Lowell High School, San Francisco
Samlin Greenham
"A new kid is coming in our class." Emilia says, arranging some books in her locker. I don't know why, but she looks happy about something.
"Boy or girl?" I ask and close my locker. I have to change my shirt, because I ran for almost one hour and didn't go back to home, directly came to school. God, I'm still sweating.
"A boy." She replies, smiling and narrows her eyes. "And you're single."
I grimace. "And I am going to the bathroom." While passing her, I notice some CDs in her locker.
"M83, huh?" I pick one, frowning. "Jesus! It's a French band, Em!" I read the labels. Midnight city, we own the sky. And.....Summer love.
"They formed in France, but they sing English songs. They are in America now and they are pretty good," she explains.
I stare at her silently. I know M83.
But something seems missing. Isn't it Jake's favorite band?
"Who is the guy, Em?"
"Jake asked me out," she says calmly.
What? Wow.
Am I shocked?
Then suddenly it hits me. I was wrong. Jake doesn't want me. Gosh, I was so stupid. So wrong.
"That's nice," I tell Emilia after a few moments. "But I'm a little surprised."
She smiles. "At first he gave me these CDs. Then he asked me if I wanted to hang out with him. I was so shocked! Jake Sordino, can you imagine! I thought for a while that he liked you."
I don't tell her I thought that, too. She looks delighted, almost proud.
"I'm happy for you, blonde." I give her a quick pat at her shoulder, then head to the bathroom.
"Don't call me blonde!" She yells from behind, laughing.
"But you are!" I yell back.
I ignore the stares and whispers around me, closing the bathroom door with a thud. You'll know why they stare at me, if you can know about me.
They think, I am special. But I am not. Believe me, you'll know about me. Just wait and follow me.
I put my t-shirt down, my hands shaking. I try to ignore them and stare at my reflection in the mirror.
My hair color is dark brown and a vague hint of golden. My Dad used to say my eyes are ocean blue. A guy in my history class once said that I had perfect lips. Another guy said that I had a great body. They wanted to date me. And I dated few of them, too. But does that make me a whore? I don't know.
I brush my fingers in my forehead. Then my dark, thick eyelashes. The side of my nose. My lips. I run my hand at my neck, then across my collarbone.
Am I beautiful?
Honestly, I don't know. Maybe I'm not.
"You were wrong, Samlin Greenham." A voice inside my head suddenly whispers.
"Calm down, Sammy," another voice whispers. It's the voice I loved.
His voice is fading away.
My hands start shake again, my breath quickening. I can't control.
I have to do something.
"Goddammit!"
I punch the mirror with my fist. It shatters into thousand pieces. My reflection has shattered into thousand pieces, too. The mirror now looks to me like an art. And my bloody knuckles.
"I am sorry, Lynn. I can't promise you anymore, because you left me." I bite my lip to stop myself from crying.
I won't cry.
My sixth sense is suddenly alert. Somebody is watching me.
I spin around.
A guy is standing in front of the door, leaning against it. He wears a tight blue shirt, the sleeves folded. His black hair is ruffled and his hands are folded across his chest. The most amazing thing about him is his eyes.
They are dark green.
They are dangerous, beautiful and unreadable.
And they are watching me.
I quickly grab a black tops from my bag, tossing it over my head. Shit, he has seen me in my bra.
"What the hell are you doing here?" I ask him sharply, facing him.
He parts his lips slightly, but doesn't say anything. Just watching me.
My anger rises again. He acts like another Jake.
"I asked you a question!" I shout.
It has worked.
He flinches, his face hardened. "There is no need for yelling. I'm new here. I was just....walking around."
"You're from Canada doesn't mean you don't know English. Didn't you notice the 'Girls' board?"
He frowns lightly. "How did you know that I'm from Canada?"
"You have a sticker of your country's flag at your bag. Patriot, I see," I point out.
"Oh," he says. Seriously?
I examine his face for a while.
"Anyway," he points at my hand. "You are bleeding. Let me see."
He takes a step towards me.
I shake my head. "It's okay. I am late for my class. And you obviously don't wanna miss your first class. Go to class."
He slowly takes my hand into his, his expression soft.
"Just let me see."
I say nothing, gazing at him. He trails his fingers on my knuckles, holding my hand lightly.
There is something different about his touch. Or perhaps I haven't touched a boy since my last boyfriend. He washes my hand with water, brushing gently. I am watching the side of his face, which is clean shaved, smooth. His lips are hot, beautiful, full.
I look down at his hand, something catches my eye.
He has a long scar across the inside of his wrist. It seems like it was a deep scar, stabbed by knife. And it seems new.
What am I thinking now?
Stop staring. It's none of your problem.
"What is your name?" I ask.
"What?" he looks unsure, little puzzled.
"I asked your name. Do you know it?"
"Edwin." He replies. "I am in 12th grade."
"Oh, so you are the new kid."
"You heard about me?" He smiles.
God, this smile. Am I hallucinating or this smile actually is familiar to me? His voice, the way he talks, the way he smiles.....
I don't know. It seems familiar.
I pull my hand from his, scolding myself. "Let's go, Edwin. You are already ten minutes late in your first day." I pick up my bag and hurry to the classroom.
Why was I wasting my time with him? I got worse bruise before. Physical pain doesn't matter to me.
I didn't even tell him my name.
He didn't want to know, either.
Does he know me?
What about that scar?
I clear this thoughts and enter into the class. The first thing which comes to my sight is Mrs. Sordino, who is wearing a hard expression, almost glaring.
"You're late, Ms. Greenham," she tells.
"Sorry, Mrs. Sordino," I mutter and take a seat beside Emilia.
"Where have you been?" she whispers.
"In the bathroom," I reply simply. I glance around and slightly feel happy. Jake's not here. And I don't wanna see him. I still can't tolerate that I was stupidly wrong.
"Students, today there is a new student to join with us." Mrs. Sordino declares, offering a giant fake grin. She points at Edwin, whose face is expressionless. "Edwin Vanidestine, from Canada."
Some girls start whispering.
" Oh my gosh, he's so hot."
"Look at those lips. And his muscles!"
"He's Canadian!"
But he doesn't say anything, quietly takes a seat behind me. I didn't look at him.
All whispers stop.
"Who transfer in their senior year from Canada to San Francisco?" Emilia mumbles, casting a sneaking glance at Edwin.
"I just did," Edwin says sharply.
Emilia turns, didn't know he was hearing.
"Sorry," she gulps.
I remove some locks of hair from my face, focusing at Mrs. Sordino. She is explaining why Tess killed Alec d'Urberville. She is telling with such enthusiasm as if she were there with Tess.
She's not so bad, you know. She just thinks I'm a bad influence for his son.
Maybe I am.
But I'm waiting when the class will be end. I have my swimming practice today.
Another thing about me.
I'm a swimmer.
I am also a runner.
I usually do freestyle and breaststroke, but I can do butterfly and backstroke too. I have the highest record in our swimming team. I have been in swimming team since sixth grade. Well, I 'm not gonna tell you how many ribbons and medals I achieved.
But I'm a good swimmer.
I can't deny that I have some problems about my temper. I've always had.
Swimming calms me.
Water lessens my anger.
~
As soon as the class ends, I walk hurriedly to meet Coach Timley. I heard about a competition of five hundred meters freestyle. It will be organized by the city swimming department.
I know it's hard, but I'll try. But I need to find a long pool or lake or something like that to practice.
"Sam! Sam, wait!" a voice shouts behind me. I turn, seeing Edwin pace quickly. He stops, rubbing a hand at his neck.
I freeze. Somebody used to do that.
Lynn used to do that. When he talked, he used to rub the back of his neck. Often. I loved that expression of him.
Come on, Sam. Lynn is gone. Stop peeking at your painful memory.
"You walk so fast." He says, watching my expression. He looks confused.
What does he want?
I frown slightly. "I am an athlete."
"I know that. Look, don't get me wrong, but I Googled you. You are a high school celebrity or something like that." He smiles softly.
Celebrity, huh?
"Of course you did." I glance at my watch. Is it my 'you-are-always-late' day? I look up at Edwin, crossing my arms.
"So tell me, Mr. Vanidestine, what do you want from me?"
"I want to ask you a question."
He lowers his head to me, as you know, he's taller than me. He looks directly at my eyes.
What is he doing?
"Shoot." I scowl.
"Can we be friends?" he asks confidently.
My scowl deepens.
"You don't wanna be friends with me. I am strict. I am no fun. I am cold-hearted."
"Wow," he raises his eyebrows. "Never heard anyone before who can be straight about herself."
"What are you? Some kind of freak or something?"
He nods. "Yeah....maybe."
He seems tolerable.
I extend my hand. "Then you can obviously be my friend."
~
I didn't swim in the school pool. Because Coach Timley just gave me an address where I can practice for the four hundred meters freestyle competition! It's actually for the selection of the captain in our team.
"I haven't gone there for almost a year. It's a little lake," Coach Timley told me.
I wanted to ask if it was still there, but he shut me down.
"Trust me, it exists. Clean and beautiful. Just go, Greenham."
I can't recognize the place.
But I'm excited.
Now I am heading to the cafeteria, to let Emilia know that I'm going there. I don't think she'll want to go with me. Perhaps she's with Jake Sordino.
Something is coming to me.
To hit me.
I swiftly move to the left a feet, against the wall. And I catch the thing by my left hand.
It's a football.
Poor Michael. He doesn't have a single idea about my reflex. I turn around.
His eyes are widened by shock.
You may wonder who he is. He is my ex boyfriend, Michael Peterson. Actually I can't remember why I dated him. He was hansome, sexy, a good footballer and maybe a good kisser. Perhaps that's why I dated him.
You stupid player.
I quickly wear a seductive smile.
"Hey, Sam." He grins hopefully, stepping closer to me. He's gained a few pounds recently and he looks like a bear.
Hello, Bear.
"Oh sorry about that," he points at the ball in my hand. "I was just....playing. Um...you know, we have a match tonight."
"I didn't know." My smile broadens and I know what he's thinking.
"You should come, baby." He puts a hand on my shoulder, staring at me.
Baby.
What the hell, Sam?
"I'll try, Michael." I touch his hand.
He takes a deep breath. "Er...Sam, I was wondering.....that...sometimes we could...you know. Actually I have been thinking about... us....a lot. You know...." he's practically stuttering. He's a bit afraid of me.
Am I really a demon? Came from hell? Or maybe I have to ask my mother if I were really born in the earth.
I squeeze the ball, gulping to control myself.
"I know. We all made mistakes." I say.
I can feel his pulse is raising under my hand. He stares at my lips, his eyes darkening with lust. He is leaning so that I can smell his aventus.
"But I can't believe I dated a jerk for nine months," I finally shoot. I may forget why I dated him, but I haven't forgotten what he did to me.
He cheated on me.
He jerks, gazing at me with pure shock.
I squeeze his hand firmly and shove the ball in his hand. He moans with pain.
"Don't think, I forgot what you did with me. Have some self-awareness, okay? And yes, next time, you'll be careful with your effing football, otherwise I have to do something about you. Got it, Mikey?" I smile sweetly, finally let his hand go.
I again ignore the whispers and stares around me and enter into the cafeteria. I am a little hungry but I can eat later. I wasted enough time with that dick.
I find Emilia laughing and eating at the same time. With Jake. They are holding hands on the table.
Happy scene.
"Hello, Sam." He smiles hesitantly, putting his spoon down. Emilia reluctantly pulls her eyes from him to me.
Wow!
"Hey." I tell shortly, didn't elaborate. I look at her and say, "Em, I am gonna go to a place. So, sorry, I can't give you a ride after school. Jake, can you give her a ride?"
He nods, looking a little odd. "Yeah...sure."
"Where are you going?" Emilia asks.
"To a lake. And I don't know this lake." I am glancing around and catch Edwin in a corner, sitting alone.
"You're going to a lake? Why?" She frowns.
"To swim, silly. I don't want to lose my 'Captain' title. Bye!" After giving them a wave, I reach towards Edwin.
His expression sad. I know, it's not always easy for a new student who just moved from another country.
He is drawing something.
"Hey, Edwin." I take a seat beside him.
"You wanna see my drawing?" He covers the page with his thumb.
"No. But show me if you want." I reply.
He uncovers the page, straightening the sketch book.
Jesus Christ.
He drew Emilia and Jake. His eyes are opened and her eyes are closed.
They are kissing.
"It looks....real. You draw well, boy."
Edwin smiles, looking a bit shy. "Thanks."
My heart speeds up. His shyness. It's remembering me of someone.
No. I shake my head.
"You okay?" He softly asks.
"Yeah...I'm fine.So, why did you choose them as your drawing theme?" I raise an eyebrow.
"They looked happy and beautiful."
I glance at them. They are giggling.
"What about your girlfriend?"
"I don't have any," he shrugs.
"Anyway, do you know my friends, too?"
"I Googled them, too." He gives me an innocent smile.
"Of course, you did."
"What are you doing, Sam?" he grins weakly. "Here? With me?"
I glance down at my watch. It's late.
"Edwin, you wanna see something cool?"
His grin fades and he's searching my face for any idea. Then he grabs his bag.
"Hell, yeah!"
I laugh.