himself slowly. “This sometimes happens.” He scratched the left side of his jaw with his right hand. “I am human, you know.”
“I wasn’t aware royalty were human.”
“Well, you learn something new every day.” He threw me a cocky smirk that lit his eyes and told me he knew I’d been teasing him; I just hadn’t realised I’d been teasing him. His voice was gravelly and I told my heart to stop sneaking peeks at him.
Not that I had to tell it off for long.
Because, just then Jason walked in. I didn’t know how I knew, but it made me jump as I turned away from Xander and looked at Jason like I had something to be guilty for. Jason and his big blue eyes looked between me and Xander as though he’d walked in on something far more scandalous. And, just the thought of that made me blush, no doubt making me look even guiltier.
Nigel came in behind Jason, jostling him as he laughed about something. Knowing them, it was a continuation of a conversation they’d been having before school and I suspected had something to do with some new rumour. Jason gave Nigel what even I could tell was a half-hearted smile and response as his eyes didn’t leave my face.
I cleared my throat and dropped my gaze to my notebook, leaning on my right elbow and raising my hand between Xander and me like a shield under the pretence of scratching the back of my head.
It was like I knew where Jason moved as he moved and likewise I felt Xander shifting in his seat. Still, Xander’s voice in my ear was a surprise.
“Ignore the git, Holly.”
I looked at him quickly and our noses bumped so I looked back down. “He’s not–”
“Yes. He is.”
I turned to stare at him and the vehement sincerity in his eyes softened, making them lose some of their glassiness.
“You sleep as well as me last night?” he asked gently.
I shifted away from him. Because the implication wasn’t wrong. It wasn’t just the previous night; I’d slept badly the last two nights, to say nothing of the hours I lay awake in nervous excitement on Sunday. My brain ran too fast but I couldn’t catch anything that went through it, and my heart wallowed in its own tears. It wasn’t so bad if I kept it busy, focussed on school work, talked with Mark, even Xander seemed like a decent occasional distraction when he messaged (read: annoyed) me. But, lying in bed trying to sleep wasn’t working for me too well.
“I could use a
drink,” was the closest I’d come to admitting it.
He smirked. “Little early in the day for hard liquor isn’t it? But, I’ll play hooky with you if you want?” His voice was slowly losing that deep, gravelly effect that made my heart sit up and pay more attention than it should. But, it was still deep. Deeper than it really had any business being.
I looked away to hide my smile. “I meant caffeine.”
“Sure you did.”
I shook my head and didn’t need to find a reason to not answer him, because the teacher walked in and got the lesson started. I was surprised to see that Xander actually seemed to know what he was doing. He was the most relaxed and laid back I’d ever seen him; making notes and following along with the lesson far more easily than I was.
“You’re good at Psychology?” I whispered as Miss Phillips explained something at the front of the room.
He slid his eyes to me. “Can I not be good at something?”
“You’re good a sport, I didn’t expect you’d care about anything else.”
“Who says I care about Psychology?” he asked as he flipped the page in the text book.
“What? You’re actually doing what you should just because?”
He huffed a laugh. “I do what I should so I can do what I love.”
I looked at him carefully and realised I knew what he meant; he needed decent grades to play soccer the way he did. Something about that didn’t seem to add up to the Xander I knew. A guy who actually tried at school so he could be your typical bro-jock just didn’t scream King Douche.
“So, you want to get a start on this French thing tomorrow?” I asked slowly.
He nodded as he wrote something down. “Sure. Lunch?”
“Sounds good.”
“And, yeah. I’ll help you out with Psych.”
“I didn’t ask.”
“You didn’t have to.”
I covered my mouth to hide my smile, nibbling on my finger nail. As my eyes slid away, they fell on Jason. I could see he was sneaking looks at me as Nigel was asking his opinion on something and I felt incredibly uncomfortable. Psychology was one of the two classes I had with Jason and without Nancy. There was something more vulnerable about him when he wasn’t with Nancy, like he wanted to say something but didn’t know how. I couldn’t even begin to think about what it might have been, but the tension was thick between us.
Keeping Up Appearances Page 4