Complicated

chapter eleven

(cuz she iz awesome and if ur wondering why chapter eleven its cuz its my fave number:P)

It was finally, finally the last day of school.

      Mum dropped me off on the way to work at school, winding down the window to talk. “Have a nice day honey,”

      “Yeah,” added Connor. I scowled at him; it wasn’t fair that he didn’t have to go to school on the last day just so he could go and see his mum in hospital. Couldn’t he have gone tomorrow? “No grudges, right?”

      “Yeah, right.”

      “Come on Jen, be nice.”

      I waved goodbye to them and turned to face the school.

      It was just starting to rain; sparkling drops of water fell from the top of the buildings, splashing when they touched the grey pavement. Students dragged scooters and bikes to the bike shed and scurried to the safety of the canteen under umbrellas flapping in the air. Sixth formers hid in their cars, afraid of the cold outside. Teachers peeked through windows stained with droplets, watching a ghost school come to life.

      I joined the trickle of students heading inside, already dreading the rest of the day.

Running through the rain now cascading down on me, with my history folder held daintily over my head, I felt this day could not get worse. As if that car splashing me with a tidal wave of water on the way to science wasn’t enough, God decided I ought to do one thousand five hundred metres of track in the rain.

      In addition, I soaked my history homework so Mrs Grayson practically murdered me and gave me lunchtime detention (on the last day!), and now I was going to be late for double French.

      I flew into the classroom, panting with my hair dripping. I was met with a mocking silence, and a confused glare from Madame Noire.

      “Sorry I’m late Miss,” I panted, scanning the classroom for Aaron. But he wasn’t there . . . which confused me. Despite myself, I was suddenly upset that I wouldn’t be spending the whole of double French with him.

      “Would you, um, like to go to the toilet, Jennifer?” offered Madame Noire. She battled against a smile, and was clearly holding back fits of laughter. “To dry off?”

      “Yes please,” I said, feeling thoroughly embarrassed. As soon as I left the room, the class erupted into laughter as though I wasn’t just outside the door. I scowled and continued down the corridor, nearly bumping into Aaron.

      “Hey,” he smirked. I blushed.

      “Hi,” I muttered.

      “What are they laughing about?”

      “Me being soaked, I think.”

      “Oh,” There was a pause.

      “Where were you?” I asked uncomfortably.

      “Guitar lesson,” he smiled. “Your hair is a mess.”

      I scrambled to flatten it, smiling distractedly. Aaron smirked again and pushed past me into the classroom. I sniggered at his back.

Once I was dried off I stood in front of the mirror and combed my hair again and again and again, desperate to make it look somewhere near pretty. But my hair wouldn’t oblige, and simply puffed out every time I put it in a ponytail.

      “Fine!” I exclaimed eventually, tugging it out of the ponytail and leaving it down. As I said it, a year seven girl pushed through the door and gave me a funny look – as if talking to your hair wasn’t normal. Which I guess it wasn’t.

      By the time I got back to class, Aaron was in his usual spot, leaning back casually on his chair. Miss was lecturing the classroom on tenses, while the class talked, laughed, and exchanged jokes. Ruby waved to me from our table at the front, and I rushed to her side.

      “How did you get so wet?” she giggled.

      I forced my eyes to look at Ruby instead of Aaron. “My umbrella broke. Look what I did to my history folder!”

      I held it up. The corners were frayed and damp and the papers inside were blurred and still dripping a little.

      “Ouch,” agreed Ruby. The bell rang loudly, announcing the middle of our double class, and time for a break. Madame Noire sighed and rolled her eyes.

      “Five minutes break,” she said, but it didn’t make any difference because most of her French class was a break anyway.

      “Want some food?” offered Joel, grinning from the table beside ours. “I’ve got Starbursts.”

      I raised my eyebrows. Starbursts were my favourites. “Sour Starbursts?”

      “Yeah, I got one packet left,” he grinned. “Fifty pence.”

      “No way!”

      “Sorry babe, I gotta make a profit.”

      I decided to try negotiating, which should be interesting. “Thirty?”

      “Fifty.”

      “Thirty five.”

      “Fifty.”

      “Forty, then.”

      “Fifty.”

      “Forty five.”

      “Fifty.”

      “Oh, come on! Its just five pence!”

      “You know I’ve gotta sell four to make a profit? Fifty.” Joel laughed.

      “Forty six?”

      “Fifty.”

      “Forty eight!”

      “Fifty.”

      “Fine!” I gave in, deciding that I couldn’t negotiate to save my life. “You’re really good at negotiating.”

      “I know,” Joel winked as I took my purse from my bag and gave him a fifty pence coin. Joel gave me the Starbursts. “Nice selling with you.”

      I opened the packet and started eating, watching Aaron. Ruby tugged my arm. “Can we listen to your iPod?”

      “Yeah, sure.”

      Ruby got my iPod out of my bag and starting flicking through my songs, even though she knew they were no good at all. She gave me an earphone and put the other one in her own ear. Aaron glanced at us.

      Ruby started playing one of my favourite songs. Aaron started playing on Ollie’s iPhone.

I left French feeling deflated. How was I meant to know the past tense of regarder? And why ask me; I wasn’t the only one not listening! She never asks Aaron anything. She just doesn’t like me.

      I was walking behind Aaron, which was quite embarrassing. I’d been walking behind him since the languages stairs, and now I was following him out to the gates, though not on purpose. I remembered the chorus from the song Ruby had put on in the break: I’m not following you, walking this way too . . .

      I really wasn’t following him.

      Aaron waited at the gates for his brother, Daniel. That was uncomfortable too, because I had to wait for Mum to arrive and pick me up. When his brother arrived I felt a sudden urge to say something.

      “Happy Christmas Aaron!” burst from my mouth. He turned, and frowned, before replying.

      “Happy Christmas, Jenni.”

      He wished me happy Christmas! I can’t believe he wished me happy Christmas!