Authors: K J Bell
The stranger was quick to his feet, offering his hand to help me up. Sassily, I ignored his offer, preferring to rise to my feet without his help. I brushed away the dirt from my clothing and felt him watching me. Still dazed, I gripped the hood of the Buick, biting the inside of my cheek, holding back blasphemous thoughts.
Real mature, Claire
.
Ignoring him, I reached for my water, tossing it along with my lunch into my backpack before slinging it over my shoulder.
Dropping his hand, he shrugged in response to my rudeness.
“Sorry,” he smiled apologetically.
G
od, he’s cute
.
He ran his fingers threw his hair before speaking again and I was blatantly aware of the fact looking at him made me weak in the knees. “I really am sorry. I was running out of the woods to get to school and I didn’t even see you.”
“What are you, blind?” I snapped, not recognizing the brusque voice, although I know it came from my own mouth. Embarrassment crept up my cheeks and I grew increasingly flustered by his stare.
Did he just say he came through the woods?
“You came from there?” I questioned, pointing to the rural timberland in front of us, my voice calmer than before.
He let out an agreeable laugh and quirked a dark eyebrow at me.
“Yes, well, I was late, so I was cutting through the woods to save a little time,” he answered, his fine-looking smile crawling up the corners of his mouth. He tucked his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, his broad shoulders drawing forward a little.
I looked at him baffled, standing with my hip popped out to the side. Why anyone would choose that route to school? I would rather be late. The forest was thick and overgrown with ferns lining the floor, inhibiting a clear path. The morning dew had yet to dry. The sparkling foliate was beautiful to look at, shining like emeralds, but I wouldn’t want to walk through it. Not to mention, I knew the woods were packed full of various spiders and insects. The Northeast was by far the buggiest place I had ever lived. I made every effort to avoid the woods unless there was a clear trail to follow and I had a full can of bug spray. I tried not to cringe at the thought of doing so, scrunched my nose and shook my shoulders in a mock shiver.
Watching my reaction to the woods, he grinned in amusement. The smile on his face made me swoon. I actually swooned. Okay, I didn’t fall over or anything, but wow!
“I’m Brent Cassidy. I don’t think we’ve met before. Are you new here?” he asked, cutting off my mental scrutiny. He extended his hand to shake mine once again.
My voice was nowhere to be found but I took his hand this time. As I did, I was instantly stimulated, my blood igniting and the butterflies from earlier returning in my gut. I felt my face turn a bright shade of crimson and my lips pursed to the side.
What the hell was that?
I never felt anything like it in my life. Hearing heavy breathing, I grew more embarrassed when I realized it was my breathing, or was it panting? Oh my God. I was panting!
Speak you idiot. He asked you a question.
His head was tilted to the side and he watched me with polite interest while I attempted to string together a sentence, telling my brain to send it through my mouth. I finally spoke. “I’m Claire, and yes, you can say I’m new here, but I lived here as a kid.”
He grinned, suggesting recognition. “Oh, yes, Claire Blake, Maggie’s niece.”
“That’s me,” I agreed shyly, sure that he would run back to the woods piecing together the family I belonged to. He didn’t turn and run but he wasn’t speaking either. Insecurity crept into my thoughts but I felt I had nothing to lose by asking. “You know my aunt?”
“My parents do and I’ve met her before. She seems very nice.”
Well, I thought, he was still here and said Maggie was
nice
. Maybe he wasn’t scared of ghosts, I considered silently, trying not to laugh at my own twisted humor.
He released my hand that I hadn’t noticed he was still holding. I didn’t like the void I felt when he let go. When I started to take a step back, I stumbled.
“You know we’re going to be late for class if we don’t start walking soon,” he declared, flashing a wicked grin as he watched me trip over my own feet. “You can do that right? Walk and talk at the same time?” he jabbed.
I fumed, completely flabbergasted.
Is he serious?
He knocked me over and now acted as though I was uncoordinated. Of course, my anger was fueled a little by the fact it was sometimes difficult for me to manage both walking and doing anything else.
Are you crazy? Even you have to admit, he is way too cute to be mad at.
“Sure, we can walk,” I agreed. As we started towards the school, I tried to make conversation. “So, are you always running late for school?” I jabbed back cynically.
Grinning, he ignored my question. As he talked, familiarity filled my senses. His voice was smooth, like fingers over satin, stirring emotions inside of me. Did I know this boy, maybe when we were kids? It was a strange sensation, as if we-had-been-friends-our-whole-lives, kind of familiar. It wasn’t a have-I’ve-see-you-somewhere-before kind of memory, but something more. Feeling this way was making him all the more attractive and my mind was adrift trying to figure him out.
“Do I know you? I mean, have we met before?” I finally inquired, no longer able to ignore the familiar feeling sweeping through my body like a really bad case of déjà vu.
Stopping abruptly, his expression changed from soft to very serious.
“No, we have not met before and I’m quite sure you do not know me,” he protested, as though I had asked him something really awful. It was not like I asked if he was a serial killer. Given his reaction, maybe I should have.
His abruptness startled me and I felt the punch to my chest at the realization he probably didn’t want to associate himself as knowing the new girl from the weird family on the edge of town, even if he thought her aunt was
nice
.
Good one, Claire. Now, think of something to save the conversation before he bolts
.
“Sorry, you just seem really familiar, but I’ve moved many times so perhaps you just remind me of someone.”
“Here we are,” he said, ignoring my apology.
Not wanting to push it, I stared though the front doors of the school to the scribble on lockers lining the sides of the hall. I took note of the courtyard. It was beautiful. A lush green garden surrounded several benches and a labeled plaque sat squarely in the front of the scene that read,
Donated by the class
of 1996
. There were six hydrangea bushes blooming with brilliant blue colors that had been exquisitely taken care of over the years. I wanted to curl up on one of the benches with a book, pretending I didn’t have any classes to attend.
We entered the building together. Only a couple of students lingered in the halls.
Crap! I’m going to
be late
.
“What class do you have first?” Brent interrupted my thoughts. I briefly forgot he was there.
Really? How could you possibly forget?
I swallowed hard against the dryness in my mouth. He was looking down tracing circles on the cement with his foot.
S
peak, you idiot
.
“Umm, advanced chemistry,” I finally answered.
He lifted his head, his eyes locking with mine and I tried to ignore the heat pulsing through my body.
“Oh, that’s not the best way to start your day. Advanced, huh? ” he questioned, smiling his swoon-worthy smile as though he knew exactly the effect it had on me. My insides threatened to turn to mush. As much as I felt the urge to flee from him, and my suddenly new feelings, I also felt irreparably drawn to him.
Looking into his ultramarine eyes, I couldn’t shake the feeling we knew each other. I could stare into his eyes forever, lost in a sea of warm blue tranquility. Something about the way he looked at me was comforting and I wanted to spend more time with him. He flinched, releasing me from my stare. I had been caught.
“Well, I have gym,” he stated, gripping the strap on his backpack with one hand, readjusting it’s fit. With his other hand, he pointed down a long hall off the courtyard. “Chemistry is that way.”
Breathe, Claire, it’s just a boy.
“It was nice meeting you, Claire. Sorry about my introduction,” he said, reaching for my hair, startling me for a moment. Pulling his hand away, he produced a pine needle. “Can’t have that in your hair all day,” he finished, tossing the needle at his side.
A soft breeze passed between us and I caught a whiff of his scent. It was an amazing mix of spice, powder and pine. Gazing at him, I inhaled a little longer than necessary, cataloging his scent to my memory. He noticed my stare and I bit my lip, suddenly feeling fire in my cheeks again.
“Ah, well… ugh, chemistry, I better get to it. Oh, no problem about your introduction. I’ll see you around, I guess,” I said casually, although deep down I was desperate to see him again.
“Sure, see you around,” he agreed with a huge grin, turning towards the gym.
I wanted to kick myself for not asking if we had any classes together. I hoped so. Watching him walk away, I found myself gawking at him, admiring the confidence in his step. He was definitely the whole package, his jeans hanging low enough that the waistband of his boxers was visible, but not sagging in a way that was obnoxious. As my eyes made their way up his frame, I made out the defined muscles through his shirt, my inappropriate thoughts returning.
Breathe, Claire, before you pass out.
“He’s way out of your league, girl,” I heard a voice from behind disrupting my ogling. I couldn’t decide if I was more irritated with the girl or my subconscious.
When Brent disappeared behind the doors, I turned at the waist to see a group of all too familiar girls. It was the same group as every other school I had attended. All of them were dressed similar in the latest fashion trends. Voluptuous is what boys would call them, wrapped up in skinny jeans, clinging to their curves. I refused to wear skinny jeans. My legs were sticks; no need to highlight that fact. Each of the girls adorned freshly highlighted hair from their pre-first-day-of-school beauty salon visits.
Bowing my head, I gave them a sideways smile and headed down the hall towards chemistry. As I passed the group, I heard, “Hey, isn’t that the new girl in town, you know, the one that lives with Maggie Blake?” “Yes I think it is,” another girl answered. Number three chimed in. “They’re so strange. You know their house is haunted, right?” They all giggled in response.
Keeping my head down, I continued walking until the idle gossip was behind me and I no longer heard it. Seriously, if the house I was living in was haunted, I think I would have known.
Staring at the door to chemistry, I whispered to myself once more.
Today will be different.
CHAPTER 3
“A soul mate is someone to whom we feel profoundly connected, as though the communicating and communing that take place between us were not the product of intentional efforts, but rather a divine grace.”
– Thomas Moore
I
nhaling deeply, I opened the door and entered chemistry class, finding myself annoyed with Brent for making me late, as the class was now full and all eyes were on me. The rush of whispers infiltrated my ears and I did my best to hush them. I avoided looking up to the open-mouthed stares of the adolescents around me, quietly taking a seat in the back of the room.
When the whispers finally ceased, I mustered the courage to look up. As I did, a boy leaned over to me with his hand over his mouth in an attempt to stifle a laugh.
“Your backpack is leaking,” he announced, causing the class to erupt with laughter.
Looking down, I noticed a small puddle of water under my bag and a trail of water that followed me from the door. The water bottle must have sprung a leak when I dropped it.
Fan-freaking-tastic!
My thoughts of,
today will be different
quickly switched to,
today is going to be exactly the
same
.
Unzipping my pack to assess the damage, I felt like running from the class. This was too hard. Everything was soaked. As I attempted to retrieve my lunch, the brown paper bag disintegrated, sending my lunch falling from the bottom of the sack onto the floor.
“Lovely,” I declared, rolling the sarcasm off my lips.
“Paper towel?” I heard a male voice asking in front of me. I looked up seeing an older man smiling down at me, eyeing me from above his black rimmed spectacles. He was holding a roll of paper towels in front of him.
“Please,” I responded curtly.
“Might help if you put the lid on before you put it in your bag,” he said, making a joke out of my misery.
Now completely mortified, I looked at him and irritation washed over me.
Laughing, he added, “I’m only kidding Ms. Blake. Accidents do happen.”
Mr. Klein, according to what I read on my schedule, was about 50 years old, tall, and looked like one would expect the typical chemistry teacher to look like. He was thin, dressed in modest khakis and a pink, short sleeve, button-down shirt. I tried not to smile when I found myself checking to see if he was wearing a pocket protector. I smirked with humiliation and swiped the towels from his hand.
“You’re welcome,” he said, reminding me my manners had been absent. He addressed the class, ending our conversation. “Now students, if we can ignore a little spill and focus your attention on me, we have a lot to discuss today.”
Listening to him speak, I tried to dry out the inside of my bag. Once I managed to dry off what I could, I discarded the wet towels and returned to my seat.
Retaining anything Mr. Klein was saying proved to be difficult as my mind kept wandering to my eerie morning and awkward meeting with Brent. Why did he seem so familiar? Why was I so attracted to him? I had found other boys attractive before but never with the energy that I felt during my conversation with Brent. While lost in the thought, the bell rang, startling me from my reverie and reminding me my day had only just begun.