\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/596993
Item Icon
Rated: 13+ · Book · Romance/Love · #1442220
Campbell moves to Oakridge and becomes enmeshed with Jack, who has a life-changing secret.
#596993 added June 3, 2009 at 9:11pm
Restrictions: None
Note
All through lunch I hid in the girls’ bathroom, choking back the tears that tried their hardest to pour down my cheeks. I hugged my knees to my chest so my feet wouldn’t give me away and bit my lip so no whimper could escape. I tried to breathe deeply and calmly, breathe in the plastic scent of he bathroom, and eventually I loosened my bite on my lip.

I sat like that, hardly moving, until the bell sounded. I had no desire whatsoever to leave my stall, but I forced myself to creep out of the bathroom and take the shortest route to Physics.  I entered the classroom, not knowing what to expect. Would Chris apologize? Ha! That was a laughably insane idea. He was too conceited to admit he did something wrong. So I guess I would be ignored. That was fine with me.

I took my stool quietly, not even attempting to recognize that Jack was sitting in the seat next to me. Gabbie, Chris, and Tiffany were staring at their desktops, pretending not to notice me.

Jack cleared his throat softly. “I don't want to say I told you so...” he whispered, so quietly that it was barely audible. I prepared a nasty glare, but when I saw that his sapphire eyes were apologetic and not smirking, it melted.

“Oh,” I mumbled, a bit breathless. It was hard for my respiratory system to function when he was around. “You heard that.”

He nodded sadly.

I gazed up at him. “How did you know? About Chris, I mean.”

“I told you to trust me,” he said, folding his hands and resting them on the tabletop. His sad eyes locked on mine.

“I should have,” I whispered.

How was it that he was so inhumanly beautiful? He wasn’t just some cute guy you could tell your friends about. There were truly no words to describe him. That black hair looked as if it was etched in marble, it was so well sculpted. The perfect planes of his pale, pale skin looked soft to the touch. His buttoned white shirt complimented his chest, and he also wore dark jeans. Without thinking, without even an ounce of cautiousness, I slid my hand up to his. I barely brushed his fingertips before his hand was suddenly gone. He had withdrawn it so fast I didn’t even see it. I looked up, and his grim expression surprised me. There was something wrong. In the instant that my skin met his, I felt a sensation equivalent to that of touching a block of ice. I flinched, three seconds too late, and my eyes widened. The tips of my fingers were tingling. A sudden memory came to me: a man in a dark room, reaching out to me… touching my shoulder… his skin hard and cold...

He sighed.

I made a desperate leap for normal conversation. “So-”

Suddenly his head snapped up. “I would be flattered if you would agree to let me take you out to dinner on Friday.”

Holy crap. Where did that come from?! I blinked rapidly. He had said all that in such a formal, gentlemanly fashion that I nearly fell off my stool (again.) Was he serious? Was it another set up?

“I… I… okay,” I uttered feebly before I even realized what I was saying okay to. Was he not the guy who had followed me on Friday night? Was he not the guy who showed up at my house the next morning? And yet somehow I had already completely forgiven him. My mind was spinning so fast that I was tempted to hold my head in place. A familiar, half-smirk crossed his face. Even that was amazingly stunning.

“How about I pick you up at seven?” he suggested, running a hand absentmindedly through his hair.

I nodded. Before anything else could come out of my lips, Mr. Barnes had entered and was attempting to quiet the class. He dimmed the lights and started a video on the dusty TV-on-wheels. I tried to look inconspicuous as I pulled a sheet of notebook paper out of my folder. I wrote,

“Thanks for warning me about Chris. I really should have listened. He's a jerk. And sorry for slamming the door in your face.”

I passed it to him. He had barely glanced at it before his pen was dancing across the page.

“No problem. By the way, we’re starting a project tomorrow. Want to be my partner?”

Wow. Talk about penmanship. I scribbled back,

“How do you know? Mr. Barnes hasn’t told us about it.”

“Never mind that. So is that a yes? I figured that someone else will make you do all the work. You're very smart.”

“And you figured out all this in two seconds?”

“It’s not that hard, Campbell.”

“Okay then. I’ll be your partner.”

“Try to look innocent. Mr. Barnes is suspicious.”

I stuffed the note hastily into the pocket of my jeans and pretended I knew what the narrator of the video was talking about. I saw a lot of vacant expressions on almost everyone else. Jack was trying to look bored, but he was probably… translating every word the narrator said into Italian or something. There was no doubt in my mind that he was very intelligent. The way he talked… and the way he looked off into space… it made you go crazy wondering what he was thinking about.

Suddenly I felt an impulsive, bizarre desire to burst out laughing. I shook with silent giggles. Jack looked at me, bewildered. I shook my head. Nothing was wrong. Who cares about Gabbie and Chris and Tiffany and Gage and everyone else? Their petty little teenage soap opera was unimportant.

My mood fell slightly, though, when I realized that I was probably going to be the primary topic of gossip all over the school. I had gone out with Chris, screamed at him in front of the whole student body and dumped my lunch all over his scalp, and somehow been asked out by Jack Lewis all in the five days I had actually been in school. Wow, what a scandal. I had a feeling that the female population of Oakridge wouldn’t be too fond of me. Maybe I could keep it a secret. But probably not.

I wondered what Vanessa would think when she found out that her daughter was going to dinner with the mysterious, unfriendly Jack Lewis. Could she be disappointed? Or would she just ignore it? Or could she possibly be happy?

The thing was, none of it was my fault. It was almost as if I was a problem magnet. I was just a regular, run-of-the-mill New Jersey eighteen-year-old. There was nothing unusual or out of the ordinary about me. I was a bit on the short side, maybe skinnier than I should be, but I definitely wasn’t a runway model. I never had the coolest clothes growing up, or the shiniest car, or the best grades. Don’t get me wrong, I did well in school. (Except for that one class in seventh grade, but I won’t go there.) Maybe it was just the fact that I was an outsider that made me special here. Oakridge hadn’t been my lifelong home like almost everyone else. I guess that’s why people were drawn to me. I was someone new to look at. That would wear off, of course, but for now I would have to put up with the stares and whispers.

I was in a fog as I entered Art. I sat down quietly in the only empty seat that wasn’t near Chris, next to a girl with auburn hair and braces. She looked at me, delightfully surprised.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” I asked quickly in case I was taking someone else’s spot.

“Not at all!” she chimed. “I wouldn’t want to sit by Chris either.”

“Umm…” I began.

“Hi. I’m Piper Small,” Piper Small said. She indicated a blonde girl with glasses and freckles in front of me. “This is Johanna, my cousin, and Nathan Davis.” The other person at the table, a good-natured looking curly haired boy, grinned happily. “Guys, this is Campbell Harris.”

Oh, I forgot. Everyone here knows my name. What privacy.

But my new acquaintances all seemed like nice enough people, so I didn’t complain. What a small-town name, though. Piper. Weird.

Mrs. Green was in one of her “phases,” as Johanna informed me. She was so enthusiastic that she managed to knock over a can of colored pencils on top of a high cabinet and send them flying like lethal missiles, causing several people to duck and take cover.

So, when the danger was gone and I started my two-point perspective, I tried to gather what little artistic talent in my body that I inherited from my dad. He owned an architect business in Trenton, so naturally he was creative. He was a very popular architect, too.

As I was drawing, Piper, Johanna, and Nathan talked excitedly about spring break next month. Apparently Johanna was going to Florida, and Piper was trying to convince her parents to let her go too. Mrs. Green hovered over me like a mosquito, clearly intrigued by my actions. She made a delighted noise when I finished shading a section of my paper. It was slightly disturbing.

In gym, I was paired with Piper, who I hadn’t even known was in my class. We were still playing doubles in tennis, but with new partners. It turned out that she was just a klutzy as I was, so, of course, we made one heck of a team. We missed every single ball and every time we served, it took us at least two tries to get it over the net. Toward the end of the period, Piper ended up accidentally chucking her racket over the net and giving Megan Sommers a bloody nose. And I ended up twisting my ankle. When, finally, the most miserable class of the day was over, I struggled back into my regular clothes and began to limp down the sidewalk.

“Hello,” said a pleasant voice.

I jumped. Somehow, right in front of me, was Jack Lewis.

“Whoa!” I couldn’t stop myself from saying.

He chuckled. “You twisted your ankle, huh?” There was a two second pause, in which I was too dazzled to speak. “Do you need any help getting to your car?”

“Uh, no, I’ll be fine. This isn’t the first time.” I waved my hand like it was nothing. “Thanks, though.”

As he was sauntering away, I couldn’t help but stare. How did he know I twisted my ankle? I was only limping; it could have been my knee or shin or something. It wasn’t like I was running around screaming, “Oh, the pain! My ankle!”
             
And how had he appeared so suddenly?

I hobbled up to my Impala, but someone was already there.

Chris Wallace was leaning casually against my car. My car. I stopped, he advanced. If it came to it, I could use my heavy shoulder bag as a weapon.

“Campbell. Hey,” he muttered.

I continued to stare suspiciously at him.

“I wanted to tell you I’m really sorry. I was a huge jerk. And I totally deserved the salad.” He grinned slightly and scratched the back of his neck. “You’re a really nice girl. So, can we just, uh… start over? As friends?”

For a moment I considered shouting again, but I decided to let him off the hook. “Uh, sure.”

“Okay. Thanks!” he said, smiling awkwardly. “Um… ‘bye.”

I stared after him as he trudged across the parking lot. I thought I saw a fleck of lettuce lodged between his blond spikes. Or maybe I was imagining things again.

***

Vanessa was in such a good mood when I got home that I couldn’t bear to burst her bubble by telling her about Jack. She was still excited about Chris. While we ate dinner she buzzed about the ritzy birthday party for the mayor’s wife coming up. She told me that we were going to the Westwood Mall next Wednesday to go dress shopping for the occasion. She admitted to raiding my closet and finding nothing fancy enough for me to wear.

“… the mayor’s wife, Kate, I just know you’ll like her, Campbell-”

I jumped when I heard my name. I hadn’t been paying the slightest bit of attention to her ramblings. I nearly choked on my dinner.

“Anyway,” she went on, “there’ll be lots of people there for you to meet. You’ll get to meet Cecilia Brown, and…” she suddenly stopped.

“What?” I asked.

She shook her head slightly and put down her fork. “Jonathan White.”

“Who’s he, again?” I  asked, not really caring anymore. I was barely able to keep up with everyone she told me about these days.

“An intern in my office. He’s nineteen, I think, and very handsome. If it wasn’t for Chris…” she raised her eyebrows at me.

“Ugh, Vanessa!” I griped, pausing and trying to find the right words to break it to her. “Chris and I decided to be friends. That’s all.”

“Oh.” She looked heartbroken for a moment, then tried to hide it by taking a huge bite of pizza. I sympathized for her. I wondered what would be worse for a mom: her daughter dating a different guy every day or her daughter not dating at all, and having to shove her along. I was pretty sure (well, at least I hoped) that I didn’t fall into either of those categories. Yet.

“But I am going out to dinner on Friday with someone else," I continued casually.

She sat up straighter, her eyes alight. “Who?”

I took another bite so she would have to wait to get the answer. It tortured her to wait. Then I decided it was now or never, and swallowed. “Jack Lewis.”

I sighed when her mouth fell open.

“Vanessa, I don’t understand what everybody’s deal is. Why does everyone hate him? Are they jealous? Is it just because his family doesn’t socialize? That’s not fair at all! He’s been very nice to me, and I’ve never heard him say anything rude about anyone.” Well, besides Chris.

She stared at me, halfway shocked, her mouth still hanging open a bit.

“Sweetheart, you’re getting the wrong idea. I don’t understand it either. It’s unfair, I know. No one should judge him just because they don’t know him. But that’s the way things are. They’re just all so… withdrawn…” she trailed away. “But I am happy for you Campbell. Really.” She seemed sincere enough. I smiled sheepishly. “Where’s he taking you?”

“I don’t know yet.”

She gasped suddenly. “Maybe he’ll take you to Charlestons! Your father took me there on our first date. I don’t know, it might be a little too fancy for you two though…”

Then she began a babbling spree. For once in my life, I felt lucky to have such an easily-distracted mother.

***

I didn’t want it to happen.

But it did, of course.

Physics class was becoming the high point of my day.

If I had to choose only one hour of my day that I got to live, it would be that hour when I sit next to Jack.

So when I waltzed into Physics the following afternoon, much happier than I should be, I couldn’t help but grin at his very presence. He was just sitting there like he would any other Tuesday, but today, he seemed to glimmer. I looked around and noticed their girls staring at him, transfixed.

“Has anyone ever told you your smile is contagious?” he said when I perched atop my stool.

I chuckled. “Thanks.” My spirits had been hugely uplifted since lunch, and the awkward conversations between Gabbie and Chris and the other seniors in the gang. “Well you look like you’re in a better mood than usual,” I told him.

“What mood am I usually in?” he asked casually.

I considered for a moment. “I don’t know. It’s like your not even in a mood. You just… sit there.”

He grinned for some reason, an action that scattered my heartbeat. I noticed how dazzlingly white his teeth were. They were perfect from every angle. His canines were half visible, and they were a teensy bit pointy. My dad’s teeth were like that, but they weren’t all that noticeable. I had little time to stare at his teeth, though, because Mr. Barnes was explaining the project that, thanks to Jack, I already knew about. It was mostly an essay, with a two minute presentation. It would be nothing.

When the bell rang, we had already finished our whole project. Jack caught me before I scurried off.

“By the way,” he said quietly, so no one could hear. “I switched my schedule, so we’re in the same art class.”

I paused and looked into his smoldering blue eyes that were focused on me. Did he try to do that? Or was it natural? “You didn’t have to do that,” I stated finally.

“Well, I was thinking about switching before you even came here. I had Spanish fifth hour, and everyone knows that’s useless. I don’t plan on hopping the border anytime soon,” he reassured me.

I sighed. “I give up. I just give up,” I mumbled to no one. I give up trying to avoid him, I thought to myself. From now on, I don’t care. I don’t care if he followed me or anything. He’s a great person. That’s really all that matters.

We walked together to the Art room. He was silently laughing the whole way. And I was confused the whole way.

***

When the last bell rang, I felt like crying from joy. Tennis had been unbearable again. I didn’t even want to think about it.

I practically dashed to my car, threw the door open, and jumped in. Then something made me stop. There they were. But I had never seen them so close before.

They were Jack’s sisters, standing a little ways away next to his gleaming black corvette. They seemed to be arguing, about what, I couldn’t tell. I ducked a little bit and peeked out my window so they couldn’t see me. The smallest one, Hazel, who I recognized from Physics that day when she was talking to Jack when I came in, had her delicate white arms crossed, and her face looked annoyed. Her short brown hair was being jostled by the breeze. The taller one, who Gabbie had told me was Bronwyn, was searching the parking lot with her eyes, probably looking for her brother. She was long and thin, like a model, with wavy light blonde, almost silvery, hair that reached her shoulder blades.

Then Jack came striding up to them, his face solemn, and instantly his sisters started asking him questions. Jack was silent as they blabbered, both angry, and got into the car. They drove away, leaving me stunned.

Finally I decided it was none of my business what they were arguing about and started my car. I drove home carefully, promising myself that I wouldn’t run into anyone else’s car for at least the rest of the school year.

When I was home, Vanessa was still at work. I found a note on the refrigerator telling me she would be home at seven o’clock. So, having nothing else to do, I called my dad.

“How was school today?” My dad’s husky, lovable voice asked over the phone after the usual “hello, what’s up” introduction.

I was planted in a chair in Vanessa’s living room, the cordless phone lodged between my ear and shoulder and the mail on my lap. It felt so great to hear his familiar voice; it was like finding a long-lost toy that had once been your favorite.

“It was great, actually,” I said, surprising myself.

“Glad to hear it, kid! What was so great about it?”

“Well…” I paused. “There’s this guy.”

I heard a strange sound.

“Dad, don’t panic,” I continued. “He’s taking me out to dinner on Friday.” I waited for the awkward silence.

“Cam’s finally got herself a boyfriend?” he said in a mock-surprise tone.

My face reddened, and I was glad he couldn’t see it. “Da-aad! He’s not my boyfriend!”

“What’s his name?” he asked.

“Will I ever see him again if I tell you?”

He made the classic Harris family “ugch” sound.

“His name is Jack Lewis,” I told him.

“Hmm… well, it’s a nice name, not hippie-ish or anything…”

“You are so weird.”

“Does he have a safe, five-star crash test rating car, preferably with electronic stability control? Does he have a decent haircut?”

“Dad! Don’t worry. He’s a very good person. Very polite. You would like him. And he doesn have a nice car, actually.”

He laughed. “I know, I was just kidding. I’m sure you chose him well. I hope you have fun.”

“Thanks.”

“So how’s Vanessa doing?”

“Pretty good, actually.  She got a new job as a secretary for the mayor of Oakridge. She actually likes work. She left me a note today saying that she was so excited because she’s working late.”

He chuckled. “Hmm. That’s weird. Well, I don’t wanna keep you from your homework-”

“Wow, thanks…”

“I’ll send an e-mail this week, okay?”

“Yes, Dad. I miss you.”

“I’ll come see you next month, maybe.”

“Okay. Love you.”

“Bye, kiddo.”

I hung up.
© Copyright 2009 Erin-bo-baron (UN: cupcakesgorawr at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Erin-bo-baron has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/596993