by A. E. Murphy
Eloise, not seeming able to hold it in, almost face plants the table in a fit of giggles. Others join her as… what’s her name… starts pulling things from her bag.
I sigh gravely and head back to my desk. “Just one day,” I mutter to the gods above. “Just one bloody day of peace and ease.” Then I glare at the class as the sharp scent fills the room. “Somebody open an effing window then!” Everybody moves, but the open windows do little to rid the room of the vicious scent.
Everybody seems to be in better spirits now and the laughter from the far corner only proceeds to get louder.
“Could you take your crap out of my classroom please…” Shit, her fucking name?
“It’s Hayley,” a girl from the front, who I recognise as Shannon, tells me when she sees me struggling.
I nod my thanks. “Please Hayley. Go and bag it up.”
“But… my homework.” She waves a paper in the air and I take a step back. “Bring it back when it doesn’t smell like a florists. Thank you.”
She stomps towards the door, her bag full and clutched to her chest. Elle continues laughing and it only gets harder when her poor friend stumbles over a small black bin and falls face first into the door. Everybody winces. Eloise however starts laughing so hard no sound comes out.
“I’m okay, I’m fine,” Hayley announces, her voice high as she picks herself off the ground. The second she leaves the room, that’s when my class becomes uncontrollable.
“Eloise,” I call in an attempt to calm her. Her laughter is very soft and feminine and also very, very contagious. So contagious that, as the class laughs, I find myself struggling to keep it in too. Before long we’re all laughing at the memory of the poor girl who face planted the door.
Once everyone has calmed down and I’m in a better mood, I find that they listen to me and absorb more of what I’m saying. I’ve been too hard on them. I was young once. I forget that sometimes. Overall, I have a feeling this is a good start to a hopefully great year.
The second I get home I take that back. The arsehole next door has his stupid music louder than before. This is getting fucking ridiculous. I don’t call my landlord this time as I just don’t have the energy. Instead I take my work to my parents and enjoy a nice meal while poring through homework with my mum.
I feel bad for neglecting her, but it’s hard. She’s still well in herself and doesn’t seem to be suffering; it’s the moments when she slips that I can’t take.
She seems well enough now and is investing her time into helping me through a few things. History isn’t my strongest subject, but I know quite a bit from growing up with a history buff. Plus it’s all reading, which isn’t a huge difference from what I already do. I’m just thankful it’s not maths. I always did despise that subject.
Chapter Four
Eloise
I’m only two weeks into the school year and I’m already fed up. My friends are constantly out and having fun whilst I’m constantly working and studying. I am looking forward to tonight, though. We’re all going bowling and even though I despise the game, they do the best burger and chips in town.
It’s only an hour into first lesson, which is fortunately history. It’s not my favourite subject, but Mr Price is definitely good to look at and is by far my favourite teacher this year. I feel bad for him though. His looks haven’t gone unnoticed, particularly by my closest friend, Hayley, Shannon at the front of class and the year nine girls, who keep leaving him love notes and silly things to express their ‘love’.
It’s quite comical watching him grit his teeth and ball his hands into fists, but he still smiles charmingly at the girls who like him so as not to break their hearts. It’s sweet. He can be very sweet it seems, even though it is clearly irritating the crap out of him.
I wonder if he has a girlfriend. Shannon was talking to our group of friends in the food hall yesterday and I overheard her say that she’d seen Mr Price and Miss Hart having lunch together at The Hut, a quiet restaurant on the edge of town. That wouldn’t be fun to see. I like pretending he’s single; it makes for good daydreaming.
I’m only human. No female in her right mind wouldn’t be attracted to him, unless she prefers women. Plus he did save my life and something like that can cause a connection between the rescued and the rescuer.
Besides, he’s way too old for me anyway and I like Garrett, who is coming tonight. I cannot wait for that.
It’s not until his eyes connect with mine that I realise I’ve been staring at him. I’m the only person that isn’t looking at their work on their desk. Bugger.
His eyes linger on mine and I watch the dark blue darken further as his pupils seem to expand. My lips part and I inhale a short yet sharp breath. Flutters attack my stomach and my arms go numb with pins and needles.
I’m not even sure why we’re staring at each other. I can’t read his expression as it’s carefully blank. Or it is until his lower lids twitch slightly and his eyes seem to narrow a tiny amount, but enough for me to notice the change. I close my mouth and pull my lips in, before licking them with my tongue. They’ve become dry all of a sudden, so has my entire mouth.
“Mr Price, I was wondering if you could explain question six to me?”
And just like that the strange magnetism snaps and we both look away.
I’ve never felt anything so disturbing and wonderful in my entire life. It’s so strange it leaves me shaken until the end of class and I don’t finish anymore work; my mind is far too blank and my body too weak. Even my heart feels light, each pump seeming to be a flicker rather than the usual heavy beat of a heart. What on earth is wrong with me?
The second the bell rings, I grab my things, pile them into my bag and stand, pulling Hayley with me. Part of me is too embarrassed to look at Mr Price. He probably thinks I’m one of his weirdo stalkers, the way I was staring at him.
“Where’s the fire?” Hayley laughs, amused at my frantic need to get out of the classroom. “I was going to see if Mr Price needs an assistant,” she whines, pouting slightly as I drag her down the hall. “Hello? Earth to friend person.”
“I need your notes from class.”
We stop on the corner near the commons and she blinks, clearly confused at my demand. “Which class?”
“That class.”
“I knew it,” she giggles, pulling her bag from her shoulder. “You so day dream ditched. Were you picturing him naked?”
“Ewww, no!” I lie, because I think I did at some point. “He’s our teacher. Our ‘older than us by at least ten years’ teacher.”
“Now I know that’s a lie because I could have been talking about anybody!” She laughs harder, but I slap my hand over her mouth to silence her.
“Can I have your notes or not?”
“Let me think…” A smirk teases her lips as she taps her chin with her finger and guides her eyes to the ceiling. “No.”
“What? Why?”
“Umm… because everybody left them on their desks. They were for marking. They were questions, not notes.” She starts laughing once more, so I drag her around the corner out of earshot. “Everybody but you, that is.”
“Oh my god.” Why didn’t I pay attention?
“Yep. So now you’re going to have to explain why your work was the only one missing.”
I shake my head, refusing to be singled out by another teacher. “He’ll probably forget.” What if he asks me why I was staring at him? I’m old enough to know better!
“Are we getting lunch or not? Or are we eating yours in the commons?” Hayley asks, suddenly normal and no longer poking fun at me. Her attention span is worse than a freaking dog’s.
“This is mortifying.” I grumble, my face flaming.
“Chill out. Everybody slips at some point. I’m sure he’ll forgive you for it.”
It’s not the work I’m worried about; it’s everything else that happened to make me forget to work that I’m worried about. I’m not about to admit this out loud though, so instead I
put on a brave smile and respond, “You’re not eating my lunch. Buy your own.”
“Whatevs.” She shrugs and links her arm through mine. “Let’s be quick. I’m starving.”
Isaac
I down the last dregs of my water and shake my head to clear my throbbing brain. I have absolutely no idea what just happened and I’m not sure I want to know.
Her eyes were on me. I could feel them burning into me. When I looked, I immediately noticed the glassy look in her eyes from apparent day dreaming, but then they focused and held mine. The sun came through the window behind her and seemed to light an aura around her body, making her deep red hair glow and her green eyes shimmer and shine like beacons of light.
Her beauty is astounding. I shouldn’t notice. I know I shouldn’t, but it really is. Especially for someone at such a young age. If she were on a billboard with that lighting behind her, everybody would stop and stare.
Hell, they already do. The attention she receives from the opposite sex definitely hasn’t gone unnoticed by anybody. Some of the girls in class hate her for it. I’ve heard the mean things they say, yet she ignores it and takes it all in her stride. That shows a strong sense of independence and maturity in such a young female. She’s incredibly strong from what I can tell and that only makes her more appealing to be around.
Not to say that I’m physically attracted to her in any way. I just found myself being pulled in for a moment, something that I can’t recall has ever happened to me before.
When the hell did I become such a fantasist? I’m being moronic.
As I collect the papers from the desks, I notice only two missing: one from a student who wasn’t present in class and the other space belongs to Eloise.
Just great. Now I’m going to have to ask for it and explain my inappropriate staring if she asks. This is just perfect. Did she do this on purpose so we’d have to speak? She doesn’t seem the type.
If she does ask, I’ll pretend I don’t know what she’s talking about and tell her I was staring at something outside. Seems plausible considering we’re on the ground floor.
Why do I even care?
Why is this even worrying me? I’ve never acted inappropriately and that wasn’t inappropriate; it was a reaction to her action.
I finish collecting the papers and throw them on my desk before wasting my lunch on marking half of them. My life is entirely dull, especially in comparison to how it was in Cambridge.
“Mr Price?” One of my year nine students stands in the doorway, his hand gripping the handle, even though the door was never closed so he has no reason to be touching it.
“Problem?”
“Mr Price, your dad,” no shit. “He asked me to fetch you.”
My brows raise, why didn’t he just call me? Right… my phone’s in the bloody car. “Thanks.” He doesn’t make a move to leave. “Is there something else?”
“Umm…”
I start packing my things as he stammers and shuffles on the spot. “Go on.” I say impatiently, eager to get to my father so I can see what’s wrong.
“Casey Black wants to know if you need any help.”
“Oh.” I scratch my chin and think for a moment. Do I need a helper? “Not right now. Tell your friend thank you for the offer, maybe later in the school year.”
He smiles and races off, almost taking the door handle with him. Do I make my students that nervous?
“Sometimes.” I hear and almost curse at the distraction, but then I turn and see who the culprit is.
“Eloise.”
She nods and tilts her head slightly. “I came to apologise for forgetting to leave my work behind. It was a total mind melt moment.” Her smile is charming and sincere. I hold out my hand for her paper. She turns the second I snatch it, her green gaze guarded. “Bye, Mr Price.”
I watch her rush out the same way she entered. I guess she didn’t do it on purpose then.
I stand staring at the door, the paper in my hand and a frown on my face. I almost feel disappointed, but about what?
Shaking it off, I make my way to see my dad. I’m just hoping it’s not bad news about mum. She hasn’t exactly gotten worse faster than we’d expect, but she has her moments which are concerning and Dad has mentioned paying for an at home carer. It’s just not something he can afford alone and on my wages now, it’s not something I can afford to help him with the way I’d like.
I’m getting ahead of myself. I’m going to give myself an aneurism or an ulcer. It’s only two weeks into the school year and already I need a holiday.
Eloise
“Did you see Mr Price senior and junior race out of here, like five minutes ago?” Josie leans forward so our group can hear her better. We’re sat in A Level English class waiting for our teacher, who has yet to arrive. “They both literally ran straight past and out to their cars. What do you think that’s all about?”
“It’s Mrs Price probably. She’s sick,” Danny explains with a shrug. “Maybe she’s copped it. She’s been sick for a while now.”
“It’s Asperger’s or something.” Shannon puts in, flipping her braid over her shoulder.
I roll my eyes, feeling the urge to face palm. “It’s Alzheimer’s; she has Alzheimer’s. It’s a deterioration of the mind. Eventually she’ll forget everyone now and most likely only hold onto memories from her younger years. You guys are stupid.”
“Whoa, bitch alert.” Josie quirks her brow at me, her cute nose wrinkling slightly. “What’s gotten you all riled up?”
“Nothing. I just think it’s rude the way you’re all talking about her like she never meant anything to any of us. She’s been our teacher since we were eleven years old and she was fucking awesome at it.” I know I’m snarling, but still, it’s like they’re ten years younger than I am. We’ve all grown up together in the same town and in the same places, yet we’re all so different. Who are these people? “It’s sad. Maybe something bad happened.”
“Don’t people with Alzheimer’s wander off? Maybe she’s lost and they’re looking for her.” Shannon finally looks concerned. “Maybe we should find Mr Price and help him look? I bet I could get his number off the secretary if we told her what was happening.”
Blink. “Are you fucking serious right now?”
“What?” She jolts back, affronted.
“You’re using what could be a potential tragedy as a way to get your supposed future husband’s phone number?”
Josie places her hand on my wrist. “What’s gotten you all riled up?”
“It’s probably her period or summin’” Danny grunts around a mouthful of whatever the fuck he’s eating.
It’s Hayley who throws the first punch, nailing him in the arm with a mighty fist that causes him to yelp. Shannon and Josie soon join in and the conversation quickly changes to what an arsehole Danny is for being so insensitive. I feel like I just stepped back into year ten when the boys finally realised that girls get monthly periods and what the side effects are. It was a good year for girl power, but a bad year for boys being arse holes about it all. At least tampon jokes are a thing of the past. The boys seem past that now.
Besides, he wasn’t wrong but that’s not the reason I’m grouchy. Actually, I’m not too sure why I’m grouchy.
My phone alerts me to a text. It’s from Garrett and all of a sudden my bad mood is gone.
“Hayley,” I don’t look up from my phone, but I know she’s listening. “What time are we all meeting tonight?”
“I’m coming home with you.”
“So what time are we going bowling?”
“Five.”
I nod and text that time to Garrett and Riley. “Done. Where the hell is Mrs Thatcher?”
“Right here,” our teacher calls as she bustles through the doorway. “Sorry, sorry, I know I’m late.” And just like that our lesson begins. Great.
Isaac
My lungs contract painfully as my dad and I run to the house. The sight of an ambulance in the driveway sends a shock
wave through my body that makes my stomach flip with the need to vomit. Just as we reach the door, two paramedics pass us with my mother wrapped up and strapped to a gurney.
My dad lets out a choke of fear and sorrow. My hand finds his shoulder and the world blurs as we follow them to the ambulance.
“She’s okay, she’s just had a fall.” One of them explains. “I’m afraid, due to space issues, only one of you will be able to travel in the ambulance.”
I nod, unable to speak.
My dad turns to me, his eyes swollen and red with unshed tears. “Could you go in the ambulance with your mum? I’ll pack a few of her things and follow in the car.”
I don’t object. Instead I step into the back of the ambulance and take the seat beside my mother’s temporary bed. I take her hand, which seems to be vibrating it’s trembling that badly.
“Hey,” she mutters, her voice weak.
“Hey,” I mutter back, my voice mirroring hers. Using my fingertips, I push her hair back from her forehead. The paramedic pushes a cannula into the top of her hand. It’s standard procedure, but I want to punch him for causing her more pain. “Where did she fall?” I don’t look up. I keep my eyes on my mum, watching her face for any signs of distress, but she seems calm, just weak and tired.
“The bottom half of the stairway. She’s got a nasty bump to the back of the head, but I’m certain she’ll be just fine.”
“Just a concussion?”
He nods, checking her pulse and blood pressure. “Most likely. They’ll probably keep her in for a night or two, mostly because of her condition. They’ll want to know what caused the fall, if it was an accident or something linked to the Alzheimer’s.” He shines a light in my mum’s eyes and begins asking her a series of questions. Most of them I can’t answer and I hate the fact that I can’t do that for her.
