Authors: Kirsty Moseley
Zach slammed the door behind him, making it rattle on its
hinges as he gripped his hands in his hair, his whole body tight with anger as
he leant against the door, kicking it with the back of his heel. I didn’t know
what to say or do. What was there to say? He obviously didn’t get on with his
uncle, that much was glaringly obvious. The whole situation was really sad.
“You okay?” I asked quietly, touching his elbow tentatively.
“Just grab your stuff, I’m taking you home now,” he snapped,
shoving himself away from the wall and grabbing my schoolbag, throwing my books
and pens in there angrily.
“But we haven’t finished,” I protested.
“I don’t give a rat’s ass!” he growled. “I’m done. We’re
done.”
I frowned, stepping in front of the door, blocking it as he
stalked over to it again, obviously ready to leave. “Zach, look, I’m sorry that
happened, but we should finish studying. You were doing so well,” I encouraged.
His jaw tightened, his hard brown glare locked on me.
“What’s the point? He’s right, I’ll never graduate anyway. I’m just wasting
their money and your time.”
I gulped at his words. He sounded like he really believed
them; there was a defeated, resigned tone to his voice that was actually
painful. “Zach, of course you’ll graduate. I’ll help you. If they’re struggling
with money then I’ll just help you for free, how about that?” I suggested. I
didn’t really need the money anyway, extra cash was nice, but it wasn’t necessary,
I got an allowance from my parents anyway.
He snorted. “Oh yeah, way to make me feel more like a
freaking sponger!” he growled, reaching around me and grabbing the door handle.
I pressed my back against the door so he couldn’t open it.
“Stop snapping at me, I’ve done nothing wrong!” I cried, shoving on his chest
angrily, but he didn’t even move, it didn’t even make him step back because he
was obviously too strong for me to have any effect on. “I’m offering to help
you because you said you really wanted to try this time. You said that you want
to get this stuntman job, then go get it. Giving up is just going to confirm everything
he’s thinking; so graduate and prove him wrong!” I challenged, glaring at him
the same way he was glaring at me.
Silence lapsed over us as he obviously thought it through. I
could see the indecision on his face, I could also see a desire, he definitely
wanted that job, but the desire was almost entirely masked by anger. After an
uncomfortable minute of him just scowling at me, his shoulders seemed to
loosen, and he swallowed loudly. “You’re more of a fighter than I gave you
credit for,” he muttered.
A smile twitched at the corner of my mouth because I knew
I’d won. “Yeah, I guess practicing my bitchy comebacks on you is helping with
my confidence. I should thank you for that,” I joked.
He laughed, his eyes dropping to the floor as he chewed on
his bottom lip.
I reached down and took my schoolbag from his hand. “We
should finish up with that English assignment, and then maybe work on some
biology?” I suggested hopefully.
A frown lined his forehead but he nodded at the same time.
“Okay, but I don’t want you to do it for free. I have a job, I can pay you,” he
agreed.
I smiled because he was still willing to try, and headed
back over to the bed, not caring this time that I stood on all of his crap as I
marched across the room. “Whatever. Come on,” I replied, deciding that I would
get this boy to graduate if it was the last thing I did. I would love to see
the look on his uncle’s face when that happened. Zach trotted over to me,
plopping down, still looking sad and angry, but he picked up his book again,
flicking to the right page so we could finish up.
Dinner had to have been the most awkward time of my life,
ever. Olivia tried to lighten the mood by talking to me, and then would try to
bring Zach into the conversation too, but every time he opened his mouth and
said something, his uncle would grumble something incoherent or make a scoffing
sound. Even I wanted to punch him. I had no idea how Zach kept his temper the
whole dinner. The only good thing about it was the food. Zach was right, he did
cook pretty damn awesomely, I was definitely impressed.
After dinner we headed back to his room to get my things.
Zach grabbed a bottle of drink, a towel, a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. “What
you up to?” I asked, eyeing him curiously, wondering why he was packing a bag.
“Going to the training hall for a couple of hours. I go
every night, gets me out of here,” he replied, shrugging casually.
“Gonna do your traceur stuff?” I asked, proud of myself that
I got the word right.
He grinned and nodded. “Yeah.”
I debated asking if I could go and watch him. I’d never
really seen it properly, and that one move I did see of his was pretty crazy;
I’d like to see more of it. But I didn’t ask because he probably needed some
time on his own after the whole disastrous family meal thing we’d just endured.
Besides, I was going to watch on Friday anyway, because after school I was
going with him to meet with his team before we went to study. I was actually
pretty excited about that for some reason.
The drive home was just as thrilling as I expected it to be.
When he pulled up outside my house, he didn’t cut the engine. I gripped his
shoulders and climbed off; pulling off the helmet that he’d given me to wear
again. He smiled wickedly, so I quickly smoothed down my hair and rolled my
eyes.
“How come you brought me one of those to use anyway?” I
asked, handing the helmet back to him.
He shrugged. “You wanted one, so I got you one. I’m just
chivalrous like that,” he stated, smirking at me.
I rolled my eyes and shouldered my bag. “Well have fun doing
your Spider-Man thing,” I joked.
He grinned. “I will. And I’ll see you at school tomorrow,
little rebel,” he teased.
I frowned and slapped him in the arm. “We agreed to drop
that!”
He smirked at me and gunned the engine loudly, making a
cloud of black exhaust fumes billow around us. I stepped back, waving my hand
in front of my face and coughed dramatically for emphasis, which made him laugh
as he pulled out, speeding off down the street.
I smiled as I watched him drive away. When he was out of
sight, I headed into the house to find my mom in the kitchen just finishing up
washing the dishes after dinner. “Hey,” I greeted, dropping my bag onto the
side. She jumped and turned to smile at me warmly as I headed over to her side
and grabbed the dishtowel, drying up the stuff that was on the draining board.
“Hi. So how’d it go?” she asked, looking at me curiously.
I’d told her that I didn’t really want to tutor Zach, that he was annoying and
cocky. She’d told me to give him a chance; apparently she quite liked him from
the meeting yesterday.
I shrugged. “Okay I guess. We got a lot done.”
“That’s good,” she commented, passing me the last plate
before pulling out the plug and flicking the bubbles off of her hands. “You got
a delivery today. They came tonight. They’re calla lilies,” she said, nodding
behind me.
I frowned, turning to see a beautiful bunch of lilies
sitting on the side. My mom had already put them into one of her glass vases
for me, arranging them neatly. They were beautiful - but not the usual flowers
that Luke gave me. “Luke came here?” I asked. My stomach fluttered because he’d
gone to so much effort for me, I loved that he was trying so hard to win me
back. I still didn’t know how I felt about the whole thing, but him wanting me
so much made me feel special and needed. Maybe there was a chance for us after
all. Maybe I could try and move past this and remember how great it always felt
when we were together. I missed him dearly and I wished he was here right now
so I could throw my arms around his waist and clamp myself to him tightly, never
letting go. I really missed just knowing that he’d always be there when I
needed him.
She shook her head. “A delivery guy brought them,” she
answered. “They’re lovely, though I’m not really struck with his choice of
flower. White lilies are usually given at funerals and stuff,” Mom continued,
drying her hands on the towel I was holding.
“They are?” I headed over, smelling them, instantly smiling
because of their sweet aroma.
“Yep. Doesn’t he usually buy you daisies?” I nodded in
confirmation. “Well, maybe he wanted to spend a bit more to try and impress
you,” she suggested, shrugging.
I frowned, picking up the card that my mom had put on the
side next to the vase. “Maybe,” I agreed. “I’m gonna go put these in my room
and then I think I’m gonna soak in the tub for a while.” I really had some
thinking to do; my mind was already racing, planning out whether I should call
him and thank him, and what I should say. I picked up the heavy vase in one
hand, trying not to spill the water as I grabbed the card and my schoolbag and
headed up to my room, sniffing the blooms again as I walked, smiling to myself.
Once I was in my room I sat them on my dresser and turned my
attention to the card, wondering what he’d said in it. Secretly I was hoping
for some heartfelt apology, some beautiful words that would make the broken,
betrayed part of me just melt away so I could forgive him. This was probably
his apology for getting jealous and telling me what to do at the end of school
today.
I ripped open the envelope and pulled out the little card,
only to realise that they weren’t from Luke at all. My first thought was
disappointment, because I’d obviously assumed wrong and he wasn’t making a huge
effort to win me back. My second thought was anger. Tears of indignation stung
my eyes as I growled in frustration, throwing the card on the side. I ripped
the flowers from their vase and dropped them into the trashcan roughly, shoving
them down and breaking the stems on them, no longer finding them beautiful.
I was going to seriously murder Sandy. I picked up the card
from the side, not reading the single printed word on there that I’d already
seen scrawled several times in my notebook tonight. I ripped it into tiny
pieces and dropped it on top of the flowers, my jaw aching where I was
clenching my teeth so tightly together. Not only had she possibly drugged my
boyfriend, had sex with him, humiliated me in front of the whole school,
defiled my locker and notebook, but now the witch had sent me funeral flowers?
She really had gone too far, and tomorrow I was confronting her about it. All
thoughts of ‘violence solving nothing’ were gone from my mind now.
I’d woken in the morning all prepared to do this. The anger
was still boiling in the pit of my stomach; I’d been spurred on by the sight of
the broken flowers that now decorated the inside of the trashcan in my room.
But now that I was here though, now that I could see her laughing with her
little posse at the end of the hallway; my courage was fading fast, as was my
nerve.
I didn’t really like to make a scene, and confronting her in
front of the whole school, calling her out for being a vindictive little slut,
was definitely going to be a scene. I’d waved off my friends this morning,
making excuses of needing to speak to a teacher because I’d wanted this moment.
And now it was here, I was chickening out.
People lingered in the hallway like usual, leaning up
against the lockers, chatting about the events of the previous evening or
swapping tales of essays gone wrong. I couldn’t focus on it though; all I could
see was her with her blonde hair, shining like golden strands because of the
sun streaming in through the window behind her, lighting her up like she was
wearing a delicate sparkly halo. Why did everything about her have to be so
annoyingly perfect? Life was unfair.
Her tinkering little laugh rang out down the hallway as
people looked at her in awe as she stood there all high and mighty in her tiny
little shorts and shirt that left virtually nothing to the imagination. I tried
to force my feet to move, to close the thirty or so feet to her side so I could
plant my foot firmly on her ass. But nothing was happening, I wasn’t moving.
Self-loathing trickled down my spine as instead of walking to her side and
doing what I’d been planning on doing all night, I walked to my locker instead.
I punched in my combination, ignoring the clean patch from
the janitor scrubbing the word off that she’d scrawled there. Angrily, I shoved
my books in, taking out the ones I would need for my morning classes instead.
As I picked up my history book, a piece of red paper fell to the floor, landing
on my foot. I bent and grabbed it, frowning at it curiously. It was a red envelope;
a capital M was written on the side in elegant cursive, like it had been traced
from some old fashioned calligraphy set or something. Someone had obviously
pushed it through the slots of my locker.
I glanced around, but no one was paying the slightest bit of
attention to me as I ripped it open and pulled out the folded sheet of red
paper. Out fell a long white silky petal. I watched, entranced, as it floated
to the floor elegantly. I looked back at the note in my hand, not having a clue
who it was from. Words had been typed there using some sort of old fashioned
typewriter. The words made the hair on the back of my neck stand up on end.
‘Hope you enjoyed
my flowers last night.
You’ll pay soon.’
I stared at it, confused. You’ll pay soon? What the heck was
that about? Pay for what? Suddenly it hit me like a truck. I’d pay… this was
from Sandy again! I’d pay for embarrassing her at the party like I did last
weekend! My anger spiked immediately as I dropped my schoolbag at my feet, not
even bothering to shut my locker as I half marched, half ran up the hallway
towards her. When I got to her side I shoved her shoulder, making her squeal
and stumble forward a few steps into one of her friends, before she turned and
glared at me.