by Lari Smythe
Chapter 8
I had a difficult time talking with Cathy before class. I was totally preoccupied, and just couldn't keep up with the conversation.
"See you in Art?" Cathy said.
"Sure, right, see you then."
Cathy sulked off with a dejected gait.
"Cathy?" I called after her.
"Yeah," she said whirling around to look back.
"I'll see you in Art."
"Yeah." Her voice perked up. "See ya." She turned and raced off to her morning class.
I continued down the hallway, not really paying much attention to where I was going. He must have intentionally parked next to my car—he seemed to be looking for me—but why, he's with Lisa. Why would he be looking for me? The only contact we'd had was in the cafeteria and that had to be totally humiliating. Then there was the whole poison ivy incident, the rumor mill probably had us sleeping together by now. I tried to focus, concentrate on my purpose, but I couldn't get him out of my thoughts. The harder I tried, the more hopeless it seemed. I glanced up. I was outside my first period class. Maybe I wasn't ready for this, for him—it had only been a few days—I needed to keep my distance—to give it some time.
"Excuse me, coming through." A strong pair of hands grabbed my shoulders and although they couldn't have actually moved me, I stepped to the side. Jason spun around me like a running back evading a tackle, and as he stepped in front of me, his hand brushed the base of my throat. He looked stunned as I'm sure I did. We stared at one another, not moving, then he slowly stepped back—our eyes not breaking their gaze. The second bell rang.
"Izzy," Miss Berkshire beckoned from the doorway.
I couldn't move—I dare not move.
"Nice shirt," Jason said, motioning toward the print on my shirt, "I saw them in L.A."
I cocked my head to the side, puzzled—still not breathing.
"The band, they're pretty good." Jason smiled and backed away. "See you at lunch." He turned and disappeared around the corner.
"Are you ready now?" Miss Berkshire asked.
I shook off the staggering daze before responding. "Sorry."
"I'm surprised, I thought—" she tried to scold, but her smile interrupted. "Well, let's try not to be late for class, shall we?"
I knew I was going to like Miss Berkshire. I'm not sure I heard anything she said the entire class though, I just couldn't concentrate on anything except for Jason's touch—I mean nothing really happened, but there was something, something I couldn't grasp, and it kept replaying over and over in my head. Melanie once told me that a current flowed between her and Nathan—was that it? There was definitely some kind of physical sensation that passed between us when he touched me. I unconsciously raked my hand across my neck. Jason's image was etched into my memory, from his California tan and dark brown eyes, to the devilish way he curled his lip before he turned away, even the blonde stubble that outlined his jaw. He was absolutely perfect in a not so perfect kind of way—gorgeous! I was brought back to reality as a low growl rolled in the back of my throat.
I half expected Jason to be waiting in the hallway after the bell. He wasn't there, so I quickly wove my way through the crowded hallway until I was safely in the Art room. Cathy arrived a few minutes later.
"Were you staring at the new boy this morning?" Cathy asked as she got out her supplies.
"You mean Jason?"
"Yeah, I think that's his name."
"No, not really," I lied, "I thought it was strange that he parked next to my car."
"Maybe not," her voice dropped to a whisper.
"What do you mean?"
"He asked about you, when you were out."
"Seriously?"
Cathy nodded. "I didn't answer. I don't talk to boys."
Mrs. Snyder came out of the supply room and started class. To the class' chagrin, the assignment was a self portrait. After all the groans and complaints, the class settled down to work, and Mrs. Snyder came over to our table.
"Cathy, I know you've done a self portrait before. I assume you have too?" she asked.
I nodded, not wanting to dwell on rendering my imperfections.
"Good," she continued. "I'd like to see you ladies do something a little different. I'm thinking a portrait that carries with it an emotion." She looked toward Cathy. "Lets try not to make it dark," she suggested.
Cathy's blush had little effect on me this time.
"The portrait can be male or female, young or old. I don't really care; but when I look at it, I want to feel something, anger, fear, love, laughter. Make it touch the viewer. Questions?"
We both shook our heads.
"Good, I look forward to seeing what you come up with." As she passed Andy's desk, she pointed to her eyes and then at him, letting him know she hadn't forgotten.
Cathy went straight to work, but I sat there staring at the blank sheet of paper in front of me—I had nothing. After a while, I glanced up toward the front of class. The still life had changed, but the draped chairs were the same—they were just draped chairs though.
"Still trying to figure out your mountains?" Cathy whispered. "You know, when I get stuck, I try sketching little pieces. Like if you were doing a landscape, maybe sketch a tree, a lake, maybe a barn, stuff like that. It kind'a gets the juices flowing."
"Thanks."
Cathy went back to her drawing, and I started doodling. After a few sketches, I tore off a new sheet of paper and started in earnest. Suddenly, the bell rang.
"Great class everyone," Mrs. Snyder said from the doorway. "You can put your drawings in your drawer, or take them with you if you'd like to work on them at home."
As the rest of the class made a mad dash for the door, I sat back to examine my sketch and gasped.
"What?" Cathy said, as I tried to cover my drawing. "Come on, it can't be that bad." She grabbed my hand to push it away and froze. The blood drained from her already frail face.
I'd touched humans before, although I tried to avoid it because it always led to flimsy excuses about my skin temperature, but I wasn't prepared for what happened with Cathy. It wasn't like the chemistry I experienced with Jason—no, this was painfully exposing. I yanked my hand back after just mere seconds to break whatever was happening.
Cathy recoiled away from me, knocking her stool to the floor. Tiny beads of sweat glistened on her frightened face—and her eyes, her pupils were so large they completely eclipsed the blue.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
Cathy didn't reply, but started slowly shaking her head from side to side. Mrs. Snyder showed up then, but as she approached, Cathy became hysterical.
"It's okay Cathy, nobody is going to hurt you," Mrs. Snyder said, before turning toward me. "Would you mind running up to the front office to get her mother, Mrs. Hall?"
"Sure. Is she okay?"
"She'll be fine, something must have frightened her. Please, can you hurry? Her mother has her medication."
Mrs. Hall's obese, human pace was excruciatingly slow. The whole time we were walking back, she kept digging in her purse and mumbling about a relapse. I stopped at the door as she continued into the Art room. Mrs. Snyder had Cathy in the chair next to her desk and was trying to get her to take a sip of water. Cathy glanced up, and the relief of seeing her mother quickly changed to terror when she saw me.
"Keep her away! Keep her away!" Cathy cowered behind raised arms.
"It's me, Cathy," her mother said as she reached her.
Mrs. Snyder looked up with a strange awareness. She'd realized Cathy's outburst was directed toward me. She only held my gaze for a moment before turning to Cathy's mom. "Do you need any help?"
"She's awfully agitated, what happened?"
"I don't know, we were just getting ready for lunch."
"Maybe it's her blood sugar," Mrs. Hall pondered.
Mrs. Snyder retrieved Cathy's lunch bag and brought it to her desk. "Do you want me to call an ambulance?"
"No. No. I don't think that will be ne
cessary—if she eats…" She trailed off.
I turned away as Mrs. Snyder approached. "Do you know what happened, Izzy?"
"No," I said to the floor. "We were just packing up and—" I flinched as she patted my arm.
She looked surprised by my reaction. "Don't worry, Cathy will be fine, she sometimes has—episodes. I'm sure she'll be fine. Why don't you run along before you miss the entire lunch period?"
As I started down the hall, the bell rang.
"Izzy," Mrs. Snyder called, "let me give you a note so you can get something—"
"That's okay, I'm not hungry." I escaped around the corner and plastered myself against the wall. What happened, I thought, staring down at my hand where Cathy had touched me? Did she see something? A shadow washed over me.
"I missed you at lunch."
"Jason," I mumbled.
"And you are?"
"Nobody," I said looking up for the first time.
His beautiful smile faded with concern. "What's wrong?"
"Something happened to Cathy."
"Do we need to go for help?"
Our eyes were locked onto one another again. "No," I offered in a hushed whisper.
"Are you sure?" His voice was almost as soft.
"She's with her mom and Mrs. Snyder."
"The art teacher."
"Yes."
"Then I'm sure she'll be fine. Can I walk you to class?"
"No!" I gasped using my last bit of breath.
"There you are," A familiar female voice called from behind Jason. "Walk me to class." Lisa wove her arm under his and tugged him away from me.
"See ya," Jason mouthed as Lisa led him away.
I took a moment to regroup and then followed a short distance behind. Lisa kept glaring over her shoulder. I shrugged—they were going the same way. Once we were around the corner, I was finally able to veer off into History.
"Hi, Mrs. Warner," I said digging into my history folder. "Here's my make-up work."
"So soon, I hope you didn't rush through it. We're going to have a quiz on the material next week."
"No, I'm good at history—well, I think I am."
Mrs. Warner smiled. "I guess we'll see next week."
I slipped down the aisle, taking my seat in the back of the class, behind the empty one from yesterday. As I bent down to retrieve my book, the bell rang.
"Welcome back, Jason," Mrs. Warner said, "you look much better."
There were faint giggles from the girls in class.
I slowly looked up to see Jason swaggering down the aisle toward me. He winked and took the empty seat in front of me.
"Are you kidding me?" I whispered in disbelief. This went beyond anything I'd anticipated.
"Jason, I'll have a makeup packet for you after class," Mrs. Warner called back to him.
"Yes ma'am."
His breath washed over me almost instantaneously as if he were facing me. I was so taken by surprise that I forgot everything I'd been practicing. It wasn't until then that I noticed the air vent on the wall behind me. Perfect, it was like being in the neck of a funnel, every scent in the room was going to go through me—I began to panic. My first thought was the creek—obviously impossible. Don't breathe—okay, unless Mrs. Warner called on me. Don't move—that I could do, so I concentrated all my energy on not moving. It worked. I maintained control. As class wore on, I found myself staring at the curls that caressed the nape of Jason's neck when he suddenly turned around. If I were human, I would have turned blood red.
"Homework?" he offered, waving a piece of paper.
"Right." I took the paper and he turned back toward the front of the class. My response triggered a spree of hushed giggles from the girls to Jason's right, giggles that fell silent when they noticed my piercing stare. The distraction broke my concentration, and I involuntarily took a slow controlled breath. I fought back the boiling thirst, but the tightness in my chest was another matter. The tentacles tightened relentlessly as if they were going to strangle me; but when I was about to lose control, it burst into a euphoric flutter, like a butterfly hatching from a cocoon. The bell rang sending the class into a frenzy of chaotic activity. I stopped the breath with a smile—I liked this new feeling.
"Feel like watching practice?" Jason was standing over me.
"Practice?"
"Football, I don't do much, just thought maybe—you don't have to—I guess it's weird, but—"
"No."
"No you don't want to come, or no it's not weird?"
"I'll be there." I reached for my book bag.
"Let me get that for you." He leaned forward, putting his throat next to my face.
I recoiled against the wall.
"Sorry." He gently set my book bag on the desk and backed away, hands raised in front of him. "Personal bubble, I get it."
"No, nothing like that, you just startled me, that's all." I was out of breath and dare not take another.
"Well, I'll see you later then." He smiled, flashing his perfect teeth and turned for the door. Lisa was waiting, her glare a sign she hadn't missed our exchange.
"You alright, Izzy?" Mrs. Warner asked as I passed her desk on the way out. "You were awfully quiet today."
"I was just distracted, that's all."
She smiled. "Don't let those other girls bother you."
"I won't."
"See you tomorrow then."
"Thanks, bye." I hurried across the school to Software Apps.
Coach Singleton was standing outside the classroom, and a line of students was forming. I got in line behind Joe, one of Derrick's cronies. I liked the class, and Coach Singleton was cool, but there were a lot of football players and that made me very uneasy. I finally got to Coach Singleton, and he handed me today's instructions.
"The boys behaving themselves?" he asked.
"I guess," I replied a bit apprehensively.
"I told 'em I wasn't going to put up with any nonsense this year. If they don't behave, they're off the team, no matter what it does to our chance for counties. I think they got the message."
"Thanks, but I can take care—"
"No ma'am, not after what they did two years ago." He shook his head in disgust. "You all can dress anyway you see fit as long as it fits within the school dress code. You friends with Cathy?"
"Yes, sir."
"Sir?" He laughed. "It's Coach."
"Okay, Coach."
He put his arm out to steer me toward the classroom and followed me inside. "How is she?"
"Fine. Well, I guess. I'm not really sure. She had some kind of relapse or something in Art today."
"Damn shame. Excuse my French. Just wish I would have known back then, so I could have done something." He shook his head again as he walked to the front of the class. "Alright people, I want you to take a look at the handout…"
I slid between the desks and took my seat.
