4I had just walked through the gates when the school bell tolled through the institution adults liked to call a school. I heaved a sigh, pulling my helmet off before securing my embarrassingly pink and small bike to the stands. "No point in hurrying since I'm already late," I thought as I slouched towards my locker. I ran a hand through my untamed hair and glanced at my reflection in the mirror as I stuffed my bag in. Slamming the locker door, I glanced at my watch. It seemed I missed homeroom as well this time. Unwanted guilt swimming in my veins, I tried to slip seamlessly into my first class without attracting any attention. Tried, being the operative word.
"Jess Freeman!" Mr Ridgeway bellowed. He was the bane of my existence and never failed to pick on me to answer all the example calculus questions.
I rolled my eyes and prepared myself to face the music.
"Freeman! Don't you roll your eyes at me! This is the third time you've been late and I will no longer tolerate this insolence. I expect to see you, at eight sharp, at my office on Saturday."
A searing glance towards my audience stifled the snickers. Seemingly without a care, I shrugged and sauntered towards the nearest spare desk. I sprawled in my seat and pretended to sleep, my chin supported by my hand. With my thick eyelashes to veil where my attention really was, I noted that the colour of Ridgeway's face was nearing purple. I faked a yawn to disguise the smirk. Ridgeway sputtered for several seconds, his eyes throwing daggers in my direction, before continuing the lesson.
Amazing. For the first time since I had the misfortune of being signed to Ridgeway's class, I was not called to answer a single question. I was still reeling with the sensation of triumph when I felt a hand pull me back.
"Dude!" Dave exclaimed. "What the hell were you pulling there? I really thought you were going to be in the shits! Half an hour, Jess! That's really bad, even for you. Only you would have the guts."
"It wasn't really a matter of guts. I missed the bus."
"Oh no," David groaned. "You didn't come to school on that again, did you?"
"Hey! Not so loud, Dave! Veronica has feelings," I replied jokingly. "And really, you don't notice the pink... after a while."
"Yeah, that may be so but there is absolutely no way you could miss the stares and sniggers people – sane people – throw at you all the way to school," Dave retorted. "What about the streamers?"
Okay, the streamers were irritating but Dave would crow at any concession, taking it for defeat. "Look, I know she isn't as smooth as my five-speeder," I said in a defensive tone, "but at least she didn't fall apart after a couple of metres."
"I'd have to see it to believe it! It's pink for God's sake! All pink electronics fall apart, that rule has to be somewhere! Even Rachel refuses to ride it anymore!"
"Maybe I wanted to get in touch with my feminine side," I countered, peering at my nails before continuing in a falsetto. "I really need another manicure, don't you think? Maybe with some pink polish this time instead of the French I decided on last time."
"Dude," Dave repeated. "Stop that. It gives me the creeps."
I grinned and slung an arm across his shoulders. "I'll take you one day. You'll finally know the error of your ways and will enter the dark, or should I say, pink side."
"What do you have next?" I continued before Dave could a word in.
"Uh, Ancient," Dave answered, a disbelieving expression on his face.
"Mmmm, Tutankhamen againright?" I laughed, veering right as we came to the stairs. "Have fun studying dead bodies and organs! I'm heading for real history."
I hurried towards class with this provocative statement thrown over my shoulder. That was one argument we never failed to tire over.
Modern History was undisputedly my favourite class. It had everything going for it: a great teacher, a nice-enough class, an excellent curriculum. And Josh.
Just thinking about him made me sigh, a besotted smile pasted to my face. He was everything that defined perfect. From the crown of his hair, an unruly mass of brown streaked by the sun, to his scuffed black school shoes. Oh, how I wished to run my hands in that unruly hair, which curled ever so slightly on his shirt collar. Like every other guy in the school, Josh wore the school blue shirt and gray trousers, his shirt tucked into his pants from the constant nagging of teachers. I imagined that by now he would've rolled up his sleeves, an attempt to cool down from the sweltering weather. And the body beneath those starched clothes was prime. Long bones, long muscles from rugby, cricket, swimming, water polo... from every sport known to man. And what was I doing fantasizing about him? Me, the nerd. The muse. The strange. Everything he wasn't. I sighed. I wasn't his type, not by a long shot; he wouldn't be caught dead with the likes of me. Well, I could dream, couldn't I?
Why did I like him anyway? It was despicable, disgusting. I'd fallen into the biggest cliché of teen novels. I had a crush on the school's biggest jock, who was arrogant and egotistical to the point of narcissism... and unbearably hot.
Speak of the devil, I breathed to myself, mentally shaking myself out of my daydream. He swaggered into the room, the walk of one assured that attention would be riveted towards him. That face. Too handsome for his own good. The aristocratic nose that, miraculously, had not been broken from rugby, the firm jaw... and the eyes. God, the eyes. Piercing sky blue that seemed to see right through you... I could go on forever. He flashed a smile towards everyone in general – arrogant, smug and confident.
Outwardly self-possessed, my pulse began to throb and my temples to pound. Then my breath caught in my throat and my chest constricted when I realised that the only spare seat was next to me. Big surprise and did I detect sarcasm in there? After all, only a person running late would want to sit next to Jess, the epitome of weird.
I ran an agitated hand through my hair as I noted Josh's hesitation before approaching me. Would it ever stop hurting, rejection?
"Uh, hi," Josh greeted me as he inched towards the desk. I rolled my eyes involuntarily. His eyes widened, as if to ask what he had done.
"I'm not contagious, you know." I sighed as I started to brood.
"What crawled up your back?" I heard Josh mutter as he pulled his textbooks out.
I glanced out the window, looking anywhere but at him. Couldn't the teacher hurry up? I scowled, wishing the class would end, despite the fact that we were finally on my favourite topic; World War II. Then I'd be out. No more hesitant looks from Josh, as if he had a choice between the seat next to me and the floor. I let out a laugh at the image of Josh on the floor before I thought to stifle it. After all, it was precisely that type of thing that earned me my reputation of being strange. Jess Freeman, who laughs for no apparent reason, content with just the company of my thoughts.
The second hand ticked away the time, crawling like a snail around the face. Noticing another worried glance towards me from Josh, I studied the clock assiduously.
The teacher seemed to have noticed my mood today; I was left alone with my thoughts for the lesson. I tried to ignore him, but it was futile. How could you ignore someone when his subtle scent of sweat and man constantly drifted towards you? To have your desire within arm's reach from you, but know in your heart that he wasn't for you... that was what hell was for me.
After the most unbearable fifty minutes of my life, the bell tolled, signalling my escape. I stuffed my pens into my pencil case, the clock face imprinted in my vision in, as the teacher reiterated our homework. Never mind homework, I could get that from someone tonight. The need to escape from the torture of sitting next to Josh filled my concentration.
I rushed over to the bench beside the school gates, bypassing my locker and the packed lunch that waited in there. With my head cradled in my hands, I noticed the headache that had been brewing. Right now, I didn't give a damn about how whacked I looked right now.
"Hey, Jess! What's up?"
"Ugh," was my incoherent reply.
"Didn't you just have Modern? You look like as if you just came out of double Maths, or something."
No reply. He didn't know. He might've suspected, but he didn't know. There were some things that shouldn't come between friends. This type of stuff, anyway.
I pasted a smile on my face that even felt fake before lifting my head.
"Just a whopper headache. I'm fine."
"Huh." He suspected. It was clear as day on his face. But he was going to let it go, for me.
"Well, shouldn't you get some lunch? Or a drink of water?"
He'd probably accept this part of me. After all, he had always stood steadfast beside me, but I wasn't going to risk it. I couldn't risk the only friend I had in this hellhole.
Dave sat next to me on the bench. The bench next to the school gates with the school emblem stamped on it.
Sit Sine Labe Decus. Let Honour Stainless Be. Brisbane Boys College.