Kimberly Eve Browne
EVERYTHING LATELY HAS been a blur. Fast pacing and flashing images with occasional sound and clarity was all it seemed like, yet at the same time nothing even felt real, just a privilege.
Things had been going great for me, and they couldn't be better, to be honest. I hadn't had a panic attack in about two days, which was almost impossible for my type of anxiety disorder.
I couldn't exactly say that I slept every night with completely blissful, no problem, whatsoever, although I couldn't exactly say I didn't sleep at all. I slept at least two hours a day, which didn't seem much to others, yet the world to me.
As for my anorexia, I couldn't say that I had been eating three full meals a day, for I would surely vomit all my food out without even trying, because of the sudden feeding.
What I could say is that, I was eating something every two days or so, which in all honesty was a big step for me, and I might not be on a feed this week. The ever prevailing guilt is always there, but I think I'm getting better at ignoring it. Ever since my anorexia got bad, they fed me through a tube, which still occasionally made me feel sick, and now they only have to do it once a week because I've been getting better with my food habits.
My parents couldn't be more relieved about this news, yet never forgot to worry, which Alex said was completely natural, and I guess he was right. I'm sure if I were to ever have a child, and if he/she had anorexia, I'd be worried too.
As for Alex and I, we couldn't be closer. He was my first thought of the day, and my last. I felt like that I'd known him for the period of time that I knew Richard; perhaps some people just happen to click.
With things going so well, it almost seemed way too good to be true. Things in life weren't just handed to you, were they ?It was like this ghost of things being worse was just creeping up on me, ready to attack. Perhaps things were just too surreal right now, and I needed a little breather.
Stuffing my penny into my black backpack, I jog over to Richard slightly pushing him to the side. "Alright, Richard?" I ask, slightly out of breath because of the jogging. I was so incredibly unfit.
He smiles wide at me, the widest I've seen a while, actually. "Look at you," he teases and faintly shoving me aside in a joking manner, "All bright, energetic and shite."
I attempt to laugh quietly, not wanting to draw too much attention towards myself. "I guess you could say I've been feeling good lately," I smile, and then pause before uncontrollably smiling once more.
Richard shakes his head in disbelief. "Look at you, you're smiling like a complete and utter twat," he says bluntly, slightly laughing at me whilst the red in my cheeks became a little more vibrant.
"Ah, fuck off," I say, and shove him aside once more and he bounces straight back, no part of him looking unflawed or dishevelled. Richard, can you teach me how to do so?
"You do shove me aside a lot, don't you?" he chirps, slightly walking faster and as do I, to keep up with him.
"I do," I state with a grin plastered on my face. Richard was right, I really was acting annoying and overly positive which wasn't who I was at all. I was like dark chocolate, bitter and unwanted. But for some reason I didn't care, it was like my heart was smiling with me.
"That's what you're going to say to Alex in a few years time," he speaks, with a smirk on his face and it almost takes every working muscle in my body to not slap him in the fucking head. Is there a day where he doesn't tease me?
"What, when he asks me to marry him?" I say sarcastically, as I roll my eyes.
"When he asks if you want sex," he speaks and immediately bursts out laughing, incredibly proud of himself for doing so, probably giving him a mental pat on the back.
Warmth spreads over my cheeks, as I slap his arms multiple times with embarrassment, which only causes him to laugh even more, also multiplying the red in my cheeks.
"You are such a massive pervert!" I shout to him and he only laughs more, and even though I was rolling my eyes, I couldn't help but continuously smile throughout the period in which he teased me.
The laughter died down with time, slowly fading into thin air, yet our smiles were forever glued onto our faces, even though the joke that was made was in the past, and our smiles were supposed to be history by now.
"I love having English-" Richard began, yet cut himself off when Sir Bloomsbury walked past, looking at me carefully, probably with concern; I could only imagine what my parents had told him.
As soon as Sir was gone and out of sight, I cut Richard off before he was to speak to continue what he started saying in the beginning. "He knows already, didn't I tell you that?"
"Wait, what?" Richard asks, with nothing but utter confusion clear in his tone.
It was then that I had realised that I had not told Richard a lot of things, and this was going to be a huge filler session. "Can't we talk about this later? We have Al first period?"
"You can't just leave me hanging! Can't we ditch English?" He attempts to persuade.
I immediately shake my head. "Al will be worried," I say, feeling sorry for telling him something and not telling him the rest.
A smirk arose and his stupid fucking lips, and I was done with this bastard already. "You have to grow out of the habit of calling Mr David, Al. I don't think he'll appreciate it in the classroom."
I shake my head at him again. "How can anyone take you seriously with that stupid fucking smirk on your lips?"
He shrugs, the smirk still on his lips. I simply shrug it off, sick of consistently being sick of his bullshit. "We could ditch second period, though," I suggest.
With the look of denial plastered on his face and the shake of his head, I knew it was a no. "We have him for second too," Richard refuses, and a sigh leaves me lips, feeling completely helpless.
I knew Richard wanted answers, which I was willing to give with a smile on my face, but when Richard needed something, he needed it immediately. "What are we doing in English?" I question.
"Why don't you know?" He replies, raising his eyebrows at me. Okay, you've had your fun. I gave him the shut the fuck up glare, and he rubbed his lips so that they weren't visible and raised his arms and surrender, and I couldn't help smiling. God what's happened to me?
"Don't know, I think we might be starting something new, since we're practically done with poems and poets and all that shite," he explains, as a frown takes over my face.
"Already? I really-"
"Yes, I know how much you really love poetry and all that jazz, but all great things must come to an end, am I right?"
I push him to aside and laugh at him, "Perhaps Alex really is rubbing off you," I suggest, an elated grin on my face.
Pushing the thoughts of Alex to one side, I try to remember the purpose for this conversation in the first place. "We'll just talk about it at break, okay?"
"What if we don't squeeze all the information in that period of time?" He further questions, and I face palm.
"We'll figure it out, okay? Let's get to class," I say, ushering him along.
Richard wiggles his eyebrows, and I knew what he was about to say could only be stupid. "Yeah, you're right. Don't want to be late for Alex the babe."
My eyes widen, and I push him aside for the millionth time. "He told you?"
"Alex the babe likes his pet names, eh?" He smirks and I could feel that I was almost one thousand percent done with his shit. I slapped his arm like ten times, as he laughed and exclaimed in pain at the same time.
"What a twat, I only said that once, and it slipped! He calls me all sorts-"
"I think you mean babe."
"Richard, I swear to fucking God-," I say in a firm tone before getting cut off with even more of his bullshit.
"I thought you were an atheist? Atheists don't believe in God, do they? Oh my god, Kim, know your shit."
I bite my lip and take a deep breath. Give me patience to deal with this cheeky fuck. "How the fuck do I cope with you?"
"I think the same thing. My looks are too much for people you know? I don't expect you to understand-"
"Jesus, just shut up!" I shout but then end up laughing at Richard, and myself because we were both acting like complete dickheads, and I could never be angry at him for more than ten seconds at a time.
"In case you were wondering, and I know you were because you're very curious, aren't you? Anyways, me and him had a little lad to lad chat, you know?"
My head turns to Richard in a flash, completely stunned at what I was hearing. Richard and Alex? Why did I not like that combination? "Ri, what did you say to him?"
"Shite you don't even like, like football-"
"Al doesn't even like football!" I retort, knowing there was something he wasn't telling me. Richard was and is an absolute shit fibber.
"Well-"
He tried to think of something instead of telling the truth, which I could tell as if it was the easiest thing in the world. "What did you say to him?" I say in a firm tone.
"What? Do you not trust me with your babe?"
"Don't even bring that up, I want to know what you said to him!"
He sighs, hopefully giving in. "I told him, that if he were to hurt you," he speaks, and I rub my forehead, in disagreement, "I would fucking beat the shit out of him."
"Richard, no," I say firmly, consistently keeping eye contact with him, "Whatever happens, it does not give you a right to beat the shit out of him."
Richard continues the conversation with a confused look on his face. "Why not?"
I take a deep breath. "Hurting someone because they hurt someone else makes you just as bad as a person, and if I were dating a girl, you wouldn't beat her up."
"Yeah, because she's a girl-"
"No. I mean you shouldn't be hurting anyone, cause it solves nothing." I say, attempting to explain to him what I was thinking.
He fiddles with his dyed blonde hair. "You're right, and I'm sorry, okay? I was just looking out for you," he says, and I immediately feel bad for having a go at him.
"Okay, okay," I say with a smile on my face as we loop arms, "Let's finally get to class yeah?"
He nods in agreement, as we finally try to get to class in a hurry, since being late always seemed to be something we did a little bit too often.
Rapidly slipping into our seats, and getting out the materials we needed for the class, I glance over at Alex, who was already looking at me, yet our eyes only locked for a split second because he looked away in a flash.
Everything seemed to go in slow motion when I looked at him, everything calmed down except for me, who just got hyped at the thought of him. It was so hard to just sit here, to just sit here and not do anything to him.
I wanted to push everything aside, run up to him, and tell him how amazing he looked with his hair jelled in his signature 50's quiff, his large, captivating eyes revealed, with those fucking lips of his.
He steps away from the table, a sheet of paper in his hand, and a show of what he was wearing; black blazer and slacks, showcasing his perfect legs, and white dress shirt, only peeking through, with a few buttons undone, driving me absolutely mental.
Al fishes a pen out of his pocket, twisting and fiddling with it with his slim, pale fingers as he silences everyone without saying anything, because everyone knew he wanted to say something because he was away from his desk.
With the lick of the lips and a sigh, he finally begins to speak, his voice sounding like an everlasting playlist of all my favourite music. "Register again. An answer with a 'here' or 'present' would be great. Off we go," Alex introduces, reading a list of names and receiving answers ranging in volume and pitch, of 'here' and 'present'.
When it came to my turn, Alex was trying to make it seem like any other student, and didn't make any sort of eye contact; he just skimmed through the register.
Setting the sheet aside, he claps his hands together, once again silencing the class and refraining them from any more small talk. "So I've collected the pieces that you've all composed, and I'm quite proud of the results, and so should you. There wasn't a single one I didn't enjoy reading."
I smile to myself at his kindness, before rubbing my neck, take out a pen and fiddle with it whilst hearing his words, trying my hardest not to look at him.
"Things are coming to an end, I'm afraid. Which means no more poetry and perhaps some creative writing or examinations of texts. I'll pass these books around with," he speaks, before his eyes wander around the room, "my chap Harry, quite a quiet fella; Get up you!" He says with a laugh that everyone begins to join.
Harry was the quiet fella, as Al had described, the guy who'd take the backseat yet complete all work and exceed amongst everyone unless it came to any verbal or expressive exercise.
The pair of them, Alex and Harry, passed the books around, as I prayed silently that Harry gave me my book in fear that I'd stare too hard at Alex, and make it far too obvious.
Harry hands a book to Richard, his brown, dishevelled curls occasionally being pushed aside as he walks faster than ever from Richard which only confused me. Why was he walking so quickly after handing a book to him?
"Here you are," Alex's voice awakens me from my track of thought, as he places the book on my desk.
I sit up and gulp, my hands slightly shaking, as I give him a weary smile. "Th-Thank you."
He nods, before twisting on his heel and walking away. That was the thing. Whatever he did, at any point in time, I wanted to know what he was thinking. When he looks at me, what does he think of? What does he think of the most? Does he ever think of me?
Does that make me nosey? Stupid? I don't even know, but this was the situation. I felt like every thought that passed through his precious little mind was worth knowing about.
"Kim? You seem in your own little world ," His voice awakens me once again, and I shudder in surprise.
"Yeah," I exhaled, letting out a little laugh.
I never failed to be in my own world, despite the time and place, which, as I come to think of it, is highly dangerous. Overthinking is what I do best. Replaying every second of my day, trying to make sense of it all is what I do; I always feel like I'm missing out on something, and I don't want to.
"Sorry, I didn't realise I was the only one left," I say, as I begin to pack up my things, but I feel a hand on my arm.
"Who said I didn't want you to stay?" He says, in that warm voice of his; for a second I almost forgot we were in school. As if it were just me and him, together, in our own world.
I smiled at him. He sat down opposite me. "How've you been lately?" I ask, stroking his hand beneath the table.
He quivers a minute, quick enough to make me question it. "I've been good, Kim. Being with you is just -"
He stopped, but I feel the rush of warmth and adoration from him, almost as though it was pouring out. "Is just what?" I asked.
"Well I figure you're sick and tired of me telling you how crazy I am for you," He said, almost whispering, and smiling as he said it.
I play around with his fingers, almost to shy to look at him without blushing like a mad person.
He grasps my fingers, stopping them from moving and holds my hand, using his thumb to stroke the back of it. "Hey," he soothes. "You alright?"
"Yeah. Richard told me he met up with you," I speak, hoping that he understood that this was a signal for him to tell me every detail, because I felt there was still something Richard didn't tell me.
He strokes the top of his head, before turning around and making his way to his desk, as I followed him like a lost puppy. "Yeah he did, " He answers, barely talking about it.
"Why are the pair of you so silent about this?" I question, eager to get something about this.
He smiles at me, and I instantly forget about everything and why I even questioned him in the first place, before he places two hands on my shoulders.
"Calm down," He soothes, and I felt as though I could just moan at the sound of his voice; it was gold in audio. "All we did, was talk about us, and where this might go. He also talked about himself. It was a sharing session, and nothing more. No secret threats, I promise."
It was as though he had taken a peek in my brain and answered all the questions that were buzzing throughout my mind. "Okay," I say with a deep breath. "Shut me up," I plead, the words coming out of me like vomit.
He looks side to side, probably checking if anyone was there, before smiling widely at me, and cupping my cheeks with two hands with his fucking humongous hands.
He slowly moves closer towards me, his lips only brushing against mine as I go crazy inside, and felt as everything was going to slow, but when he kissed me at last, the blessing began and I felt as though we flew to heaven, and everything was fucking perfect.
He made me feel like everything was okay, that time had stopped and nothing has ever happened except us. Nothing has happened before or after. It was a blessing. He is my blessing. So when he pulled away, I couldn't help but say, "you are a fucking work of art, Alex."