[Transcend Time 04.0] Transcendence

by Michelle Madow

  Talking with her during class was a nice break from thinking about Drew, Chelsea, and Jeremy, but it was soon time for my final class of the day—trigonometry. I never found math interesting, but at least I shared it with Chelsea, which would reduce my boredom.

  The classroom contained five small clusters of desks seating four students each. Chelsea sat in the back with her books on the desk next to her, and she moved them over when I walked into the room. I sat down and pulled my notebook out of my bag, glad that the day was almost over.

  “You’ll never guess what happened in chemistry,” Chelsea said, tapping her pencil on her desk in excitement. Her eyes were wide and she leaned forward, looking like she was about to burst if she didn't tell me soon.

  “What happened?” I tried to look enthusiastic, despite how tired as I felt. “I hope you didn’t make something explode on the first day.”

  She rested her hands on her desk and took a deep breath in preparation to share the news. “I arranged it so I’m lab partners with Drew!” she squealed, a huge smile forming on her face. “Now we’ll be working together every day for the rest of the semester.”

  Disappointment flooded my body, and I sat back in my chair, somehow managing to force a smile so she wouldn’t get suspicious. “How’d you manage to do that?” I asked.

  “Easy,” she said with a smirk. “I sat next to him. When Mrs. Sullivan had us pick lab partners, I asked him to be mine. It’s not like he knew anyone else, but all the other girls were totally jealous.”

  “That’s great,” I said, trying to muster up some excitement. “Mr. Roberts assigned us partners in my genetics class.”

  Mr. Barton, one of the math teachers at the school, walked into the room to begin class before Chelsea could continue. I tried to focus on trigonometry for the entire fifty-five minutes, but it was impossible to shake the image of Chelsea and Drew working together in chemistry.

  At least she would be stuck wearing those huge goggles that left strange marks on people’s skin afterwards.

  The bell signaled the end of the longest first day of school ever, and I wanted nothing more than to go home and collapse on my bed from exhaustion. But since Jeremy drove me to school and he had soccer practice, I had some time to kill. The two-hour practice was at the same time for the varsity and JV teams, and I never minded going to the library to do my homework for the evening or read a book while I waited for him.

  I walked past the lines of computers and aisles of books until reaching the back room. It was my favorite place to do homework. There were a few beanbags scattered around the space, and a large glass window overlooked the lake behind the school. Most students gravitated towards the desks in the center of the library, and the peace and quiet in the back was nice compared to all the commotion of the day.

  I rummaged through my bag and searched for my planner, glancing at the short list of assignments and debating which to do first. I ultimately decided to read the first four chapters of Pride and Prejudice. I’d always wanted to read it, and it was one of the books my English class was reading for the semester.

  I opened the small paperback and turned to chapter one. The first line caught my attention: “It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.”

  My thoughts wandered to Drew. From what Chelsea had said earlier, he certainly was “in possession of good fortune,” and it probably wouldn’t be long until he had a girlfriend. Unfortunately, with the way things were going it seemed likely to be Chelsea.

  I finished the first four chapters in under an hour, and despite wanting to read more, I had other homework assignments to complete. I placed the book on the floor next to me and took my sketchbook out of my bag. There was no better time to start filling it up than the present. I opened it to the first page and placed the tip of my pencil on the blank paper, beginning to draw.

  The scenes from the book remained in my mind, and by the time 5:15 rolled by, I was staring at a half-completed sketch of a girl with long blonde hair in a high-waisted flowing ballgown from what I assumed was the early 1800’s. Long satin gloves traveled up to her elbows, and a headpiece adorned her curls. Her hair flowed all the way down her back, just how I imagined mine might look if I grew it longer. She looked into a mirror, and it appeared like she was preparing to attend a ball much like the one described in the chapters that I’d just read in the book. It looked and felt so familiar—almost like I’d drawn it from memory.

  I traced my fingers upon the image as I examined it, wondering what inspired me to draw someone who looked more like me than the main character, Lizzy. Her name was the same as mine—except for the slight variation of spelling—which could possibly explain why I merged us together, but I still couldn’t quite make sense of it. She was the only figure on the paper besides the mirror, and I lifted the pencil again, beginning to sketch the background so it didn't look like she was floating randomly on the page.

  More time must have passed than I realized, and the sound of the door opening interrupted my thoughts. I looked up to see Jeremy stride into the room. He still wore his brown gym shorts and white jersey with the number 12 on the back below his last name that was spelled in all capital letters. His hair was a little darker than its normal dark blonde because of sweat, and his cheeks were still red from practice.

  I dropped my pencil in the crease of my sketchbook, disappointed to have to stop mid-way through the drawing. “Did you get co-captain?” I asked, trying not to get irritated about being interrupted while sketching. I could always finish when I got home from school.

  “You bet I did!” he answered pumping his fist in the air in excitement. He walked over and joined me on the beanbag, slinging his arm around my shoulders. He was still sweaty, but I tried to ignore it as I rested my head on his chest, noticing that his arms were firmer than they were in the beginning of summer because of his intense workouts. “It was pretty much a given that I would get it,” he continued, "but it’s good knowing it’s official.”

  “That’s awesome, Jere,” I said, looking up at him and smiling to show him I meant it. In that moment, he was back to the same Jeremy I knew growing up. Excitable, fun, and relaxed, he looked down at me with those blue eyes that were as familiar as the back of my hand. “I had a feeling you would get it.”

  “Thanks, Liz.” He leaned closer and rested his forehead against mine, the sweat from his hair matting on my skin. The slight movement caused the pencil to roll out of the crease of my sketchbook, and it fell to the floor. “What're you drawing?” he asked, moving his hand down to the book in my lap. Despite knowing that I didn't like anyone seeing my drawings before they were completed, he grabbed it before I could respond and lifted it out of my reach.

  “You don’t want to look at that…” I pleaded, reaching forward to try getting it back. I was unsuccessful. “It’s not even close to finished yet.”

  He ignored me and pulled it closer, examining the sketch. “This is different from your other stuff,” he said, squinting as he looked at it.

  “Different how?” I asked, even though I knew he was right.

  “You normally draw scenery.” He rotated the book in his hand, continuing to study the image. “Did you have some strange assignment to draw yourself in medieval clothes?”

  “It’s not medieval,” I said, a little harsher than necessary. “It’s what people wore in the early nineteenth century when Pride and Prejudice was written. It’s the first book we had to read in my English class.”

  “Weird.” He looked at me like I’d lost my mind and shut the book, handing it back to me before standing. “But anyway, what do you say we go to dinner to celebrate my victory?”

  Even though I was tired, I smiled in agreement, allowing him to pull me out of the chair. I wasn’t about to ruin his good day by whining about how terrible mine was, and my mom wouldn’t mind if I went to dinner with Jeremy instead of eating with her. Unlike some of the other kids my age, I’d neve
r been the type to get into trouble or make irrational decisions, so I was pretty much allowed to do what I wanted.

  I packed my books in my bag and decided that for Jeremy’s sake, I would pretend everything was the same as it had always been. It pretty much was, minus his recent attitude change and the new table at lunch. But it was impossible to deny the biggest change of them all—that no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t seem to get Drew Carmichael out of my head.

  However, judging from his actions today, I doubted he felt the same.

  CHAPTER 4

  Drew ignored me for the next two weeks. Although maybe “ignored” wasn’t the right term. Is it possible to ignore someone if you don’t know them in the first place? It’s not like one conversation meant we were friends. Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was going out of his way to avoid speaking to me. He always came to first period right before the late bell and sat as far as possible from Chelsea and me. It was the same in French class—he was always the last one there, rushing in before Mrs. Evans began the lesson. I lingered around Jeremy’s desk and talked with him before class, walking to my seat just before the bell to avoid any unnecessary interaction with Drew. Well, it was more like a lack of interaction, since he didn’t seem to notice my existence.

  When I did sit in my assigned seat next to him, my skin prickled like it was absorbing a radioactive force emitted from his body. There were times when I felt like he watched me out of the corner of his eye, especially when I stumbled over my words when Mrs. Evans called on me to answer a question. When I walked around school or ate with friends in the cafeteria, I could always tell when he was near, like I was tuned into a frequency that picked up waves in his presence. I tried telling myself it was nothing but a high school crush and I would get over it, but I knew my feelings for him weren’t something I could turn off like a light switch, no matter how hard I tried.

  * * *

  “In general, the quizzes were good,” Mrs. Evans spoke in French as she walked around the room, handing back the pop-quiz she’d sprung on us earlier that week. “The average was an A-, and most of you received grades in that range.”

  She looked at me for a second longer than the other students before placing my quiz facedown on my desk. Slowly lifting the corner of the paper, I peeked at the grade written on the top. A bright red D stared back at me, laughing at my near-failure.

  A slight movement on my right caught my attention, and I glanced over to catch Drew sneaking a quick look at my grade. I shoved the quiz into my bag so he couldn’t see it, but the sunlight from the window shined through the paper, making the red ink visible from the other side. No one else cared enough to try to peek at my grade, but the concerned look in Drew’s eyes let me know he’d seen it, and he turned his attention to the front of the room without saying anything. My cheeks flushed at the fact that he knew how poorly I’d done, and not wanting to be more embarrassed than I already was, I blinked away tears of frustration and prepared to focus on the lesson for the day.

  “As you know, the reading from last night discussed vacations,” Mrs. Evans began in French. “So let’s hear about some vacations you’ve been on and anything interesting you saw or learned.”

  Lindsay Newman, a girl I’d only spoken to a few times who sat in the middle of the room, started the conversation by talking about a recent trip she went on to Italy. Just like the other private schools in the area, admission to Beech Tree wasn’t cheap, and it wasn’t unusual for students to vacation out of the country. However, instead of listening to people discuss their vacations, I thought about the quiz, trying to calculate how much it would affect my final grade in the class.

  “Élisabeth.” Mrs. Evans disrupted my thoughts, causing me to jump a bit in my seat. “Have you ever taken a vacation to a foreign country and had an interesting experience while there?”

  I paused to translate the question in my head, catching the words “interesting,” “experience,” and “vacation.” There were a few words in the middle that I didn’t understand, but not wanting to embarrass myself by letting everyone know I wasn’t paying attention, I decided I got the gist of it enough to answer.

  “Two years ago I went to Hawaii.” I spoke quickly, wanting to get the focus away from myself as soon as possible. “We went on a helicopter ride and saw the volcanoes.”

  Mrs. Evans looked baffled, and a few students began laughing—Jeremy included.

  I looked around, confused. “What?” I asked in English, wondering what was so funny about helicopters and volcanoes.

  “Hawaii’s a state,” Jeremy said, not making an effort to contain his laughter.

  “Yeah,” I said, still unsure what the problem was. “I know.”

  “But you just said your vacation to a foreign country was to Hawaii.”

  A foreign country—those must have been the French words I didn’t understand enough to translate into English. The entire class looked at me like I was an idiot, and I glanced at Mrs. Evans for help only to find her laughing right along with them, although she tried to control herself when her eyes met mine.

  “I just didn’t know the French words for foreign country,” I explained, hoping everyone believed me.

  Jeremy laughed again. “Sure. Whatever you say.”

  I nearly threw my pencil at him in frustration. “I know Hawaii’s a state,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. “I just misunderstood the question.”

  He smirked in disbelief, and I knew I wouldn’t hear the end of this later. I was beginning to re-consider switching out of AP.

  When class ended, I left without waiting for Jeremy. It wasn’t long until he caught up with me.

  “You never told us how your trip to the foreign country of Hawaii was,” he said with a laugh, entertained by my embarrassment.

  “You know I didn’t actually think that.” I looked at him in annoyance, pleading for him to let it go. Arguing about this was stupid.

  “Sure you didn’t,” he drawled, leaning closer towards me. “Anyway, how’d you do on that quiz?”

  I took a step back. “I did fine,” I lied, not meeting his eyes.

  “I got an A-,” he jumped at the chance to brag about his grade. “But don’t worry too much about what you got. It was one quiz. It doesn’t matter that much.” He stopped in front of one of the English rooms for his next class, which was on the way to the science wing where I had genetics. “I’ll catch you at lunch,” he said, seeming to have already put the Hawaii incident behind him.

  I started to walk towards my next class, but didn’t get far before hearing someone calmly say my name.

  I recognized Drew’s voice before I turned around. He leaned against the cement wall, both hands inside the front pockets of his jacket. “I know you don’t think Hawaii’s a foreign country,” he said with a smirk, like he was proud of himself for being the only other person in the class who believed me.

  I stopped walking, confused about why he decided to talk to me after pretending that I didn’t exist for the past few weeks. “Really?” I asked, walking towards him and resting my hand against the wall. “Because everyone else seems to think I do.”

  “I believe you,” he repeated, standing close enough to me that I could see the small flecks of gold in his eyes, made darker by the lackluster lighting in the hall. I waited for him to say more, but he stared down at me, waiting for a response.

  “That makes you the only person who does.” I shrugged, glancing at the ground before looking back up at him.

  “I can help you with French,” he offered, catching me by surprise. “If you want.”

  I paused, wondering if I heard him correctly. “Thanks,” I said, playing with the strap of my bag. The offer was tempting, but Jeremy wouldn’t be happy if he found out I was spending time with Drew. “But I think I might just switch out of AP.”

  “Come on.” He leaned in closer, causing that whole electricity over my skin thing to happen again. “I know you’re smart. If you practice a little,
you’ll blow everyone away.”

  I tried to focus on the conversation and not on how there were only inches between us, positive that my heart was beating loud enough for him to hear. “I’m pretty hopeless in French,” I said, my voice steadier than I expected. “But if you want to try helping me, I’ll think about staying in the class.”

  “You’re not hopeless,” he said, his eyes softening as he spoke. He hadn’t looked at me that way since the first day of school. “And even though I probably shouldn’t help you, I will.”

  I looked at him in confusion. “What do you mean that you shouldn’t?”

  “Just that Jeremy might not be happy,” he said with a small smirk. “He seemed threatened when we talked on the first day of school. Not that I care about that, but I wouldn’t want to cause problems between the two of you.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “I don’t see Jeremy offering to help,” I pointed out, feeling bad about the words the moment I said them.

  “So,” he said, a mischievous smile forming on his face as he leaned closer towards me. “When are you up for the first study session?”

  We were standing so close that I could feel his breath on my cheek when he spoke, and I ran through my schedule in my mind. “Jeremy drives me to school on Fridays, so I’ll be in the back of the library tomorrow until he gets out of soccer practice,” I said, telling myself that there was nothing wrong with getting help outside of class. It wasn’t like we were going on a date. It was just a tutoring session.

  He looked at me quizzically. “You just wait around for him to drive you home?”

  “Just on the days when he doesn’t have workouts in the morning,” I said in defense. “It’s a good time to get homework done. Or to read.”

  “Whatever you say.” The halls started emptying and he glanced at his watch, which looked more expensive than anything the other students had at Beech Tree. “I know you probably want a break from school after what happened in French, but as much as I’m up for ditching my next class, I’m guessing that’s not your thing.”