Tuesday 14th May, 2019
I woke up the next morning with a jolt.
Groaning, I realised I'd fallen asleep with my clothes still on. Even my feet were still cramped in trainers. Last night flashed through my head; fire, blood, black curly hair, snarling lips. That one word, "me".
Mother hadn't been too happy about me coming home later than expected, especially looking as sweaty and shaken as I did. But even as I lay on my bed, the door shut tight, sprawled and staring at the ceiling, sleep wouldn't come. I'd tied my hair back, untied it and tied it again. Cleaned my glasses four times.
I couldn't work out if he'd been joking - was there a curfew? What was his name? What had they been doing to that boy? I could only hope my unfortunate bag-dropping meant he'd got away.
Those big, dark eyes haunted me. The way they glinted under the streetlamp, almost glowing. . . It seemed abnormal.
I'd fallen asleep with the grim realisation that I might see the four of them - including the curly-haired one - in school tomorrow.
As I got up now, rubbing my eyes, I went to get ready. Ten minutes later, I stood in the mirror and looked. Wavy bronze bob, black round glasses; dark eyes stared back at me, pitifully normal. Not special at all.
I wore brown dungarees, a purple t-shirt underneath. Part of me wanted to go to the desk and put on more make-up, but the other part was trying to make it obvious that I was making no more effort than normal. Not for anyone.
I ate my jam croissant on the way to school again. Crumbs surrounded me, but the tight knot of dread in my stomach made it hard to care. God, what if he came and spoke to me?
Pulling into the car park, I felt more eyes on me than before. Granted, I was driving a bright yellow Beetle, but I was yesterday too! Feeling stupid, I killed the engine and sat there, looking out the windshield, across the lot. When my eyes found what I was looking for, I gulped.
That must be their resident spot. The last row, in the left corner. Two between cars, two sitting on them. Involuntarily, I looked at the curly-haired one. I found his dark eyes, only to see he was already looking straight at me. His lips quirked up in a cruel smile, but I couldn't look away. Like a force was pulling me. . .
A billow of smoke blew across his eyes from the cigarette in his mouth. It set me free.
Cheeks flaming, I leapt from the car, shrugging my backpack on. This time, I avoided them and walked with a row of cars between us. I vowed not to look at him; my heart did stupid things when I did.
I feared for my health.
Speed-walking into school, I pretended I didn't feel eyes on me, gratefully melting into the crowd. They were all headed one way, and I watched the baggy brown bottoms of my dungarees crease as I walked, distracting myself from my destination. These dungarees hid the less-than-smooth shape of my legs marvellously, I mused as I walked.
Taking the same seat in the assembly hall, I looked up at the tapestries and thought, bitterly, how much my parents would adore it here. Too much. More than me.
I put my backpack under the seat, pushing my wild hair behind my ears just as someone sat next to me. I turned to smile.
He was startlingly blond, thin with a strange goatee. "Hello."
"Hi," I replied, voice getting lost in the din.
"You're the new girl, aren't you?"
"Yes," I nodded. "There's more people asking me that today than there was yesterday." There was a cold laugh from behind, all too familiar. I froze, not turning around. Why didn't he just get lost? He told me to stay away from them, so why couldn't he do the same?
But this blond guy turned, and then rolled his big green eyes when he saw who it was. "Julian," he muttered to me. "Ignore him. Horrible buggar."
I stared at this weedy boy with the goatee, who'd just called that guy, who could probably stamp on his neck with no regrets, a "horrible buggar". Then a hysterical cackle burst from my lips, hooting around the hall.
Realising the headmistress had stopped speaking to glare at me, along with the other 400 students in the room, I shut up.
And cursed myself all the way through assembly. As if I needed any more reason for them all to hate me. When they found out I was an atheist, I'd have no chance of making any friends. Not that I needed them; I'd always been fine on my own, but it was nice to have someone to talk to, hang around with. Not someone with ridiculously good looks and black curly hair who forces young boys to cut themselves with knives.
I sighed. The blonde boy next to me was whispering prayers, and I stayed quiet as usual. A name was bouncing around in my head - Julian. Was that his name? It was oddly graceful, for someone as dark and cold as him.
I stood with everyone else, ignoring the dirty stares. Ignoring the pressure of one stare in particular.
A hand curled around my elbow, and the blond boy stood smiling. "I didn't catch your name."
"Brooke," I returned the smile, thankful he was only an inch taller. "Brooke Miller."
"Cute." I knew then, as he shook out his hair. "I'm Brendan Willet."
"Brendan," looking around, the hall was emptying fast. "It's great to meet you, but I think class is starting soon. . ."
"I've got to go too," he hoisted his backpack up, following me out.
First class crawled by. I spent the hour changing pens because none worked, and trying to force my hair into a bun, already knowing it was way too short. My work ethic deserted me, which was scary in itself, but what was scarier was that now I knew the horrible buggar's name, it was even harder to keep him out of my head.
I shook my head on the way to third class; this was stupid. I'd barely even met the guy. I had to focus. The only thing propelling me forward was that it was English Literature next.
I pushed the door open, smiling warmly at the teacher, and then smiling even wider when I saw someone different than yesterday in the seat next to mine.
I slid onto it and grinned. "Hello," I said, "what are you doing here?"
Brendan's goatee wobbled as he smiled. "Someone was just keeping my seat warm yesterday."
I frowned. "I didn't see you in class yesterday."
"I wasn't in yesterday. Food poisoning."
"Damn, that sucks." I tapped my exercise book. "You can borrow this to copy up if you want?"
He laughed, "no, that's fine. I've already snatched someone else's."
I smiled, focusing on the front of the classroom, where Mrs Middle was elaborately describing the plot of Jane Eyre. I didn't even have to listen; it was already stuck in my head. This was a good thing on one hand; I wouldn't have too much trouble catching up, apart from in maths. But I always needed catching up in maths.
On the other hand, not having to listen meant my mind wandered. Wandered to the fact there was someone sitting next to me who knew Julian.
Julian. The more I thought about it, the more he suited it. His slender, lightly muscled build probably could be graceful, but the angular bone structure of his face never could be. His jaw was too sharp, so were his cheekbones.
I clamped my hand around the pen to keep from asking Brendan for information about Julian. Who did I think I was, anyway? Some kind of detective? This was ridiculous. If he found out I was snooping, he'd probably knock me out. If the embarrassment didn't before he got to me.
When the bell rang, I waved to Brendan. He was kind enough to speak to me; he shouldn't feel pressured to eat with me, too. It was no use pretending people didn't point and whisper as I walked past. They probably all saw me not joining in the prayer this morning and were getting suspicious.
Feeling sick, I walked faster and into the library at full speed, a book-hungry bull.
The bald man behind the desk shushed me. "Quiet," he whispered, pointing to the middle of the library. I crept over to him.
"What's going on?" I asked, hushed.
"Tuesday detention."
"Detention?"
He nodded glumly. "Do what you want, just be quiet about it, hon. Okay?"
"Okay. Thank you."
Turning, the comfort of shelves and shelves of books washed over me. Outside, the rain was hammering on the huge floor-to-ceiling window between two shelves. Walking down the aisle, it was between another two shelves that I caught the glimpse.
Chairs were set up in the centre, about ten of them, all plastic and blue. Four rows, one behind another. I noticed that each had a holy book flat on the desk, all open apart from one.
His long, pale hands were on either side of the desk, away from the book. I would have carried on walking, if it wasn't for the unmistakeable mop of unruly curls on his head. I was silently admiring how they shone under the light, wondering what shampoo he used, when he turned around.
Those dark eyes looked straight at me, and in the moment before I ducked down, they were wickedly amused.
Heat rushed into my face, glasses fogging. For God's sake! What the hell was wrong with me?
Completely embarrassed, somehow I thought getting caught ogling the back of his head - not even his face - was worse than getting caught digging for information.
I stood, walking swiftly to the back of the library. It was okay - he couldn't get up, he was in detention. Yet my legs were trembling as I set my backpack on the floor. His warning from last night echoed in my head, 'stay away from us'.
A warning. That's what it'd been.
A chill went up my spine. I wanted to flee from the library, but what could I do? Eat in the toilets? Try and worm into friendship groups that didn't want me? I continued to alphabetise books, being a coward.
My eyes widened as I realised that's exactly what I was being - a coward. I didn't like that.
Putting the books back, I was just picking my backpack up, when he was there.
"Hi." Came the voice. Deep, confident. Instantly recognisable.
I gulped. "Hello, Julian." I started messing around with books again.
"You know my name." He didn't sound surprised.
"I think everyone knows your name."
"I don't know your name. What is it?"
"You don't know my name?"
"No, I do." I looked at him, eyes wide. He leant on the book case next to me, a foot away. Too close for comfort. I moved backwards slightly.
"Why are you asking me for it, then?"
"I wanted to see if you'd tell me."
Against my better judgement, I glared at him. His face didn't move, but amusement flashed in those dark eyes. I couldn't make out if they were black or dark brown. . .
He pushed the black curls out of his eyes, but they flopped back again. "I'll take it you wouldn't have told me. Brooke."
"You're annoying," I said lamely.
"Thanks."
Sighing, I ignored the pounding of my heart as he crossed his arms. "What are you doing over here anyway?"
"I'm in detention."
I wanted to ask why, but bit it back. "Detention isn't over here."
"No, you are. Which is just as boring."
The insult hit me like a slap; I'd been called that plenty of times, but he didn't even know me. Not even the beauty of his mocking grin could prevent the fury. "Nice." I gritted out. "You don't even know me."
"I'm not saying I do."
"Don't make assumptions about me, then." I was barely keeping it together. He may be beautiful, but he was obviously a dick.
There was quiet; I looked over to see if I'd put him in his place, but his mouth was twisted, eyes calculating. "I didn't come here for idle conversation." He said finally.
"Just to insult me then?"
A smile twitched at the corners of his lips, but the cold mask took over. "No. I can't seem to help that."
I rolled my eyes. "Fantastic."
"You're a strange little creature, aren't you?"
I blinked at him. I knew better than to take insults from an ignorant teenage boy like him to heart, but he'd just belittled me and insulted me. Why was I standing here, giving him the time of day? Pushing my glasses up my nose, I stalked off into the other aisle.
He followed, leaning closer than before.
"Can you leave me alone? Detention's over there."
"I have a question."
"Are you not even going to apologise for being rude?"
He shook his head, and the curls shook with it. "No. You are strange, and those glasses are hideous."
My mouth fell open - would he stop? I searched him for something to pick on, but there was nothing. Pale, beautiful face, hair belonging on a runway, shapely biceps crossed over his chest, feet crossed over one another in black combat boots. They were a little muddy, but mentioning that would be lame. The whole black look just seemed devastatingly gorgeous on him, and I hated it.
"You're hideous," I blurted.
Shock pulsed in his eyes. "I haven't heard that one before."
"What else can you expect from a weirdo like me?"
He stared at me. Once I met his eyes, I couldn't look away. They were cold, dark. But wide, and emotion burning beneath that couldn't get through. The atmosphere grew heavy, something in it crackling--
Julian looked away. "You're right," he snapped. "I want to ask something. That's all."
"Fine."
"Why don't you pray in assembly?"
My head shot up. That was the last thing I was expecting. "What are you talking about?"
"You know what. In assembly, why don't you pray?"
I rolled my eyes, recovered from the shock. "Because I don't want to."
He straightened up. "Why wouldn't you want to?"
"You don't pray either."
"That's the beside the point." He said flatly.
I cocked my head to the side, trying my hardest not to feel intimidated by the height of him, and the patronizing way one of his eyebrows was raised. "No, it's not. Ask yourself why you don't pray."
He shakes his head, "I know why I don't pray. I want to know why you don't."
I was mystified. "Why are you so bothered?"
"Well, you're religious aren't you?"
"This is a religious town," I said carefully, remembering the crowd to get into church, the enthusiasm with prayer in assemblies. "Anyone can tell that just by the amount of people going to mass in the morning. But you shouldn't assume everyone here is religious just because of that."
His eyes glazed over for a moment. "What are you saying, then?" Julian smirked, expression controlled. "That you don't believe there's something up there? In a God?"
"Yes," I nodded. "That's exactly what I'm saying. Although I don't know why you care--"
"Wait," he cut me off. "You don't believe in God?"
"No."
"At all?"
"Nope."
I watched in muted shock at the intensity of his eyes. Julian was frozen. I could feel eyes on me, and turned to see every head in detention turned my way, staring through a gap in the shelves. Julian didn't look like he was moving any time soon; I consider for a second if he's in shock.
Curiosity burned in my mind, wanting desperately to know why he was reacting like this, but it wasn't enough to keep me. I didn't want to be associated with someone like him.
"I'll see you around," I muttered, and ducked around him.
As I darted away, my ringing ears picked up the sound of my name being hollered once, followed by a sharp "shush!" But I didn't turn around.