I DECIDED IT would be only right if I spoke again, even if Richard hadn't responded. He was curious to know what happened and there was absolutely no point in hiding it away from him. He was my best friend and there was no one better to tell other than him.
"I was smoking like usual until I felt smoke on me. Of course, I turned around to see who the twat was, but it was Mr David," I say and his jaw drops to the floor.
"He apologized for it and we made some small talk, and he, he just completely ignored the fact that I probably shouldn't be smoking. A little later, I left and went to class. I saw him walking in the corridors when I was making my way to the cafeteria and since I'm the smartest person on earth, I ducked my head, trying to hide," I say and roll my eyes at myself as Richard chuckles.
Taking a sip of water, I wait patiently for Richard to respond. Smirking, he replies. "Seems as though he fancies you, Kim," he says with a wink as I choke on my water.
"Come on, Richard. Be a little realistic, eh? That's as false as saying that you're gay," I say in a matter-of-factly tone.
He raises an eyebrow in disbelief; despite my recent words. "Really?" He says sarcastically. "He let you off for smoking on school grounds. Did he smirk at you?"
I scoff. "You smirked at me, that doesn't mean that you fancy me," I remark and roll my eyes.
He smirks at me again. "So he did, eh?" he says and I raise the middle finger whilst rolling my eyes.
"Jeez, Jeez okay. Question two. Did he lick his lips?"
I shake my head. "This is so stupid," I say as he gives me a pleading look to tell him the exact details. I groan and give in. "Yes. So what? Maybe his lips are dry, maybe it's a habit, I mean you never know what someone's thinking-"
"Exactly," Richard grins. "He could really like you and you could never know if it wasn't for my male guidance," he smiles and we both laugh. "Did he change his tone of voice by making it sound more husky?"
I rub my forehead in frustration. Deciding to just answer the question so he could shut up, I open my mouth to speak.
"Yeah but only once, that doesn't mean he likes me, okay? None of this does. He doesn't even know the first thing about me; I'm sure he doesn't even want to."
"I guess he doesn't know you, but I just want to know the details and know whether he finds you attractive by the very least. You don't have to believe me, but remember, I'm a guy. I know these things."
I sigh at his idea. Mr David is my teacher and discussing whether he likes me or not was just plain stupid. Who would risk his or her job just to be with someone? Especially with someone ugly and someone with not a single good quality? Ugly and fat was all I was.
"The fucking things I do for you," I chuckled breathily with a shake of my head as Richard squeals silently, making me laugh again.
Rubbing my temples at his crazy ideas and thoughts, I ask him what else he'd like to know.
Looking around in thought, he finally makes up his mind on what he wanted me to answer. "Ah, did he try to look you in the eyes?"
Rolling my eyes, again, at his stupid assumptions. He thinks simple actions like these indicates that a person likes or fancies someone, which was absolutely ridiculous. Especially since he was handsome and a teacher. But I agree to this. "Yes, Richard, he did."
A goofy smirk was begging to be revealed on his lips, which makes it almost impossible not to stick the finger at him.
"What was your response then, eh Kim?" he asks, edging closer as his head rests in the palm of his hand.
Groaning, I try to remember a single reason as to why I even wanted to answer all these stupid questions but my mind goes blank. "I looked away; something about his eyes was an anxiety trigger."
His smirk grows even wider; if that's even possible. "Or maybe you just find him too attractive for your own good," he says and I roll my eyes as he chuckles. "I'm positive that if you roll your eyes one more time, your eyes will pop out your blooming head."
I join his laugh; finding my recent acts quite stupid; I was getting pissed off at Richard solemnly based on the fact that he was asking questions. Not like I have any other friends trying to talk to me and pretending to care. I smirk, thinking of an idea that could definitely put him through a similar situation that I just went through.
"How's Cathy then?" I wink, knowing that I had been embarrassed enough, and it was his turn.
He immediately blushes and I smirked. I loved it when men blushed; it made them seem just as easily embarrassed as us women. So cute, so vulnerable. He cleared his throat. "Well, I know you don't like her, Kim."
I roll my eyes and shake my head. "Look; you like Cathy right? Then go for it. Just because we have a bad past doesn't mean you can't have a good future with her, alright?"
He gives me a small smile, showcasing that I was indeed right and that he was thankful that I was alright with the idea of them being together. He places his hand on top of mine.
"Thank you so much, Kim."
I ruffle his messy blonde hair with a laugh. "No need to think me, ladies man," I say with a little wink as he blushes more.
Licking my lips, I feel my throat go all sore and dry as sand all over. Making me groan mentally, not physically, as my throat didn't have the power to do that at the moment, making me take a long sip of my water again.
Hearing Cathy's name brought back an awful amount of memories, when we were both sick; very sick. It was two years ago, in the very early times of my now blossoming eating disorder. The three of us were a team, Ri, Cathy and I.
Richard and Cathy always were very close, but so were Cathy and I. Cathy's disorder, now that I think of it, was so much worse than mine. She taught me so much; getting laxatives from the pharmacy, stealing cigarettes from our fathers, giving food to friends, measuring thighs - I would be in hospital if she didn't teach me how to get away with things.
She taught me to have multi vitamins, use hair oil frequently so it wouldn't all fall out, talk about periods with your mother so she wouldn't know that you never really had it. Cathy went away for a year, and she seems to have recovered well, but some of the things that she taught me, though useful, dangerously traumatic.
"Now, I'll hold your hair, and I want you to stretch your fingers as long as you can, and if it feels uncomfortable or weird, you're doing it right," she reassures, and I does as she says, feeling myself beginning to gag and everything just beginning to pour. The taste of vomit in my mouth is disgusting, and makes me feel even more sick.
I flush the toilet and wash my hands before brushing my teeth. "Good," she smiles. "You have to take care of your hair, nails and teeth otherwise they'll find out, and-"
"They're going to make me fat," I said sternly and pulled her close to me for a hug, feeling her backbone as I stroke her back. "You have a backbone? You're so lucky," I gush as she lifts her shirt, and I sigh in desperation.
"Think about that when you're hungry," she orders and slaps me hard, and I nod eagerly. "I mean, look, you don't have a thigh gap, your stomach isn't flat, you jiggle when you walk and you have so much backfat. How can you wear what you like if your body was not meant for it?"
"I'll make my body for it. I promise I'll get skinny," I say, feeling myself tearing up. "You'll help me, right?"
"Someone has to help you," she smiles. "Are you smoking three times a day?" She asks, and I nod. "Coffee?"
"Black," I reply.
"Why do you smoke?" she quizzes me.
"The more I stress, the more cortisol, the more appetite, more food, more backfat," I recite. She had taught me well.
"And if Richard asks?" she raises her eyebrow.
"We are getting healthy for summer," I say and she hugs me once again.
She smiles brightly. "Let's get on with the push ups, Kimberly."
"Kim? Where'd you go?" He laughs, waving his hand in my face.
"Oh," I laugh along with him, "you know, Mr David, and how gorgeous he is," I lie, although that wasn't completely untrue. Sir was very attractive, and Richard would become occupied with convincing me that he liked me, which would take the focus off the fact that I was thinking about Cathy.
Richard speaks up again. "Look; I know he doesn't know much about you, but he kind of likes you now; and once he finds out more, he'll fall too hard for his own good."
I roll my eyes again. "What makes you so sure?" I answer; knowing that there isn't any evidence he can say to back up his statement.
He smirks and I know then that he obviously does have evidence to back up the fact that he 'kind of likes' me. "He smirked at you, licked his lips and talked you huskily; all of these things are signs of flirtation."
"He could just be flirting with me to tease me a bit and do my head in. Doesn't exactly mean he takes a fancy to me," I snap.
He raises his arms in surrender amusingly. "It's just a thought and my opinion. As a guy, these are the signs we do to kind of indicate that we find them attractive or fancy them."
I select to end all this stupidity of taking things too seriously and overthinking by shrugging his thoughts away and acts of convincing me into thinking that like he'd actually like me. That's like the popular boy falling for the nerdy girl; never happening. The popular boy would never trade his status for the girl, and the boy would become so encompassed in his social hierarchy he would forget all about the fact that it has no meaning.
I had much more evidence than he had to prove that he didn't like me because the list was never ending. It was a stupid idea to even discuss these things just because he smirked, licked his lips and spoke huskily.
I don't even know much about Mr David, but he seems like one of those guys who has a good taste in women; good tastes in women exclude your students who are maybe ten years younger than you, who are probably ugly, immature and annoying.
"I'm flunking the rest of the day. Care to join, Glen?" I ask, getting up from my seat whilst licking my lips.
I probably had the worst back-to-school day and I didn't have the patience within me to wait until three o'clock in the afternoon to go home and leave this hellhole.
He ruffles the back of his gorgeous blonde hair; an act he always did when he was deep in thought or mentally debating about something. Finally coming to a compromise, he speaks up. "Why not, Browne?"
I grin at his response; I couldn't be any more lucky than I already was, could I? "Glad to hear the great news, Richard. The usual exit, I presume?"
Richard smirks. "Right you are, Kimberly," he says and follows me towards the fire exit; the exit we always used to flunk school by.
"Where to then, Mr Glen?" I say with a smirk as he continued to play along with this oddly formal way of speaking to one another; this was so unusual for us to talk in this manner unless we were just joking.
He links arms with me, making us laugh together, in unison. "Where to has continued to be a mystery to me, Miss Browne. Would you kindly suggest an area?"
"We'll just go for a roam in the park. The last place I want to go is home," I say and he nods in agreement. We didn't exactly hate our parents, it's just they were both really annoyingly caring especially mine since I had anxiety, anorexia and insomnia so their worrying was never-ending.
He chuckles, "Same here, Kim," which wasn't necessary for him to say since this fact was already known to me.
Opening the door, the fresh autumn air hits our faces, making me feel so much better; always being inside was incredibly suffocating and a massive anxiety trigger which was good in a way, because I got to get away from my parents which I sometimes need.
We walk until school was out of sight and taxis were in sight. Richard did the typical sticking his arm out for a taxi, which only worked after two, or three attempts, which I somehow found highly amusing.
"Burberry Park, please," I say once Richard and me were sat peacefully inside the taxi with both car doors closed. The taxi driver simply nodded and began to drive.
Burberry Park was a place that Richard and me had went to countless times ever since we were at the small age of eight years old. I wish I could say it was in the quieter places in Derbyshire but it wasn't. The only busy and less calm place was in town; everything else was so, utterly quiet.
The list of memories that Richard and me had shared here was countless; but both good and bad memories. My first panic attack, our first little mini fights over the swings and who was 'it'.
Amazing how those years had absolutely flown past. I couldn't believe that I had panic attacks for about seven years. I'm sure I would have these for the rest of my life as all treatment had been attempted but all had failed.
We called it 'The Bur', partly because we were too lazy to pronounce the full 'Burberry Park' and partly because we had been here for the last ten years and we absolutely needed a nickname for this place.
It was both of our escapes; from all the problems, drama, school pressures, relationship issues and incredibly worried parents. The relationship between my parents and his was probably one of the best relationships out there.
They've known each other as long as I had know Richard and they knew that he was nothing more than a brother because if we wanted something to happen, we would of let that happen years ago.
Burberry Park was and still is, beautiful. People said that the most beautiful things are gone unnoticed, and they were completely right. Not much people came to this park, it was literally just Richard and I.
When you entered the park, it was filled with greenery. Grass covered the whole park and large oak trees were sprinkled all around the park. If you walked a little further, there was a beautiful little hill that Richard and me used to roll around on, but as we got older, we just stared at the sky above us.
No matter how many times we came here, we were forever in awe of how much beauty this place contained. Lots of people would just find this park just a regular park, but they were wrong. It was so much more.
This was the place where we had forgiven and made up, the place where dark actions happened, and the place where millions of smiles and laughs were shared. So many memories were made here that it was impossible to not look an item in the park and not remember a million different flashbacks.
Thanking the taxi driver and handing him his money, we step out of the car and walk past the gates which was guarding the park and walked together to the hill whilst glancing everywhere, appreciating every inch of this place.
"This will always be my favourite place to go, no matter how much I travel," Richard says, admiring the landscape as I nod in agreement.
We approach our destination and we both lie down and if we wanted to talk to each other, we'd simply just tilt our heads to look at each other. "In the mood for a roll?" I ask.
He gives me a smirk which I return as we climb up the hill and look at each other cheekily before we roll down. "Go!" Richard shouts in Irish tone as we roll down, feeling the lovely fresh air and a rush of fun in our veins. We were such babies.
Chuckling madly, we return into our usual lying positions, looking above us. "Never gets old," we say together.
I tilt my head to look at Richard. "When are you asking Cathy out, Ri?" I say as a little bit of blush creeps onto his naturally pale face.
He smiles shyly. "Tonight at seven," he says as I widen my eyes in shock.
Already? I didn't mind at all, but I just told him an hour or so ago and he already had the date planned and everything?
"Wow," I breathe in astonishment as Richard nods his head awkwardly and sheepishly, obviously embarrassed that we were talking about his personal life.
A few hours pass as Richard and I discuss more of his so-called date, I have several panic attacks and we leave the park slightly early, as he has to get ready to pick up Cathy. I found it completely hilarious how he was still so embarrassed to talk about his personal life even though we were best friends and we had talked about this millions.
My house wasn't far so I decide to walk back even though Richard felt so guilty just because I was walking in the evening alone. It was sweet of him to worry but I am an eighteen year old. I can take care of myself; well, as much as I want to.
As I requested, I was walking back home which I was dreading more than ever. I knew they were going to stab me with a million questions because I didn't use my phone that much and they had probably left me more than a million text messages which I found incredibly annoying.
I just wanted to go home with being bombarded with billions of questions, soak into a warm bath and read Alex David and John Cooper Clarke poems. I hear that he also sings and he might upload a recording of it, which makes me scream in happiness because I'm almost positive that his voice was going to be the most beautiful thing.
Sighing, I open the door and take a final inhale of fresh air before I knew I was going to be slapped in the face with questions.
"Kimberly Browne! Where in the bloody hell were you?" My mother says with her kitchen apron on and messy.
Her hair was scraped back into a ponytail to prevent her perfect auburn hair coming on to her face.
"Burberry. Where's dad?" I ask surprisingly calmly. My mother looks at me in confusion as she tilts her head in confusion at my peaceful reaction, as my reaction was normally an outburst.
"I hope you went with Richard," My mother says as I roll my eyes. It was like I was eight, not eighteen.
"Dad's at work, sweetheart. Have a bath and come downstairs for dinner, would you?"
Without speaking, I nod my head in obedience and make my way tiredly into my room, which was the most impersonalised. My mum had pressured me millions to make it more 'me' but I didn't see any reason to, so I didn't.
Running myself a hot bath, I gather all the things that you need when you're taking a bath; your lingerie, indie rock music on vinyl, change of clothes, a towel and bath salts.
This was by far the most relaxing part of my day. Just soaking in a pool of very warm water as The Strokes played lightly in the background. I knew that this wouldn't last forever because my overly nerve-racking mother. I massaged my hair and body with selective products and rinsed myself before putting my lingerie and towel.
Wrapping my hair in a towel, I slip on a pair of pyjama shorts, knee socks and a tank before heading downstairs for dinner. Very informal, I know especially since I was going to see my father for the first time for the whole day even though it was currently the evening.
My mother greets me with a smile. She was used to me basically living in my pyjamas so she displayed no act of being shocked. I see my dad and he smiles wide as he usually does when he sees me and I hug him.
My dad was my favourite out of the two of my parents. Yes, he did worry, but no where near as much as mum. He cared about me and was there for me a lot of the time and understood me.
That's all I wanted in a father. Or maybe less. Perhaps two parents who just didn't care would be perfect.
Taking a deep breath, everyone sits down and I pray mentally for this dinner not to be a tremendous nightmare.