Model Student

by C. J. Washington

  My day follows this precisely until I get to my marketing class. The teacher is a real hard ass. He sets an assignment when we haven’t even learned anything yet. Not only that, we have to partner up for too. I hate shared assignments. The partnerships have been randomly picked, he assures us.

  I pray I won’t be paired with Sylvie, or any of her vapid cronies who are in this class as well. My name is called and I’m paired with Bow Stratton. I don’t recognise the name. I turn to look around for who it is and see a dark haired girl in the corner doing the same. I wait to catch her eye and motion with my chin for her to move by me. I’m a bit confused when she looks offended and pissed. I watch as she roughly scoops up her bag and books and starts towards me.

  I hope she’s smart because from what I can see from my seat, she doesn’t have much else going for her. She slumps into the chair next to me looking flustered. I wait for her to speak so I can figure out what kind of girl I’ll be dealing with. This was about the time that most girls start to blatantly flirt or shy away, making normal conversation impossible. Why couldn’t I have been paired with a guy?

  “I see being a gentleman isn’t your thing. Do you usually expect everyone to bend to your will?” I suppose I was pretty rude. I’m surprised by her snarky tone and the fact that she isn’t intimidated by me. She isn’t a local either. Californian, I’d guess.

  “Yeah, sorry about that. I wasn’t thinking. So, you’re Bow?”

  “That’s me. And you’re Asher Williams?”

  “Yeah. I guess the first thing we should do is swap numbers.”

  She looks panicked. “Why?”

  “So we can arrange when to meet up.”

  “Oh, okay then.” She reluctantly writes down her number on a scrap of paper torn from her notebook and I do the same. I am tempted to dial it straight away to check it is real, I’ve never had any girl hesitate in giving me her digits before. In fact, she doesn’t seem affected by me at all. It’s refreshing. Maybe she’s a lesbian.

  I take a quick look at the list of supplies we need to do this assignment. It’s going to be a bit pricey to do it right. We could do it cheaply but what would be the point? If we use decent materials everything looks better and more professional. I can pick up most of these things tomorrow. There’s no point in starting the project if we haven’t got what we need.

  “I haven’t got my car with me today so I’ll pick up some of this stuff tomorrow. You can pay me your half when you’ve got it.” I glance at her to see her sneering at me. What is with this girl?

  “I’ve got a better idea. I’ll go get them now and save you the hassle.”

  “No, I wanna be able to pick what we’ll be using.” I don’t want to be stuck with the shit she’d buy.

  “Then I guess you’d better come with me.” She shrugs, stands up and starts to walk away. I quickly catch her up.

  “I can’t. I’ve got football practise in an hour.”

  “That’s fine. I’ll have you back by then.”

  I roll my eyes. This chick is as stubborn as me. I kind of like it. I follow her to the parking lot and wait next to a beat up Volvo. She’s standing on the other side of it glaring at me.

  “We can’t go in that.”

  “Why, the fuck not? Make up your mind, woman!” Were we going, or not?

  “Because it’s not my car, Jackass!” What?

  I round the Volvo and stop in place, taken in by the majesty of the Mustang in front of me. It’s top of the line, fully loaded and every man’s dream car. This is her ride? I watch her climb in the driver’s side before I fully believe it. I’d think it was her Dad’s if it wasn’t for the special personalised licence plates with her name on. I quickly climb in the passenger side and sink into the luxury black leather seats. This baby was brand new.

  I was going to start asking her questions when I notice she is steadfastly ignoring me. She starts the engine with a push of a button and it purrs to life. It’s the best sound I’ve ever heard. She pulls out and we make our way to get the supplies. I want to swap seats with her desperately. She is driving it like it is any other car, not the high performance vehicle that it is.

  “I can’t believe this is your car.” I break the silence.

  “Yeah. I noticed.” It’s her turn to roll her eyes. I suppose I had jumped to conclusions earlier with the Volvo.

  “Well, why don’t you open her up a bit?”

  “For one, it’s a him not a her and his name is Moses. Secondly, it’s new and not broken in yet. My Uncle said to drive steady for the first few hundred miles.”

  “Yeah, steady. Not like an old woman!”

  “You might want to shut your mouth or I’ll leave you at the side of the road and you can walk to your precious practise.” She’s got me there.

  Bow doesn’t say anything or argue as I pick up what we need. I’m starting to feel kind of bad for all the assumptions I’d made about her. I was acting like the people I hate, judging her solely on her appearance. When we get back to the car, she pulls out the money for her half and drops in in my lap.

  I put my hand on hers to get her attention. An electric shock travels straight up my arm, leaving it feeling pleasantly tingly. I see by the alarm on her face that she must have felt it too. Taking the time to actually look at her properly, I notice that her face is really pretty and she doesn’t seem to have a scrap of make up on. She’s a natural beauty. It’s just a shame that the rest of her is such a mess. So far I’ve had more conversation with her than I’ve had with any other girl for a long time.

  “Look, Bow. I’m sorry for being an ass earlier. Can we start again?” She looks at me directly in the eyes for a few seconds before answering.

  “You seem sincere, so okay, but don’t push your luck. You’ve lost plenty of points with me today. I’ll drop you at the stadium now.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate that.”

  We don’t speak the rest of the way there yet it’s a comfortable silence. Bow pulls the car over in front of the players entrance to the stadium, right next to Colby, Tate and a few of my team mates. I can see them all admiring the car and wondering whose it is as the windows are blacked out.

  “Thanks again, I’ll see you tomorrow in class.”

  “Not a problem, Asher. Have a good practise. See you then.”

  I step out of the car to rambunctious yells from the guys watching. Shutting the door, I jump back in shock as Bow tears away from the curb like a Nascar driver, leaving smoke and tire tracks in her wake. She drives off so fast, she is out of sight before I can blink. When my wits return, I break down in fits of laughter. Yep, that girl is definitely different.

  Chapter five

  Bow

  I’m finally relaxed now that I’ve pulled up at Oddball after dropping Asher off. I decided to skip the gym after all. His presence just put me too on edge and I don’t know why. I can’t get a good read on him. I’ve always been proud of my ability to read people, just like my Dad, but he is puzzling. When I first saw him in class sat a few rows in front of me I was instantly attracted to him. His tall, muscled physique and square jaw is exactly my type, plus he’s got that bad boy swagger going on. I felt drawn to him and I’ve never experienced it that strongly before, I had every intention of ‘bumping’ into him after class. Then his name was called, he did that chin lift and I just wanted to punch him in the face.

  He’s majorly arrogant and rude, yet there’s something behind his chocolate brown eyes that I can’t dismiss or name, it makes him interesting. I can’t help but think that there’s more to him than he lets people see. When he touched my hand, I nearly jumped away. I felt his touch ripple through my entire body.

  I can’t stop my smile when I recall my small macho display when I dropped him off. I’m secretly proud that I saw his mouth drop open in my rear view mirror. Maybe he’d think twice before making assumptions next time. There was something else too, I didn’t want him to immediately forget me when he was with his team mates, I wanted to leave an i
mpression and I sure did that!

  My car door opens, halting my moment of reminiscing. Michael is stood smiling down at me.

  “Why you sat out here in your car, B?” I like that he gave me a nickname. I’ve never had one before.

  “Just thinking, Tiny.” I love Michael to pieces. I called him Tiny as a joke once and it stuck. He’s like the big brother I never had and kind of reminds me of Michael Clarke Duncan with his massive size and deep rumbly voice. He’s so sweet, funny, very protective and gives the best hugs. I loop my arm through his, “Come on, let’s go sit out the back and chill for a bit.”

  I adore this house. I have to keep reminding myself that I don’t own it when I sit dreaming of improving it. I keep imagining replacing the kitchen, getting a couple of new big couches and chairs for the family room so that we don’t have to squeeze onto the few bits of furniture that’s there. It could also do with new bathroom suites being fitted throughout.

  I don’t think anything has been modified since the house was built. Everything’s old and pretty worn out now but you can easily see how it used to be. This place would have been hip in the eighties. I try to tell myself it’s the designer in me and it partially is. For the most part though it’s because I just love being here and want to make our Oddball haven as great as it can be.

  I want to give back to everyone here, I could never have dreamed of feeling this content and safe anywhere but at home. I’m afraid my impulse to give back might be seen as something it’s not. The last thing I want to do is upset or annoy anyone. Maybe I need to find a way to do it without money, what’s sad is that I don’t know how. I know no one in the house is hurting for cash but I don’t want to flaunt my wealth and make everyone uncomfortable. My Dad used to say ‘just because you can, doesn’t mean you should.’ I’ve taken to writing all my Dad’s little pearls of wisdom down as I recall them.

  When we walk outside I see everyone is already home and had the same idea as me. I sit down on the steps and soak up the sun. Pepper hands me a cold glass of ice tea. When she makes it it’s perfect. My attempts weren’t very successful. I’d never tried it before moving here and now I’m a bit addicted.

  I wish I was comfortable enough to take my wig off out here. I can’t bring myself to do it though, it just feels too open. I wouldn’t be able to relax. A tall perimeter fence would be handy and man, I wish this place had a pool.

  “B.”

  “Yeah.”

  “If you want a pool just put one in, sugar.”

  “I didn’t know I’d said that out loud.” I can feel a deep blush spreading over my face. This is starting to become a regular thing now. How can you stop doing something that you don’t know you’re doing until you’ve done it? I’d better figure it out. God knows what trouble I could land myself in if this carries on.

  “You didn’t. I can just tell what you’re thinking.” Michael laughs and winks. Phew. “Wouldn’t mind one myself either. The college has got a great natatorium and leisure pool but it’s not the same as having one in your backyard. I have one at home and I use it all the time when I’m there. If I had the money to fix this place up, I’d do it, no questions asked. You wanna change something, just do it, B. I can see you’re itching to do something. As long as it ain’t pink and flowery you get my vote. We’re all gonna be living here for two years at least, you might as well have at it.” He totally gets me.

  “I’m with Michael.” Glen said and a chorus of ‘me too’ followed him. I’m giddy at the prospect and thrilled that they are on board. We all start talking and throwing out ideas. They got significantly better when I assured everyone multiple times not to worry about the cost and to think big. I don’t want to finish and wish we’d done it another way.

  Glen cuts in. “My one stipulation is that I get to design the security system. If this house is gonna be filled with expensive new shit, and from what we just discussed it will be, then add in a pool….we need to plan to secure it all properly.” Glen’s fired up now security is involved. I asked him his plans for the future not long after I moved in. He wants to be a professional hacker and programmer for the good guys. He’ll do it too, of that I have no doubt. “Also, the wiring throughout will have to be replaced to bring it up to date if it’s got to support all this new technology. Then there’s the plumbing to think about.”

  I am totally buzzed about this. “Well then, Glen, I think you just volunteered to be the project manager. We’ll run everything by you and you can tell us if it’s feasible or what else we’d have to change to make it happen. If it was left up to me, the house would look great but nothing in it would work.” It’s true. I’m good with aesthetics yet the practical workings of a house elude me.

  All of a sudden everyone gets very busy estimating measurements and talking about wiring choices and plumbing fixtures after I casually suggest something along the lines of high powered showers and Jacuzzi baths. I am repeatedly reminded that’s some things would need to be updated to cope with the changes we plan to make as my ideas started to border on outrageous.

  I start filtering out Glen and Anthony at this point of the conversation when they start discussing wiring and deciding to make the house ‘future proof’. At first I was listening intently, wondering what it all meant, until it started to sound like they were talking a different language that consists only of random letter combinations and numbers. I know when to bow out.

  My role in this was going to be cosmetic and I’m more than happy with that. I call Ralph and he arranges for the best construction engineer in the area to meet with us at the house tomorrow and best of all he said he would be coming too. When we get a start date I’ll move us into those big motor homes. That should be okay for a couple of weeks and I’ve always wanted to stay in one.

  I leave everyone to it and go to my bedroom. I want to make a list of everything we should cover in the first meeting. I know how precious Ralph’s time is and the fact that he’s coming to help means the world to me. I won’t let him down and waste his time by not being as prepared as possible. It’s a rush to think about all the changes we could make to this place, not just for us but for future Oddball residents. It’s a special place. I start imagining the meeting playing out in my head until my tired mind becomes fuzzy.

  ***

  When I woke up this morning, I almost bounced out of bed, I’m so looking forward to the day. It surprised me though that I was equally excited to see Asher as anything else. When I first saw him in class, before I knew who he was, I thought him to be one of the most striking men I’d ever seen and it had nothing to do with his mohawk or tattoos. Then, he spoke and some of that pull fell away. Who am I kidding? It didn’t. It may have faded for a bit but it was still very much there, otherwise I would have spent last night dreaming about renovations, not Asher.

  Despite what the tabloids perceive I’m not that experienced with men. Sure, I’ve been around a lot of them, naked and clothed, yet I’ve never really paid attention. I could admire them along with everybody else but once that were out of my sight I never recalled them in my mind; Asher had taken up residency. I lost my virginity in a haze of adrenalin after a runway show up against a wall with a male model thrusting like a jack hammer between my legs. It’s fair to say the experience was memorable and not for good reasons.

  I’ve indulged in a couple of relationships since but none lasted more than four months. The first, Peter was an up and coming actor, he wasn’t happy unless we were out in public, I quickly caught onto his game and let him go. He disappeared from the tabloids shortly after and never returned.

  The second was Ryan. He was sweet, thoughtful and I had high hopes for our relationship. However, he turned into a possessive, jealous monster after a couple of months. I hung around for a couple more hoping he’d get over it and adjust to dating a model but he just got worse and eventually he set a ultimatum; modelling or him. I wish I could at least say the decision was hard, it wasn’t.

  When I walk into marketing I quickl
y scan for Asher, he’s not here yet so I go and sit in my original seat from yesterday, smirking to myself on the way. It was going to be his turn to come to me. I sit trying to seem unaffected and relaxed. I’m probably not pulling it off, glancing at the door every few seconds is giving me away. So, I adapt and do what everybody else does; I pull out my phone and pretend to be in some thoroughly interesting texting conversation when really I’m looking at different kinds of kitchen faucets. It worked, the chair next to me squeaks and I look up in time to see Asher sitting himself beside me.

  “Hey, Bow.”

  “Hi, Asher. How was practise?”

  “Pretty good but not as entertaining as the time I spent before it.” He smirked. Is he flirting or taking the piss? “Got talking to the guys about your car, I think you’d have plenty of passengers if you had a mind to.” So not flirting.

  I feel my heart sink a bit. I suppose the beauty of this disguise is that whoever likes me, likes me for me, not some celebrity persona. Kind of sucks though when the first time I want to genuinely attract a guy and he looks straight through me to my car.

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “Don’t be giving my seat away, that front baby’s mine.” He smiles.

  “Don’t hold your breath, Asher. I’m not going to deny that seat action from someone who wants to give it.” I half laugh and start to blush when I realise how that sounded. Great, now he’s looking at me funny. Luckily, the teacher walks in at this point and I bury my embarrassment in taking copious notes.

  Asher

  Did I just hear that right? I take in Bow’s face to see if she was serious. By the blush spreading up her neck I’d say she wasn’t and I find I’m relieved. There’s something about her that I can’t put my finger on. She’s completely different from other chicks here. I mean she blushed for one. I can’t remember the last time I saw that happen to a girl. Most of them that I run into are way past the blushing stage. I pulled that car thing outta my ass earlier, I didn’t want her to think I was a freak and she would if she knew the truth, that I’d spent practise distracted by her, not her car.