Because of Her

by KE Payne

  “When are you coming to visit?” I nestled my mobile in the crook of my neck and pulled a book from the shelf.

  “Soon. I promise,” Amy said.

  I flicked through the book, uninterested, and placed it back in its slot.

  “So tell me more about Libby and Greg,” Amy continued.

  I shot a look over to the table where I’d left Libby, busy with her biology books.

  “They’re fun,” I said. “They make this place bearable.”

  “Met anyone else yet?”

  “No.” My answer was clipped.

  “It’s not the same up here without you,” Amy said. “Everything’s changed. I hate it.”

  “It won’t be forever.” I lowered my voice. “I promise.”

  My words died on my lips as I saw Eden in the aisle opposite, scanning the shelf for a particular book.

  How long had she been there?

  She pulled one out and skimmed through it. While Amy carried on talking, I watched as Eden bent her head slightly to read from it, making her hair fall softly across her eyes. Occasionally she’d run her hand through her hair, lifting it away from her face again.

  “…that’s what he reckons anyway.”

  “I’m sorry?” I turned to look out of the window, away from Eden.

  “Michael. He reckons…were you actually listening to me?”

  “Of course.”

  I turned back. Eden had gone.

  I drew in a deep breath. “I better go,” I said. “I’m in the library, getting looks. Fill me in on the rest of the story later?”

  “Skype tonight?”

  “You bet.”

  I returned to my table and pulled my notepad out in front of me.

  “So, remind me what a disaccharide is again,” Libby said, looking up as I sat down next to her.

  “Disaccharide?”

  Where was Eden?

  “Uh, it’s a type of carbohydrate, isn’t it?” My finger underlined something I’d written in that morning’s lesson.

  “Like sucrose and lactose and that type of stuff?” Libby frowned at her book.

  “Mm.”

  I bent over my book, cradling my head in the palm of my hand, and surreptitiously glanced around the library.

  “So what’s an oligosaccharide, then?” Libby’s face was creased in confusion. “Too many saccharides. I can’t cope.”

  “Well, according to my notes,” I said, flipping the page of my notebook, “an oligosaccharide is some sort of polymer.”

  “What’s a polymer?”

  “Lib, remind me why you’re taking biology again.”

  “I ask myself that every day.” Libby sighed, rubbing at her face. “Should have done English, then all I’d have to do is read sonnets all day rather than learn about bloody saccharides.”

  Finally I spotted Eden, by the door. She was leaving. Disappointment burned in my chest as she headed through the exit. Ignoring the voice in my head telling me I was being crazy, I thought if I left the library right at that moment, I might catch her up in the corridor. I imagined the scenario: It could be one of those moments like you see on the TV. A kind of Fancy seeing you again, isn’t that a coincidence? type of thing.

  Telling myself that if I had any sense at all, I’d resist going after Eden, I tried to replace her image in my head with one of Amy. I desperately wanted to kick-start the guilt complex I knew I ought to be feeling at my urge to follow Eden. But reason goes out of the window when all you want to do is get to know someone a little better.

  And what better time than when she was without Gabby and Beth?

  So despite all the voices urging me to not, under any circumstances, leave the library, I snapped my books shut. If I didn’t go now, I’d never catch her. I was Skyping Amy later, wasn’t I?

  “Gotta go,” I suddenly said to Libby, opening my bag and putting my notepad in. “Can’t concentrate up here.”

  Wasn’t that the truth?

  “Oh.” Libby looked up from her book and then glanced at her watch. “I’m gonna stay here for a bit. I’ve got sandwiches. See you in the lab after lunch?”

  “See you there.”

  Giving a cheery goodbye to Libby despite my thumping heart, I hurried from the library. Just in time, too—Eden was disappearing around the corner and heading towards the canteen.

  I kept a steady distance behind, not wanting her to think I was stalking her, but wanting to stay close enough to keep her in sight. If she turned and saw me? Well, I’d figure that one out if and when it happened.

  It didn’t.

  Finally we both reached the canteen and joined the queue, Eden being four places in front of me. I grabbed a tray, occasionally glancing towards her, hoping she’d spot me and ask me to join her for coffee. I tried to make myself look visible, like you do when you’re desperate for someone to notice you. I coughed a few times and scuffed my foot on the ground, looking around me, over to Eden and away again. It didn’t work, but it evidently pissed off the person in the queue in front of me, who frowned to himself at every cough and scuff.

  We shuffled on down the line. I watched as Eden chose a bottle of water, a panini, and an apple for herself, feeling pleased when the person in front of me suddenly left the queue, allowing me to get closer to Eden.

  One down, two to go.

  I turned my head a little and watched her through the corner of my eye as she asked the person serving to heat up her panini. Her profile was beautiful: lightly tanned skin framed by her fabulous dark hair, a perfectly straight nose dusted with freckles, and full lips, which curved upwards slightly, giving her a natural smile.

  I thought I could stare at her all day and never get bored.

  Just as I was watching her, she turned and saw me staring straight at her. We locked eyes for a moment, me too mesmerized to pull my attention away from her. She lifted her chin in recognition, then looked away again as the server asked her a question. My cheeks burned because she’d seen me gaping at her. What would she think? That I was like some freaking stalker, standing in a queue and blatantly staring right at her?

  We shuffled along the line a bit more, and I allowed myself another quick look at her, dropping my eyes instantly this time as she turned and finally spoke.

  “Hey! I didn’t see you there.”

  Chapter Five

  My heart hammered. I knew I should reply, but my voice box felt curiously squeezed, and I was worried that if I did try to speak, it would be nothing more than a squeak.

  Don’t just stare at her. Speak. You’ll be fine.

  “Hey, Eden. You all right?” A familiar voice sounded behind me, and I jumped slightly as an arm was suddenly flung casually around my shoulder. I swung round and saw Greg grinning over to Eden.

  “Not bad. You?”

  “Good, yeah.” Greg looked down at me. “All right, squirt?”

  “I didn’t know you knew her,” I said, indicating towards Eden.

  “Eden? Yeah, I know her.”

  Eden paid for her food and wandered off into the canteen. My heart sank. Another opportunity to try and talk to her, wasted.

  “I’ve been thinking.” Greg reached past me and opened the clear plastic cupboard in front of him. He pulled out a tired-looking egg sandwich, wrapped in cellophane.

  “Hit me, Einstein,” I said, reaching in as Greg held the door open for me to pick out my own sandwich, too.

  We shuffled further down the line.

  “We need some new members to join our fencing club or there’s a danger it’ll be dropped.” Greg turned to me. “Fancy it?”

  “Fencing?” I gave Greg a withering look. “Isn’t that a bit nerdy?”

  “What’s nerdy about fighting someone to the death with a sword?” Greg picked up his tray and walked over to the till.

  He handed the cashier some money then stepped away, waiting for me.

  “To the death?” I handed the cashier my money. “Sword?”

  “Okay…” Greg fell into step with me as
we made our way across the canteen to an empty table. “Maybe not to the death, but you do get to fight hard and dirty sometimes.”

  “And wear dumb clothes and have a sieve over your face,” I said, sitting down. “I don’t think so, thanks.”

  “Fencing is more than wearing dumb clothes, Tabby.” Greg huffed. “It’s about outwitting your opponent, it’s about one-on-one combat, it’s about—”

  “Fighting to the death?” I mumbled. I took a drink from my can.

  “Come on, it’ll be fun!” Greg said. “You look like you know how to handle a weapon. You’ll fit in straight away.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “We really do need new members, Tab. You’d be perfect.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “Really? Awesome!”

  “I only said I’d think about it.”

  “So I’ll put you down to come next Tuesday, then?”

  “Do I have any choice?”

  “Nope.”

  *

  “We’ve already learned that the cytoplasm contain enzymes for metabolic reactions together with sugars, salts, amino acids…” Mrs. Hamilton’s voice droned on in the background, like an irritated bee in a jar.

  It was Tuesday, last lesson of the day. Libby was slumped low in her chair next to me, chewing on the end of her pen. “I sometimes think,” she whispered, “that Mrs. Hamilton’s voice should be bottled and used as a cure for insomnia.” She stifled a yawn. “’Cos she’s sure as hell sending me off.”

  “Can’t be any worse than my philosophy class this morning,” I said. “We talked about repressive desublimation. At nine o’clock in the morning.” I looked at her, then back to the front of the class, trying to concentrate on what Mrs. Hamilton was saying. “This is a walk in the park in comparison.”

  “Do you sometimes just feel like giving it all up and going to live in a forest?” Libby pulled herself up straighter in her chair in an attempt to wake herself up. “Foraging for mushrooms all day and keeping chickens? It’s got to be better than this, hasn’t it?”

  “So, homework delivered to my office by four o’clock tomorrow, please.” Mrs. Hamilton snapped her laptop shut and stepped down from the desk at the front of the classroom.

  “Homework?” Libby looked aghast. “What homework?”

  “She just put it up on the whiteboard,” I said, closing my books. I glanced at her, seeing panic on her face. “I’ll text you the question later, okay?”

  “Glad one of us was concentrating.” Libby put the lid back on her pen with a loud snap. “I was busy in my forest, collecting mushrooms.”

  “Right, I’ve got to go,” I said, reaching down and grabbing my bag. “I’ve been roped into going to fencing class with Greg tonight.”

  “Fencing? You?”

  “Tell me about it,” I groaned.

  “Isn’t fencing supposed to be elegant and sophisticated? Graceful and poised?”

  “Yeah, you’re funny. You should be a comedian, you know that?” I stood.

  “Love you.” Libby grinned up at me.

  “Up yours.”

  “You around for coffee tomorrow morning?” Libby stood and walked to the door, stepping to one side to allow the swarm of students leaving the room to pass.

  “Should be, yeah.” I walked out into the corridor, my bag hitched up on my back.

  “Try to be nice to everyone tonight. No stabbing people when you realize you’re not cut out to be a swordswoman. Get it? Cut out? Swordswoman?” Libby called after me as I walked away.

  “Try being funny for once,” I said, sauntering down the corridor, one hand in my trouser pocket, the other lifting a middle finger to Libby as I turned the corner.

  “See you,” I heard her call to me.

  “Seeya.”

  Chapter Six

  I didn’t know anyone in the fencing group, of course.

  I stood looking around the gym, hoping to see a familiar face, and cursing Greg at the same time. Finally I spotted him over in the corner talking to some girl.

  “You came,” he called over to me when he saw me.

  “You said I didn’t have a choice, remember?”

  “Right, well let me go get you some protective clothing and a foil before I do anything else,” Greg said, beckoning me to follow him.

  I slung my bag down in the corner of the gym, along with everyone else’s bags, and meekly followed Greg. While I waited for him outside the kit room, I saw a few more people arrive, each of them looking like they knew exactly how to handle a fencing foil.

  I wondered for the hundredth time just what on earth I was doing there.

  “These should fit you.” A pile of white clothes flew out of the kit room and landed by my feet.

  “You’re a gent,” I said, reaching down to pick them up.

  “You don’t have to wear the whole lot today, just for practice.” Greg came out of the kit room, two foils under his arm. “Just wear the top and keep your sweats on for today’s lesson.”

  “So what have I got here?” I said, holding an item of clothing and screwing my face up.

  “Padded jacket.” Greg prodded the jacket with his foil. “But put this on under it. It’s an underarm protector. Stick it on under your jacket ’cos it’ll give you double protection on your sword arm side and upper arm.”

  “You think I’m going to get stabbed?”

  “You’ll need this, too,” Greg said, ignoring me and handing me a thick glove. “It’s got a gauntlet on it that’ll stop your opponent’s foil from going up your sleeve.”

  “Terrific,” I said. “Remind me why I’m doing this again?”

  I put the glove onto my hand and waggled it in Greg’s face.

  “Don’t worry, I won’t make you wear the breeches today,” Greg said, waving to someone as they came into the gym. “We’ll save that for another time.”

  I stopped waggling.

  “Breeches? You’re fucking kidding me, right?”

  “Matthew!” Greg called over to someone by the door. “Hang on, Tabs. I’ll be right back.”

  I stood, jacket, protector, and glove in my arms, and tried to picture myself in white breeches. Shaking the image from my head, I was just heading to the girls’ changing rooms when I saw her, standing over to the side of the gym.

  Eden.

  She was already dressed in her whites and talking with a small group of boys. I stopped in my tracks the moment I spotted her. She was standing with her back to me, but it was definitely her. I immediately recognized her hair, the curve of her waist, the way she was standing. When I finally caught the sound of her voice, drifting across the gym towards me, it was all I could do to try and calm the thudding of my pulse in my neck.

  Quit it, Tabs.

  I shook my head and, realizing I was still standing in the middle of the gym with a pile of white clothes in my arms, hurried towards the exit before she could see me. I didn’t know what to do. Should I stay? How could I let Eden see me in breeches one day, for God’s sake? I had legs like pipe cleaners at the best of times. I could only imagine what they’d look like in a pair of dumb, pristine white breeches when the time came to wear the stupid things.

  Breeches! For the love of…

  Nope, there was no way I was joining any idiotic fencing group now I knew she was in it, too. I would just have to…

  “Tabby! Over here.”

  I stopped dead, my clothes hanging limply in my arms. I turned slowly and saw Eden waving to me from the other side of the gym.

  “Hey!” I waved shyly, dropping my foil in the process.

  She came over to me. “It is Tabby, isn’t it?”

  “Mm-hmm.” I bent over to pick up my foil.

  “How’re you?” Eden asked.

  “Good. You?”

  “Good, yeah.”

  She stopped a few feet from me, looking hot in her fencing gear, her jacket clinging nicely to her top, a pair of scruffy, loose sweatpants sitting on her hips. I kept my eyes resolut
ely fixed on hers, probably making me look like a startled rabbit, but I knew if I wasn’t vigilant my eyes would start roaming over her body, taking in every bump and curve.

  “I didn’t know you were into this kind of thing,” she said, nodding her head towards my foil now tucked under my arm.

  “Greg talked me into it.” I laughed and looked around. “No Gabby or Beth?”

  “Nah,” Eden said tightly. “They think it’s nerdy.” She thought for a moment. “And they think I’m geeky enough as it is, so I don’t really tell them I come here, to be honest.”

  I remembered how I’d told Greg I’d thought fencing was nerdy and couldn’t help smiling.

  “What’s funny?”

  “Ah, nothing.” I turned away from her and gazed out across the gym. “When Greg first asked me to join, I think I might have said to him I thought it was nerdy.”

  “You want me to show you how nerdy I am?” she said, flexing her foil and raising an eyebrow.

  “Trust me”—I rolled my eyes—“you’d whup my arse. I’ve never done anything like this before.”

  “Really?” She cocked her head to one side. “I’d have thought you’d know how to look after yourself.”

  “Perhaps. But I also have two left feet, so I don’t think the grace and guile needed to fence is going to be my thing.”

  “We’ll see,” Eden said, looking at me for so long I was forced to break the gaze first.

  *

  “Right, so if you’d all like to gather round.” Rob, our instructor—a tall, muscular man drafted in from a fencing club from across the Thames—clapped his hands, immediately silencing the hubbub in the gym.

  I wandered over to the edge of the group, feeling embarrassed in my white jacket, my glove tucked into the waistband at the back of my sweatpants.

  I’d only put that on when it was absolutely necessary.

  “Welcome, everyone,” Rob greeted us, “and especially to our new members tonight.”

  Greg put his arm around me and pulled me closer to him, nearly making me topple over.

  “So, I want everyone to get themselves a partner. The more experienced ones here, please nab yourselves a novice.” Rob started walking amongst the group. “We’re going to practise parries and ripostes. So one of you will attack your opponent, while the other will defend it, then attack back. Clear?”