by K J Bell
The houses on Main Street really stood out. Built in the 19th century by a family of local artisans, they were dramatic and classically New England. Other than the houses, there was a small market, a hardware store and a café.
My stomach was in a knot, which constricted the closer I got to school. I really hated being the new girl.
“Shit!” I cursed, swerving when I saw a man standing in the road. My Pop Tart crashed into the front window, crumbling into the dash.
His dark stare was commanding, putting me on high alert. The car started to spin from the strain I put on the brakes, while turning the wheel. A rainbow of colors streaked around me, making it feel like the car was moving in slow motion. Jerking to a stop in the center of the narrow road facing the opposite direction, I clung fearfully to the steering wheel.
“What the hell are you doing in the street?” I screamed, peeking over the dash nervously. Glancing out of each window, I searched for him but he was gone.
Did I just imagine that? No, I knew it was real, so where the hell did he go? Oh no, did I hit him? Oh my God, I hit him. I must have. Even without proof, I was positive he must have broken down up ahead and was without his phone. He decided to walk to find help and I killed him.
Calm down, Claire. Don’t be so dramatic. Go check.
Pulling to the side of the road, my legs were shaking and I struggled to calm my breathing. I got out, checking the woods nearby to make sure he was all right. The brush was thickly covered in poison ivy. I decided against going into the woods to avoid days of itching. My fair skin was relentlessly unbiased when it came to contact with plant life. Once I brushed against poison oak while playing in the woods. The result was spending the next two weeks in bed covered in steroid cream trying not to claw my skin clean from my bones.
Resting against the car, I looked up and down the road but saw no one. My body was shaking violently and I tasted bile in my throat. I expected to see some poor man – lifeless – bleeding in piles of oak leaves and pine needles. I envisioned his poor family at the hospital waiting for news about his condition. They would be glaring at me with hate in their eyes – the freak everyone thought I was had hurt their loved one. But, there was no such sight, no injured man, not even road kill on the windy road.
Reaching for the car door, I decided I imagined the entire incident. Why could I still see those black eyes? As though he was penetrating my thoughts, his face was burned in my mind as clear as a piece of art hanging in front of me with his dark hair, strong jaw and large dimple in his chin. It struck me as odd how I had such a clear picture of him given how briefly I saw him. I must be crazy. Surely if someone was in the road, he didn’t just disappear. There was nowhere for him to go.
After collecting myself, I sat back in the old car, listening to my rapid heartbeat. Suddenly, I was overcome by worry, feeling as though something more was happening to me than an overactive imagination. A soft breeze rushed up my body. All of the hairs on my neck poised themselves towards my hairline. I stared out the window watching the trees for movement but they were motionless, frozen to the landscape. An eerie feeling came over me as I darted glances in every direction, positive I was being watched. I saw nothing more than forest and road.
“You really have to pull yourself together, Claire,” I murmured out loud. Great, now I was talking to myself.
Deciding it was best to brush off the strange occurrences of the last five minutes, I started the Buick, feeling that same rush of wind throughout my body. This time I was scared. Pulling away from the side of the road towards the school, fear tugged at how I rationalized what happened. I drove faster than usual, focusing my attention on my first day blues, hoping to overcome the incommodious feelings I was having.
Turning into the school parking lot, I smiled as I saw the sign to River Town High School. I drove past the sign a hundred times as a child. I realized how long I had been away as the red paint was now blanched. The wood post seemed to have been devoured by years of relentless weather. Only the large overgrown shrubs kept the sign from falling over.
“Today will be different,” I whispered, over and over, continuing my earlier mantra.
The school itself was older, seemingly smaller than I remembered it. The front building was obviously original. It was brick and had been patched with grey mortar in several places. A more modern building had been added on, protruding from the side with glass windows and green metal.
My previous school had been newly built and enormous compared to the superannuated structure in front of me. Having been terrified on my first day, I remembered being sure I would end up lost. Most of my classes happened to have been on the opposite side of the campus from where my locker had been assigned. I had kept everything in my backpack the first week so I wouldn’t be late for any classes. Smiling to myself, I exhaled with relief that this campus should be easier to navigate.
Driving around the crowded parking lot, I searched for an empty spot as the brigade of teachers and students made their way into the school, a sea of backpacks blurring my vision. After making a complete loop of the parking lot, I was unable to find a spot. I made my way across the street to overflow parking, locating a spot in the back near the woods, whipping in before it too, was taken.
Opening the door, I felt another rush of air across my body. Again, the trees were stagnant and the feeling of someone watching me returned. I glanced around, but other than two boys a few spaces away pulling backpacks from the trunk of a car, I saw no one.
Get a grip, Claire!
Anxiety was getting the best of me. I needed to get to class and get this over with. I was thankful Maggie already picked up my schedule. Having to pick it up from the office on the first day usually resulted in being assigned a buddy to show you around and I wasn’t quite ready to socialize.
Stepping out of the car, I dropped my brown bag lunch on the ground. My bottled water escaped the bag and rolled to the front of the car, wedging under the front tire. Perfect!
Kneeling to pick up the water, I was struck from the side and pinned to the ground. Every trace of air was forced from my lungs, and I fought to inhale. My face was smashed into pine needles, and a combination of dirt, dead bugs and leaves. Tiny granules of sand crunched between my teeth wreaking havoc on my already shot nerves.
Feeling someone on me, I twisted under the weight to see who attacked me. I opened my eyes, meeting his gaze. It was a boy, roughly my age, with dark brown hair, pouty lips and blue eyes that reminded me of a swimming pool. He was insanely attractive in a “bad boy meets geek”, sort of way. A plethora of inappropriate thoughts ran through my head as I examined him. I was unable to move. He regarded me intently, causing me to suddenly feel like I was naked.
What the hell just happened?
It felt like I was five years old again, having a staring contest, wondering which one of us would blink first. A swirl of butterflies in my stomach threatened to force this morning’s Pop Tart to make an appearance. Anger replaced all my feelings and I blinked twice, breaking the trance.
“What the fuck are you doing, get off me!” I belted out, pushing against his chest with my fist.
Usually, I was not the sailor mouth type, but was so surprised by what happened that it slipped out. My dad had always said swearing was for people with an inept vocabulary. I thought some situations deemed it necessary. Regardless of the fact I let the foul word slip, I probably would have used it anyway. Guilt coursed through me knowing my dad would be disappointed in my choice of wording no matter the situation. I held my lips together firmly, trying to hold in another string of obscenities just in case he was checking in on me from above.
The stranger was quick to his feet, offering his hand to help me up. Sassily, I ignored his offer, preferring to rise to my feet without his help. I brushed away the dirt from my clothing and felt him watching me. Still dazed, I gripped the hood of the Buick, biting the inside of my cheek, holding back blasphemous thoughts.
Real mature, Claire.
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Ignoring him, I reached for my water, tossing it along with my lunch into my backpack before slinging it over my shoulder.
Dropping his hand, he shrugged in response to my rudeness.
“Sorry,” he smiled apologetically.
God, he’s cute.
He ran his fingers threw his hair before speaking again and I was blatantly aware of the fact looking at him made me weak in the knees. “I really am sorry. I was running out of the woods to get to school and I didn’t even see you.”
“What are you, blind?” I snapped, not recognizing the brusque voice, although I know it came from my own mouth. Embarrassment crept up my cheeks and I grew increasingly flustered by his stare.
Did he just say he came through the woods?
“You came from there?” I questioned, pointing to the rural timberland in front of us, my voice calmer than before.
He let out an agreeable laugh and quirked a dark eyebrow at me.
“Yes, well, I was late, so I was cutting through the woods to save a little time,” he answered, his fine-looking smile crawling up the corners of his mouth. He tucked his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, his broad shoulders drawing forward a little.
I looked at him baffled, standing with my hip popped out to the side. Why anyone would choose that route to school? I would rather be late. The forest was thick and overgrown with ferns lining the floor, inhibiting a clear path. The morning dew had yet to dry. The sparkling foliate was beautiful to look at, shining like emeralds, but I wouldn’t want to walk through it. Not to mention, I knew the woods were packed full of various spiders and insects. The Northeast was by far the buggiest place I had ever lived. I made every effort to avoid the woods unless there was a clear trail to follow and I had a full can of bug spray. I tried not to cringe at the thought of doing so, scrunched my nose and shook my shoulders in a mock shiver.
Watching my reaction to the woods, he grinned in amusement. The smile on his face made me swoon. I actually swooned. Okay, I didn’t fall over or anything, but wow!
“I’m Brent Cassidy. I don’t think we’ve met before. Are you new here?” he asked, cutting off my mental scrutiny. He extended his hand to shake mine once again.
My voice was nowhere to be found but I took his hand this time. As I did, I was instantly stimulated, my blood igniting and the butterflies from earlier returning in my gut. I felt my face turn a bright shade of crimson and my lips pursed to the side.
What the hell was that?
I never felt anything like it in my life. Hearing heavy breathing, I grew more embarrassed when I realized it was my breathing, or was it panting? Oh my God. I was panting!
Speak you idiot. He asked you a question.
His head was tilted to the side and he watched me with polite interest while I attempted to string together a sentence, telling my brain to send it through my mouth. I finally spoke. “I’m Claire, and yes, you can say I’m new here, but I lived here as a kid.”
He grinned, suggesting recognition. “Oh, yes, Claire Blake, Maggie’s niece.”
“That’s me,” I agreed shyly, sure that he would run back to the woods piecing together the family I belonged to. He didn’t turn and run but he wasn’t speaking either. Insecurity crept into my thoughts but I felt I had nothing to lose by asking. “You know my aunt?”
“My parents do and I’ve met her before. She seems very nice.”
Well, I thought, he was still here and said Maggie was nice. Maybe he wasn’t scared of ghosts, I considered silently, trying not to laugh at my own twisted humor.
He released my hand that I hadn’t noticed he was still holding. I didn’t like the void I felt when he let go. When I started to take a step back, I stumbled.
“You know we’re going to be late for class if we don’t start walking soon,” he declared, flashing a wicked grin as he watched me trip over my own feet. “You can do that right? Walk and talk at the same time?” he jabbed.
I fumed, completely flabbergasted. Is he serious? He knocked me over and now acted as though I was uncoordinated. Of course, my anger was fueled a little by the fact it was sometimes difficult for me to manage both walking and doing anything else.
Are you crazy? Even you have to admit, he is way too cute to be mad at.
“Sure, we can walk,” I agreed. As we started towards the school, I tried to make conversation. “So, are you always running late for school?” I jabbed back cynically.
Grinning, he ignored my question. As he talked, familiarity filled my senses. His voice was smooth, like fingers over satin, stirring emotions inside of me. Did I know this boy, maybe when we were kids? It was a strange sensation, as if we-had-been-friends-our-whole-lives, kind of familiar. It wasn’t a have-I’ve-see-you-somewhere-before kind of memory, but something more. Feeling this way was making him all the more attractive and my mind was adrift trying to figure him out.
“Do I know you? I mean, have we met before?” I finally inquired, no longer able to ignore the familiar feeling sweeping through my body like a really bad case of déjà vu.
Stopping abruptly, his expression changed from soft to very serious.
“No, we have not met before and I’m quite sure you do not know me,” he protested, as though I had asked him something really awful. It was not like I asked if he was a serial killer. Given his reaction, maybe I should have.
His abruptness startled me and I felt the punch to my chest at the realization he probably didn’t want to associate himself as knowing the new girl from the weird family on the edge of town, even if he thought her aunt was nice.
Good one, Claire. Now, think of something to save the conversation before he bolts.
“Sorry, you just seem really familiar, but I’ve moved many times so perhaps you just remind me of someone.”
“Here we are,” he said, ignoring my apology.
Not wanting to push it, I stared though the front doors of the school to the scribble on lockers lining the sides of the hall. I took note of the courtyard. It was beautiful. A lush green garden surrounded several benches and a labeled plaque sat squarely in the front of the scene that read, Donated by the class of 1996. There were six hydrangea bushes blooming with brilliant blue colors that had been exquisitely taken care of over the years. I wanted to curl up on one of the benches with a book, pretending I didn’t have any classes to attend.
We entered the building together. Only a couple of students lingered in the halls.
Crap! I’m going to be late.
“What class do you have first?” Brent interrupted my thoughts. I briefly forgot he was there.
Really? How could you possibly forget?
I swallowed hard against the dryness in my mouth. He was looking down tracing circles on the cement with his foot.
Speak, you idiot.
“Umm, advanced chemistry,” I finally answered.
He lifted his head, his eyes locking with mine and I tried to ignore the heat pulsing through my body.
“Oh, that’s not the best way to start your day. Advanced, huh? ” he questioned, smiling his swoon-worthy smile as though he knew exactly the effect it had on me. My insides threatened to turn to mush. As much as I felt the urge to flee from him, and my suddenly new feelings, I also felt irreparably drawn to him.
Looking into his ultramarine eyes, I couldn’t shake the feeling we knew each other. I could stare into his eyes forever, lost in a sea of warm blue tranquility. Something about the way he looked at me was comforting and I wanted to spend more time with him. He flinched, releasing me from my stare. I had been caught.
“Well, I have gym,” he stated, gripping the strap on his backpack with one hand, readjusting it’s fit. With his other hand, he pointed down a long hall off the courtyard. “Chemistry is that way.”
Breathe, Claire, it’s just a boy.
“It was nice meeting you, Claire. Sorry about my introduction,” he said, reaching for my hair, startling me for a moment. Pulling his hand away, he produced a pine needle. “C
an’t have that in your hair all day,” he finished, tossing the needle at his side.
A soft breeze passed between us and I caught a whiff of his scent. It was an amazing mix of spice, powder and pine. Gazing at him, I inhaled a little longer than necessary, cataloging his scent to my memory. He noticed my stare and I bit my lip, suddenly feeling fire in my cheeks again.
“Ah, well… ugh, chemistry, I better get to it. Oh, no problem about your introduction. I’ll see you around, I guess,” I said casually, although deep down I was desperate to see him again.
“Sure, see you around,” he agreed with a huge grin, turning towards the gym.
I wanted to kick myself for not asking if we had any classes together. I hoped so. Watching him walk away, I found myself gawking at him, admiring the confidence in his step. He was definitely the whole package, his jeans hanging low enough that the waistband of his boxers was visible, but not sagging in a way that was obnoxious. As my eyes made their way up his frame, I made out the defined muscles through his shirt, my inappropriate thoughts returning.
Breathe, Claire, before you pass out.
“He’s way out of your league, girl,” I heard a voice from behind disrupting my ogling. I couldn’t decide if I was more irritated with the girl or my subconscious.
When Brent disappeared behind the doors, I turned at the waist to see a group of all too familiar girls. It was the same group as every other school I had attended. All of them were dressed similar in the latest fashion trends. Voluptuous is what boys would call them, wrapped up in skinny jeans, clinging to their curves. I refused to wear skinny jeans. My legs were sticks; no need to highlight that fact. Each of the girls adorned freshly highlighted hair from their pre-first-day-of-school beauty salon visits.
