by A. M. Hudson
“Hi, David,” I said. He just smiled and took my bag for me as we walked into the corridor. “David, I’m so sorry. What was my dad saying to you?”
He laughed to himself. “You know, it’s okay, Ara. If I was your father, and I saw some punk kid look at you the way I’m sure I was, I would’ve said a lot worse.”
We stopped walking, and I groaned, slamming my back against a row of lockers as I tried to rub the ache of mortification from my temples.
“Of course,” David continued after a short breath, “if I’d known he was your dad, I might’ve thought twice about—”
“About hanging out with me.” I dropped my hands to my sides and huffed. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you.” And so, I lose my first friend. I’m in no way offended, though. I knew that going to the same school as my dad was going to have its pitfalls. I’ve accepted that. I expected people to decline from being my friend when they found out.
“No—” He stepped closer to me, shaking his head. “No, Ara, I would have thought twice about staring at you that way—in front of him.” His words softened on the end.
“Oh. Okay. Well, uh, I’m sorry I didn’t mention it to you earlier.”
“Well, a heads-up would’ve been nice,” he said.
“Touché.” I smiled, surprised he remembered me saying that in music class.
“So?” We both said at the same time and then laughed.
“You go.”
“No, ladies first.” He bowed his head.
“Um, about before—” This is going to be difficult. I’ve given away too much about my feelings for David, and I have to make him feel comfortable with me again—I have to let him off the hook. “You—um, I think, well, uh. Hm—” Wow, this guy has single-handedly disarmed my natural articulation. I think what I should say is me no speak good no more.
David sighed and waved his hand up. “Okay, stop there.”
I snapped my mouth shut.
“What I said before about dating?” He paused. His eyes lowered and his lips pressed together as he let a breath out through his nose. “It was a mistake. I’m so used to having to give that speech, but I didn’t mean it for you. I was just illustrating how I don’t—I mean—I’m just not that kinda guy.” David’s fists clenched beside him. “I have to really like a girl before I’ll walk her around the school for the day. So, what I was trying to say is that—” He looked directly into my eyes, and all the students in the hall seemed to disappear, “You’re not just any girl, Ara, I—” he swallowed, “I…like you.”
Uh? What? He likes me? My lungs went tight, like a softball just got lodged in my chest. Surely this is some kind of cruel prank they play on the new kids—well, another cruel prank, aside from the throwing-you-to-the-wolves one in music class.
David laughed to himself then. “I’m sorry. That was very forward of me. You don’t even know me yet, and I—”
“Um, David?” I stopped him. Oh, my God. What do I say? I’m alone here at this school. No one knows me, there’s no best friend on the other end of the line to give me boy advice, and no one to tell me I’m crazy to think a guy like this could really be saying that. I hugged my arms across my waist. “This is all a little bit weird for me.”
“I’m sorry.” David scratched his upper lip with his thumb and cleared his throat. “I get it.”
“No, you don’t get it—” I chased after him as he turned away.
“No. Really.” His smile radiated sincerity. “I really do. You don’t have to explain.”
“But—”
“Come on, we’re late.” He took a step away, then turned back to face me, pointing his thumb toward the stairs. “It’s uh—it’s this way.”
Oh, for God’s sake, what is wrong with me? I wish I could scream it out—tell him exactly what I’m thinking. But I just don’t want to seem creepy or desperate. And then there’s the fear that this might be a nasty joke—that if I confess my feelings for this boy I don’t know, everyone might jump out from behind the lockers and start laughing at me.
“Sorry, did you just say something?” David stopped walking and turned back to face me.
“I uh—no.” I hope not. Was I thinking out loud?
The door beside me burst open and an evil-villain-type-scary woman, who probably kidnaps Dalmatians, popped her angry face out. “You two all right there?”
“Yes, Miss Hawkins, we were just going,” David said slowly.
“Well, make it quick, please, the bell has gone.” She slammed the door, leaving David and I alone again.
A silent discomfort separated us with an invisible line.
“Lunch?” David said, shattering the glass-like tension.
“Lunch?”
“Yeah. Can I…” he shuffled his feet and then looked back up, “can I walk you to lunch after class?”
I smiled, a simple smile. “Sure, why not.”
I’m a coward. I’m a first class, moronically deranged coward. I dropped my face into my hands, resting my elbows against the desk. How could I just stand there with my giant gob open and let nothing out? I should’ve told him. I should’ve said, “Thanks, David. I like you, too.” What is wrong with me?
“Everything all right, Ara?” Miss Swanson asked.
Oh, right, paying attention in class is usually a good idea. “Um, sure, all fine.” I forced a fake smile. Satisfied, the teacher turned back to the board and, one by one, the students followed suit.
Hiding under the illusion of privacy that secluding myself up the back of the room created, I grabbed my notepad and scribbled little circles for a while, then turned them into snakes and other various works of notepad art.
Poor David. He said he likes me and I said nothing. He must be so humiliated. He must think I blew him off, and I guess, in a way, I did. I’m just not ready to risk the horrible feeling of rejection when he wakes up tomorrow and slaps himself as soon as he realises he only liked me today because I’m new.
But what if he was serious? What if he really does like me—like, truly like me. That makes me a nasty cow for pulling the ‘this is all too much for me’ card. Who am I kidding? I looked down at the picture of a rose on my page and brushed the pen-tip over the falling petals. I’m too messed up to have friendships. I’ve known David for less than a day and already I’m making a fool out of myself, and worse—hurting him. Perhaps it’s better if he thinks I don’t like him. Perhaps it’s better if everyone thinks I don’t like them.
When the lunch bell rang, I stayed in my chair. What am I going to tell David when I see him? Gee, sorry I didn’t tell you before, David, but I actually think I fell in love with you at first sight. Or, I know myself well enough to know that there’s no way you’ll escape my mind while I’m falling asleep tonight. I dropped my head into my hands and scowled at the Bunsen burner—mocking me from its homely little perch on the desk. Maybe I can stay in here for lunch—just let David think I’ve gone home.
“Only three hours to go,” said the clock on the wall in an arrogant, sarcastic tone.
“Thanks for the reassurance,” I replied, then looked around the room. I hope no one heard that. Great. They say the first sign of being crazy is talking to inanimate objects. And the second sign is hearing them talk back. One more and I might start getting chased by squirrels...because they like nuts.
“What’s wrong, Ara?” A velvety voice travelled into my ears.
There’s no need to look up, I know who it is. So you found me? Figures. I knew I should’ve hidden under the desk. I fought the urge to spin my face away from him. He’s so kind, even though he thinks I just rejected him, he still comes to be my knight in shining armour.
David sat beside me and placed his bag on the ground. I kept my eyes forward. “Is something on your mind, new girl?”
“I—I didn’t get to finish what I was saying before.” I couldn’t look directly at him.
“I’m listening now.” He clasped his hands together on the table in front of him.
“It
’s just that…no one’s ever said anything like that to me before. I don’t really know what to say.” I looked at him then. It’s true. I just don’t know what to say. All of this is just too much for me, for one day.
He breathed out through his nose quietly, and nodded. “Then, don’t.”
“Don’t?”
“Yeah, don’t say anything—yet, okay? Just give it time, and when you’re ready, I’ll be listening.”
“Okay.” I breathed out. Those girls were right—way out of my league. My stomach broke my train of thought with a loud, angry rumble. David looked down at my belly, and I clasped my hands over the noise. How embarrassing.
“Hungry?” He chuckled warmly.
“Uh, yeah—just a little.”
Chapter Four
Though the warm weather attracted most of the students outside for lunch, David led me to a plastic table in the middle of the large hall and sat beside me.
“This room is huge—nothing like the tiny window-in-the-wall where we ordered food at my old school,” I said, watching students slide trays along the metal railing of a buffet-style cabinet.
“It’d be better if they hired enough staff to accommodate all the students—” David added, “you’re usually lucky if you finish in line before the bell sounds.”
“Today was okay, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah.” He covered his smile with a fist. “Today was quick, but that’s only because half the football team is serving detention in the kitchen.”
“Really? Why?”
“Something about ditching paper-cannons at a kid in History class.” David picked up a corn chip and held it near his mouth. “You planning to eat?”
“Oh, um, yeah.” I straightened my tray and leaned my elbows on the table. “So, what’s the deal here, anyway, like, social hierarchy? I’m guessing they’re at the top.” I pointed to the group of well-built jocks at the corner of the room—the ones that waved to David as we walked in.
“The guys having the fruit war?” He smiled as a piece of banana hit the glass window then slid down into the pile of pulp on the floor. “That’s the other half of the football team, and yeah,” he nodded, looking away from them, “they’re pretty much the top of the food chain. Fourth on the list would be these guys—” he waved at one of the girls on the table in front of us. “They’re the kids from music class. They pretty much hang out together. The lowest ranking would be the boys behind you.” I turned to look at a group of weedy looking kids—not particularly nerdy, but just lacking the same kind of cool most the other kids here have. “They’re the chess geeks,” David added.
Well, the chessboard on the table beside their paper-wrapped sandwiches and chocolate milks makes that self-explanatory, and if you missed that cue, the ‘Chess Club’ jacket might be a dead giveaway. But, if playing chess makes them geeks, then I should probably be sitting with them. “So where do you fit in?” I asked.
David looked to the side and drew a breath. “Well—”
“Hey, guys.” Emily came up out of nowhere and perched herself on the seat across from David.
“Hi Emily,” I said, then shoved a mouthful of cardboard-like lasagne into my gob. It’s no roast turkey, but it’ll fill the empty hole and satisfy the green ogre that dwells within my belly.
“Emily.” David nodded his greeting and started eating his nachos.
“Hey, do you guys mind if Ryan and Alana sit with us?” she asked. “They’ve got new-girl fever.”
“No,” I scoffed, “why would I mind?”
David lifted one shoulder. “Fine with me?”
After Emily signalled them over, she leaned forward and a bright grin lit up her caramel eyes. “So, what’d ya think—a new love blossoming, or what?”
New love? My cheeks burned as if a warm towel had just been wrapped around my head, but as I followed her gaze to the girl and the boy from music class, walking as close to each other as possible, my heart slowed. She means Alana and Ryan.
A sassy smile twinkled in the corners of David’s eyes as they met mine. “I think you might be right, Emily,” he said, and looked up at the pair. “I don’t think either of them has figured it out, yet, though.”
Emily sighed, gazing dreamily at them as they walked up to our table.
“Hey, all.” Ryan cupped his hand against David’s and clicked his fingers as he pulled away, then sat down next to Emily, sliding Alana’s tray closer to his.
“Hi, guys.” I smiled, then shrank back into myself a little.
“Hey, Ara—so cool what you did to Mr. Grant, today.” Ryan pointed gun-fingers at me. “I’m sure it’ll go down in high-school history: The Newbie Bites Back. Part One.” Beneath his docile tones, he made himself sound like the voice-over for a movie trailer.
“I wasn’t biting back,” I said with my mouth a little full, “not really. I was just…politely not taking any crap.”
“So noble.” Ryan nodded, lost in awe. Alana sat quietly beside him, not making any effort to stand out.
“So, Ara?” Emily said. “We just finished French class—are you taking French this semester?”
“Nope. Foreign languages just don’t click up here.” I tapped my head. “My friend tried to teach me some French once…it was bad. I sounded like I was trying to spit insults at someone who made me hungry.”
Ryan and David chuckled to themselves.
“That’s a pity—” Emily propped her cheek against her hand. “I was kinda hoping we’d have someone to take the spotlight off us for a while.”
“Spotlight?”
“Yeah. Our teacher, Mz Sears—” Ryan pointed his chip at me, “Total cow.”
“You mean grenouille?” Emily said.
“Uh, Em—” David frowned, “You know that doesn’t mean cow, right?”
Her cheeks flushed pink. “Uh—”
“Well, what’s being a cow got to do with a spotlight?” I asked. Unless she’s a Broadway cow.
“Oh, nothing.” Emily sighed. “I just thought she might play nice in front of a new kid for a while.”
“So, she’s not nice?”
“Sometimes, but she’s just so finicky. Everything has to be done a certain way. If you don’t follow her rules to the T she goes all PMS on you.” Emily added, then looked at Ryan to continue.
“Yeah. She’s so stuck up, Ara, like you wouldn’t believe. She came from some private school in the city, and she just doesn’t understand our ways.” He waved his hands about in the air, making ‘scary fingers’. Alana shook her head and smiled into her salad.
“Well, I come from a private school? I’m not stuck up, am I?” I asked.
“You come from a private school? No way.” Ryan leaned back in his seat and held his index fingers over each other—making a cross.
“Yes way.” I sipped my choc-milk to wash down my last bite of lunch. “It’s nothing like this place. A different world.”
“So where did you go to school?” Alana finally spoke up.
“Really far away.” I smirked.
“How far?” Ryan asked.
“Very far.” I wish they’d just drop it.
“Yeah, you have a bit of an accent there. What is that? English?” Emily leaned in slightly, as did Ryan and Alana, and the eager curiosity in their eyes made me want to smile—until I looked at David. I don’t know if it’s because he doesn’t care, or if he doesn’t want to know, but he sat still, with his fingers clasped just in front of his chin and a simple smile on his lips.
“Okay. Promise you won’t laugh.” I pointed my finger at them.
Ryan crossed his heart, and Emily crossed her fingers, laughing already. Alana and David waited patiently.
“Okay, I’m…from Australia.” Almost closing my eyes, I awaited the onslaught of giggling—but they just gawked at me.
“No way? You’re all the way from Oz? You’re totally like Dorothy,” Ryan said.
“Yeah, and that makes David Toto.” Emily laughed.
“Yeah, um, Doroth
y was from Kansas?” I corrected. “If anything, I’d be the Cowardly Lion.” Since I’m so afraid to walk out my own front door.
“No, the Tin Man. Didn’t that Aussie guy play the Tin Man in that movie?” Emily looked up at the ceiling as though her answer would be there.
“No way—Tin Man? Ara has too much heart,” Alana added. “You saw her play the piano?” She nodded at David.
Mockingly, I tilted my head and sighed. “Aw, thanks.”
When Alana ditched a piece of lettuce at me, David’s hand shot out and caught it—right in front of my face. My mouth dropped and everyone else burst out laughing. “Nice catch, David.” I looked at him with wide eyes.
“Yeah, he used to be on the baseball team,” Emily said.
“Really?” I turned to look at David; his timid smile dented one corner of his cheek.
“It was,” he stood up and reached across the table to drop the lettuce on Alana’s plate, “—a long time ago.” When he sat back down, he winked at me and leaned his chin on his hand.
“So, all the way from Australia, hey? You don’t sound Australian?” Emily said.
“Actually, I do. Just not so much anymore.” I smiled softly. “I’ve spent the last month or so working on my accent, but you can hear it when I get upset.”
David shifted in his chair.
“Are you ashamed of it?” Alana asked.
“No.” I shook my head. “I just didn’t wanna draw any extra attention to myself.”
“So, is it different over there to like, how school is here?” Emily stabbed a carrot with her fork and held it up just in front of her mouth.
“Well, we have our school year from January to December, and we break over summer as well, except it’s over Christmas.”
“Christmas in summer?” Ryan stared into the distance. “Weird. But cool.”
“Actually, it’s not cool,” I said, “it’s really, bloody hot.”
Emily and Ryan stared at me blankly. Alana stifled a soft giggle. “Summer is hot, Ryan?” She nudged his arm. “Not cool?”
I looked at David, who shook his head, trying not to laugh at my terrible joke. Emily and Ryan did the same, half smiling. “Okay, that goes in the vault as the worst joke of the week.” Ryan pointed at me again with his ketchup-covered chip.