The Physics of Love

Chapter 22

I hate Mondays. I hate Sundays even more because they're further away from Fridays then Mondays are, but today is Monday, so today I hate Mondays more. I hate autumn too and it's mid November.

The crisp morning air feels like a razor on my skin. On those few uncovered patches, I mean. I'm wrapped in a long, black, hood equipped parka, old beige corduroy pants, which are supposed to be trendy again and nobody's happier about it than me, and timberlands, similar to those my dad wears to work, only red and small. I'm waterproofed, winterproofed and fully zipped up, but somehow it's never enough. I must have been a Bedouin in the previous life.

I'm late for school again, so I rush out through the gate, slamming it behind me. The bus won't wait, it's a public line. As I prepare to turn into Usain Bolt, I get startled by a honk from the car parked at the sidewalk on my left. It's a black Audi with tinted windows, a kind of car whose owners I don't know in person. I intend to ignore it and turn to my right, but it honks again. I stop and stare at it. My inspection doesn't really make sense since I can't see the driver's face and the registration number is certainly not the one I recognize.

This is a safe neighborhood and I'm standing right in front of my house, so I refuse to take fear into consideration. But what am I supposed to do?

The car starts moving and in no time it blocks my way. I'm about to bounce back and possibly scream, when a door opens and my favorite person at the moment turns up in front of me.

'You look like you need a ride,' Ted flashes a big smile. He holds the door open for me and, after I recover from the initial shock, I have no choice but to accept his offer.

'Aren't you, like, prosocial or something?' I ask while I'm settling into a leather seat and buckling up. 'Shouldn't you be going to school by bus like other, less...aristocratic kids?'

'I am prosocial,' Ted squeezes up next to me, even though there's plenty of room in the back. 'I make sure this guy makes a living every month.'

This guy, a dark haired and, I assume, tall man in a black suit stays silent and focused on the road, as if he's not the topic of our conversation. He's obviously trained to mind his own business and act invisible. I bet there's a school for rich people's staff or something.

'How was the boot camp?'

'Painful. I got home late and just crashed. Sorry I didn't call you.'

'Whatever...'

Ted is looking at me with a hidden sneer. Of course he knows I was checking my phone the whole evening, he just decided to let me off the hook this time.

'Damn...I hoped you would worry.'

'Nope. I'm all easy breezy.'

I'm afraid to look at him, so I'm staring at his shoes. They're black leather sneakers with fluorescent yellow shoelaces and stripes in the same color on the side. Besides this one flashy detail, he's dressed pretty casually, in black jeans, a plain t-shirt and an unbuttoned gray shirt draped on top of it. I don't see his favorite jacket, it's too hot in the car anyway, even I feel warm enough.

'Hey,' he pulls a strand of my hair gently. Then he rolls it around his finger with attention. 'I've missed you, blondie.'

Our eyes lock and I start melting from head to toe until I get soaked up by the leather seat underneath. This is real, right? He wouldn't say something like this if he didn't feel anything; he wouldn't apologize for not checking in last night if I was the new Stacey, right?

My mom says you never know what's in other people's heads. Sometimes they're saying things they don't mean, sometimes they don't even know why they're doing it. They get carried by the moment or whatever. People are weird...