Mia Luce

Friends

The next morning went by in a blur. In my laziness I took advantage of the handy “sleep” feature on my alarm clock, so that when I finally got up it was half an hour before school started. Having taken a shower the night before, I got dressed and forced down another Nutri-Grain. Vanessa left early again (I think she actually liked work) so I stared at the wall some more. I wasn’t sure, but I think I must have come out of my morning trance some time in Calculus, because it was then that I started to feel nervous about Physics. Already. 

When the bell rang, Gabbie and Tiffany brought me over to the vending machines, and politely reminded me of everyone’s names. “Hey Campbell, we missed you yesterday,” Cora Smith said as we started toward the cafeteria. “Were you sick?” 

“Yeah. I wasn’t that bad, but Vaness- I mean, my mom- made me stay home,” I explained. 

“Oh,” Cora mumbled again. “Well, don’t get sick again, okay? Everyone here kept asking us where you were; they wouldn’t leave us alone.” 

My stomach churned. “What do you mean by ‘everyone’?”

 “I mean everyone,” she said simply. I decided to leave it at that. 

Lunch wasn’t fun. Gabbie was batting her eyelids at Chris, who she had been prattling on about all day. Chris was obviously pleased; he kept smirking at other guys in the lunchroom. I thought it was all pretty stupid. Gage and Tiffany were engaged in a conversation, so that pretty much left just Cora and I, since I noticed that Lark Lawrence didn’t really talk much. I could tell Cora was feeling awkward. 

So, fourth hour came. He was there when I walked into the room, unfortunately, standing next to his sister, who he was talking quietly to. I managed to avoid his gaze all the way to my stool, pretending to be interested in something written on the marker board. When I heard him clear his throat behind me, I whipped around, and felt like I had been smacked in the face. How had he just appeared there? Two seconds ago he had been on the farthest side of the room! Or maybe not…  

“Now you are in my seat,” he half-whispered, half-chuckled. My eyes widened, mortified.

“I’m sorry!” I squeaked, flushing red, and scurried over to the correct stool. I looked up at him and he looked down at me (him being several inches taller) and my hands started shaking. I put them in my lap. There was his perfect, snowy complexion, his shiny black hair, his eyes… 

“Are you feeling okay?” he asked, his voice concerned. 

“No,” I blurted out, then cursed myself internally. 

“Are you homesick?” he pressed, his eyes flashing around like an ocean.

I made sure Mr. Barnes wasn’t in the room and no one was listening before I answered. 
“A little,” I admitted, just to keep him talking. I had to keep hearing his voice, or else all the adrenaline in me would dissipate. He nodded, as if he understood my situation exactly.

“Why did you come to Oakridge, then?”

 I thought for a moment. “I’m not really sure. I guess because I’ve lived in Trenton all my life, and it gets boring to be in one place for eighteen years.” 

“That’s a long time,” he agreed, and my head felt woozy. There was a short pause, in which he studied my face. 

“Hey, where’s that girl who sat here Monday?” I asked him bravely, noticing that the bespectacled and braces-clad girl was not there.   

“Over there,” he mumbled, pointing toward a table near the front. It was her, all right, seated there like that had been her spot all along. Oh crap. I was alone with him. Well, alone in a classroom of people. 

“What a strange idea,” I said aloud to no one in particular. 

“I wonder if we offended her,” he sighed. My stomach fluttered when he said “we”, but I continued as if nothing happened.

“Did she ask to change tables?” I asked him as if he knew. 

“I don’t know. She was sitting there when I came in.” 

At that moment, Mr. Barnes entered the room and immediately handed us an assignment. He didn’t say anything to the girl, so I was forced to assume that she had gotten permission to move. Jack and I didn’t get another chance to talk for the rest of the hour. Our packet of worksheets had to be completed by the end of the class period, and it was rather large. The whole time I was writing down answers, I was mentally applauding myself for holding an almost-successful-however-brief-conversation with Jack. 

I finished my water color painting in art, and for some reason, Mrs. Greene loved it. I insisted helplessly that it was horrible, but she tacked it up on he wall next to paintings by more skillful students. I was glad I had decided to put my name on the back of the picture and not the front. I got several nasty glances from the artsy kids near the front, but Chris, Gabbie, and Tiffany deflected them with looks of awe and admiration. 

The prospects of not playing tennis in gym were dull. I lagged and procrastinated in the locker room for as long as was tolerable, then marched off to sure death. Coach Burns paired us up (I was put with a tall girl with wavy sand-colored hair) and stationed us with another team at a net. There were only four nets, so some teams had to wait for their turn; unfortunately, my team did not. When Coach Steele stuck a racket in my hand, a small, strangled noise escaped my throat, and he looked at me curiously. My teammate, who informed me that her name was Aimee McCauley, introduced our opposing team as Kailee Tanner and Josh Williams. Congratulations, I said to them in my mind. You’ve already won. 

And win they did. I felt sorry for Aimee. She was pretty decent at tennis, but got exhausted with having to take up my slack. She learned quickly that if a ball came my way, she had better run and get it or it was gone. The one time that I actually hit a ball over the net, Aimee was so surprised that she missed the next one. When my agony was over, our conquerors played the next team, and so on. Finally the bell rang and I ran to my car with my bag over my head to shield me from the gray rain that was falling in bucketfulls.

***

Vanessa was giddy from work again. I couldn’t figure out what her deal was. At dinner, I tried to find out. “So work is going good, huh?” I asked her. 

She grinned. “Oh yes. I think everyone at the office is getting to know me better. They’re all so nice.” 

“So how many people work there?” I pressed. 

“Well, there’s the mayor and the city treasurer and the council or whatever, but I work with one other secretary, Cecilia Brown, and an intern, Jonathan White.” 

“Brown and White… colors,” I remarked blandly, feeling like an idiot. She laughed.

“Yeah, we call them the Crayons.” 

Huh. Clever. I took a drink of tea awkwardly. “So, uh… do you know who Jack Lewis is?” Oh crap! Why did I say that?! 

She almost choked on her chicken. When she recovered, she asked, “Why?” 

My face reddened. “Oh, I don’t know. He just seems so…” 

“He’s good-looking, huh?” Vanessa interrupted. 

“Well, yeah,” I admitted, giving her a suspicious look. “But on Monday I had to sit at his table in Physics, and everyone was acting weird when he talked to me.” 

She stared at the oven for a moment. “I don’t know what it is, honey, but… I know the Lewis's. Not personally, but other people tell me the whole town’s a bit…wary of them,” she explained, choosing her words carefully. 

“Why? What did they ever do to anyone?” I asked, wondering why I felt so offended. 

“Well, nothing. That’s just it- they don’t do anything or talk to anyone; all five of them are so quiet and withdrawn. In Oakridge, everyone knows each other, and even after two years they haven’t made any friends, like you have in just two days. It’s… unusual. His parents are always away for work. I don’t even know what they do, I think they’re anthropologists or something." 

I pondered all of this. So what if his parents weren’t around much, so what if he was quiet and… distractingly good-looking? He was nice enough to me, I guess. The rest of the meal was eaten in silence.  

That night I had one of the strangest dreams I’ve ever had. I was in the school cafeteria, standing next to Vanessa. All the tables had been pushed against the wall and we were standing on a stretch of tile. Suddenly, Jack came through the double glass doors; I gasped when I saw him, even in my dream. He had great, horrible looking wounds in his bare chest, and his flesh was torn and bloody. He collapsed at my feet, and I rushed forward to help him, but Vanessa grabbed me and pulled me away.

Before I could even blink, a wall sprang up in the space between me and him, a tall, medieval looking wall. Even though it was only a few feet wide, I couldn’t seem to get around it. I was frantic, clawing through air helplessly, thinking that I had to help Jack or something bad would happen. Vanessa just stood and watched me with a quaint smile, repeating the phrase, “We can’t be friends.” But one thing was different. She wasn’t saying it. Jack’s voice was coming out of her body. 

I woke up in a cold sweat. My arms were thrashing through the air, like I was still fighting at the solid, impenetrable wall. I put them down after realizing that I had been dreaming. I closed my eyes and tried to calm myself, but I couldn’t get the image of Jack, bleeding and helpless, out of my mind. 

Morning came at its lethargic pace. I lay awake until it was six fifty-five, then turned my alarm off so that it wouldn’t ring. My shower was turbulent. The nozzle got stuck in the “massage” position, so for fifteen minutes all I got was water pounding on me. Unfortunately, that’s also what I got when I left for school. It had stopped raining overnight, but once seven o’clock rolled around the clouds opened up and unleashed their fury on the earth. Traffic was slow today; everyone was being careful on the slick roads. I grumbled and turned on the radio, but all that was on was a weather report. I parked next to the same big pine tree. It was becoming a habit. 

Before I could open the door, I heard a tapping sound. I jumped so violently that my hand shot up and hit the car horn, which sounded loudly. Jack Lewis was tapping on the passenger side window, holding an umbrella over his head in one hand. My shock was so great to see him there that I merely gaped for a few seconds. When I saw his anxious blue eyes I took a huge breath and reached over, opening the passenger door. “Climb in,” I said, my voice a little shaky because of my wildly beating heart. He folded his umbrella, shook the water out of it, and ducked into the car. He shut the door and the sound of the rain was slightly muffled. He was silent for a few seconds, his porcelain face studying mine.

“I’m sorry I scared you like that. Are you okay?” His soft, velvet-like voice soothed my shakiness.

“Yes, yes, I’m fine.” 

He looked down at the seat, and a pained, sad look crossed his face. “Well, please excuse my interruption,” he said, looking up once more. “I… have something to tell you.” 

My heart skipped a beat and I almost gagged on my own breath.

“Okay?” 

“I… I don’t want to sound rude, Campbell, because I barely know you, but… this is for your good and mine,” he paused, lost for words. “We… shouldn’t talk to each other.” 

This wasn’t what I had expected. What had I expected? I sat frozen, like a cube of ice, expressionless. Finally I choked out, “I don't understand.” 

He sighed sadly, staring at the wet brick of the school building. “I guess what I’m saying is… we can’t be friends. I know we're only acquaintances now, but I want to keep it that way."

 My eyes widened as I recognized the words from my dream, the phrase that had been uttered repeatedly from Vanessa’s mouth, but with Jack’s voice… we can’t be friends. Finally I recovered after a few agonizing moments, and I decided to pretend that I didn't care. “I wasn’t aware we were friends,” I said coolly, turning my head away from him. 

“Let’s hope it stays that way. Believe me, the farther away you are from me, the better.” Something about the way he said that sent chills up my spine. I tried to make my face look impassive, to hide my hurt feelings, but my self-control was quickly failing me. “I should go,” he mumbled, reaching for his umbrella. 

“Yeah, you should,” I replied, a certain cold finality in my tone. He opened the door and his umbrella and left without another word. I watched his pale figure all the way through the double glass doors. I felt like a ghost as I glided through the parking lot. I barely even realized that I was being slopped with rain. Aimee McCauley, my tennis partner, ran up to me with an umbrella, asking if I was okay. I told her I wasn’t sure. Jack had completely and utterly rejected me. I felt like such an idiot for thinking that he was being nice to me because he actually wanted to; I had been forced into his presence, and he had been forced to be polite. I annoyed him, that must be it. Every time he said something to me I got blushy and wasn’t able to form correct sentences in my mind, much less say them aloud. He must have gotten sick of trying to communicate with me. But hadn’t he looked so sad when he said, “We can’t be friends”? 

No, I wouldn’t give myself that hope, that satisfaction. He was nothing to me now. He was a stranger. I would forget that he and I had ever met. Walking up to English, I resolved that I wouldn’t think about him all day. He wasn’t important enough to think about, just like the other nameless faces in this school. But I couldn’t stop that empty, sad feeling from washing over me. I felt like crying, however silly and feminine that seemed. Come on, Campbell, I told myself. Pull it together, you blubbering girl.

The moment I sat down, Tiffany asked, “What’s wrong, Campbell?” Was my face that easy to read? 

I turned around in my seat. Gabbie had her head rested on her arms, a dejected look on her face. “Nothing,” I said, and  sounded convincing enough. “What’s wrong with you, Gabbie?” 

She inhaled deeply and sighed. “Chris broke up with me.” I tried to keep the surprised look off my face. I hadn’t even known they were officially dating. I stole a glance at Chris. His eyes met mine, and he looked down at his graffiti-covered desktop

“I’m sorry,” I finally muttered. 

“Yeah. Thanks, Campbell,” Gabbie lulled, her eyes tearing up. I guess the rain’s got everyone depressed, I thought. 

“Hey, you’re too good for him anyway,” I remarked, trying to cheer her up. She sniffed. “Men are scum,” I continued. “They aren’t fit to polish our shoes.” A grin broke through Gabbie’s melancholy look. Tiffany laughed. 

“I feel better,” Gabbie admitted, smiling. “Who needs a boyfriend, anyway?” 

“There you go!” Tiffany cried. Mr. Stevens came into the room then, called role, and heaved a very large stack of stapled papers into his arms. 

“These are… your graded book reports…” he announced, struggling to keep them all from falling. Once he began passing them out, it got easier for him. Mine was placed on my desk. I looked at the rubric with surprise. I had gotten a “100.”  I stared at some scrawly words written in red ink. 

“Excellent! This is one of the best book reports of all my students. Your choice of topic was phenomenal, and I could see that you really connected with the book and described its symbolism perfectly.” And below that, “P.S. Would you consider moving to my advanced placement class?” 

My head felt dizzy. All this just because of a three-page book report? Well, yeah, I “connected with the book,” but only because Jane Eyre is my favorite. Of course I understood its symbolism; I’ve read it five times. I didn’t feel like I deserved any of his praise. 

Gabbie poked me in the back. “What did you get?” I gave her my rubric. “Wow, a one hundred? Awesome! I got a ninety-six.” She handed me her paper, and I saw she had read Pride and Prejudice, another book I liked. 

Tiffany and I exchanged papers next. She gave out a low whistle when she saw my grade. “I made an eighty-eight,” she told Gabbie, “because ‘my choice of book was poor.’” 

“What did you read?” Gabbie asked curiously. 

“Left Behind. It’s a Christian book series my mom loves. Maybe Mr. Stevens is an atheist or something… I could sue.” Gabbie politely pointed out the little wooden cross on the wall next to the printer. Tiffany grimaced, but laughed. I felt surprisingly happy that morning. The drama of the parking lot was driven out of my mind by the drama of the cafeteria. Chris and Gabbie sat as far away from each other as possible while still remaining at the “cool table.” I was commissioned to sit by Gabbie’s side, along with Tiffany; Gage was taking up with Chris, and Lark and Cora were stuck in the middle. Lunch passed too quickly for my taste, which was at least a change from the usual long, drawn out torture session.

I tried not to dread Physics, and to act like it was just another class. And it was. Sort-of. Once the first few minutes passed and I got over the initial shock of seeing Jack again, the time passed like a normal class period. We were doing a simple lab today: rolling cars down a ramp and timing them with a stopwatch. Supposedly this had something to do with inertia and friction.  We spoke to each other as little as possible. All I had to say was, “Go.” Then I would let the car roll down, he would give me the time, and we would write it down. It became a pattern. The class seemed to have noticed a coldness between Jack and I, because they didn’t stare or whisper like they had been doing before. I was glad. 

Strangely, Chris was not in Art. Gabbie acted like he had never even been in the class, but Tiffany and I were mystified. She told me so when we went to the back of the room to look for pastels. 

“Maybe he got sick and went home,” I suggested. 

“He probably ditched this class because Gabbie’s in it,” Tiffany put out, and I had to agree that that was the most likely scenario. But who cares, anyway? Just more high school drama for me to ignore.

Gym was better than I could have hoped for. One of the nets had been broken, so with only three available, there was a long waiting list. Fortunately, Aimee McCauley and I didn’t even have to play. I prayed that the other three nets would be broken by tomorrow. When I was ready to leave, it was still pouring, the water smacking loudly against the concrete and asphalt. I ran, my head bent forward, toward my car. Then, the rain suddenly stopped. Bewildered, I glanced around. Then I realized there was an umbrella over my head. Oh. Its owner was Chris. 

“You know, you really should bring your own umbrella,” he said casually. 

“I thought all this would stop by now,” I returned, gesturing toward the gray clouds. I didn’t have any bitter feelings toward Chris, that was just Gabbie. He seemed pleased that I wasn't giving him the cold shoulder too.

“Haven’t you learned yet? It never stops,” he explained, smiling beatifically. I peered up at him, then said,

“Okay Chris, what’s your point? I have a feeling you didn’t stop me in the middle of the parking lot to talk about the weather.” 

He chuckled. “Are you busy tonight?” 

“Very,” I lied, my heart skipping a beat. 

“I don’t think that’s true,” he teased. 

“Actually, I’m not sure if I should be mad at you or not, Chris.” 

“Is this because of Gabbie?” he asked, his face turning steely. 

“She’s my friend. I don’t want to hurt her feelings.” 

Chris sighed, exasperated. “You won’t, Campbell. She broke up with me. She couldn’t care less who I date now.” 

“I’m sure she could,” I counteracted.

“What if I told you Gage and Tiffany are coming too?” 

“Coming where?” 

“To the movies tonight.” 

I gave him a dubious look. “Tiffany’s going?” 

“Yes,” he breathed. 

“You promise?”

“I promise.” 

I bit my lip. “And she knows you’re asking me?” 

“She gave me the idea to ask you.” 

I sighed. “Alright, I’ll go.” 

He grinned, obviously relieved. “We’ll pick you up at six. We’re just going to see a movie and then to eat somewhere. Tell your mom we’ll be back by ten.” 

“Okay. See you at six,” I mumbled, after I told him where my house was and all that extra stuff. He followed me to my car, holding the umbrella over my head. As I climbed into the seat and turned on the engine, the truth really dawned on me. I was going on a date. Okay, a double date, but it was all the same. I had never been anywhere with a boy. My dad would’ve cringed. I marveled at how smoothly I had pulled it off. I felt rebellious, empowered, and I grinned. 

Suddenly my car lurched forward and I slammed on the brake. My whole body jerked out of the seat, but my seat belt wrenched me back, and my head was whipped forward and backward sickeningly. When I regained control of my spinning head, I groaned. I had just rear-ended another car. And- oh, this was just my luck- the car happened to be a sleek, shiny black corvette convertible. At first I thought it must be a teacher’s car, but then someone stepped out of the driver’s seat that I hadn’t expected, and my bad luck increased tenfold. Jack Lewis was running toward me through the pounding rain.

I unbuckled my seat belt, my head throbbing, and got out of the car like I was being arrested. I waited for his furious yells. But instead of that, I heard, “Campbell! Are you hurt? Are you okay?” He ran right up to me and stopped an inch short of colliding with me. People had already started gathering in a circle ten feet away from our conjoined cars. 

I put one hand over my eyes in an effort to control myself and also to hide my face from onlookers. After one rattling breath, I quietly said, “I am so… so… sorry!” 

He ignored me. “Did you hurt your head? Are you sure you’re okay?” 

I flung my hand down to my side. “Yes, Jack, I’m fine! Fine! But look at your car! Mine’s barely even scratched, and yours has a... a... crater in it! I’m so sorry! I lost control,  I was preoccupied…” At this, warm tears began to flow down my cheeks, combining with the cold raindrops, and I covered my eyes with my hand again. 

“Are you crying?” he asked quietly, trying to keep the group of stunned students from hearing. He was so close I thought wildly that he was going to kiss me. Was I going crazy?

“I’m… just… so… embarrassed!” I whispered. 

He stepped even closer. His face was only inches away. I could have touched it if I was crazy. “Campbell, it’s okay! Everything’s okay! I don’t care about my car, I’m just so relieved that you aren’t hurt!” 

“I’ll pay for the damages… I’m so sorry!” I gibbered through my tears. We were both soaked to the core by the rain.

“Don’t worry about it. I know it was an accident. My dad knows a mechanic who’ll fix it for free.” He gave me a sympathetic look then, as I wiped my tears away. 

“Are you okay?” I asked. “You didn’t hit your head or anything?” 

“No, I’m absolutely fine. You didn’t even hit me hard enough for the airbags to deploy.” 

At that moment, a teacher came loping down the sidewalk. “What happened?” she asked wildly. Jack stepped forward.

“Campbell just bumped into me, it was an accident.” I nodded to back up his story. “Are either of you hurt? Are we going to need an ambulance or police?” she asked. 

“We’re just fine,” Jack replied. 

She sighed with relief. “Okay. Can you get your cars started?” We both went back to our separate cars. His engine purred to a start, and mine puttered. The teacher waved us away. Jack went first. I waited until he had completely exited the parking lot before I made my escape.