State of Grace (Complete)

Out

Ch. 18

 Starting school in grade nine after being away for a year is really hard, and it doesn't help that all my clothes are European. People there just seem to dress a lot nicer than they do here, or less casual or something. T-shirts aren't very common, and jeans are something that are only worn by the people who are doing it ironically or something. Mommy didn't want me to look too foreign when we were away, so any time I needed something new, I moved one step away from the real Grace and another step towards Mom's choice to remake my image after the famous boarding schools. I have enough blouses and pleated skirts to clothe the world.

"Look Chris, here comes our little lawyer." Ian belittles me as I walk up to the bus. It seems that any gains I made with Ian the other day are lost. I am wearing the most normal clothes I own, but they still aren't casual enough to fit in. All I want is one decent pair of jeans, but I don't have a single pair. Mom was brutal about clothes in Europe, I was her blank canvas which she threw clothes at, and if it was possible I was more lost than ever.

"Good God, Ian, she looks great and you know it. I'm sorry that you can't see Grace is the same under her fancy outfits, but it's not her fault that she doesn't have anything else to wear," Chris defends me, actually putting air quotes around fancy.

"Yeah, I wish I had a pair of jeans, but my mom wouldn't get me any and my dad was always too busy to care about my clothes," I explain.

"Oh, that's right, poor little girl dragged off to Europe comes back all worldly and fancy." his tone is cruel and cutting.

"Ian, I don't know what I did to you to make you hate me, but you seem to make me want to hate you back. You can push me away right now, as much as it hurts, but I'll always be your friend. So stop being an asshole." Standing up to him is easier since I have Chris to back me up.

"Fine, I'll just leave you two here to form a mutual admiration society. I, for one, am done." Ian puts his earbuds in and turns away. If he could stalk off, he would, but he would miss the bus, so his grand attempt to illustrate how angry he is falls flat and Chris and I laugh at him.

"Honestly, he's like the definition of teen angst at the moment, all moody and dickish," Chris informs me, "but the girls love it—tall, dark, handsome and lamenting. All Heathcliff-like."

"You know, I've been to the moors, they aren't romantic at all, just damp and gloomy. And Heathcliff was a freak who lusted after his childhood friend until it destroyed them all."

"Exactly," Chris says, giving me a knowing look.

His hint at Ian's behaviour towards me makes my heart beat faster, "Whatever, Chris, stop being a goof."

The bus comes and we all get on, Ian pointedly ignoring us.

"Chris, I'm really nervous. I know my clothes suck unless I'm looking for a job as a teenage accountant or something and I'm not going to fit in. What if everyone treats me like Ian does?"

"Don't worry, Gracie, I'll make sure they don't. I know who you are."

The first day of high school isn't quite as terrible as I'd been dreading, only partly. I know a few kids, at least one or two in each of my classes, and I eat lunch with Chris. True to his new persona, Ian slips outside to hang out at the edge of the parking lot with a group of brooding smokers, their anger proudly on display with their dark clothes and antagonistic stances. A few girls seem to latch on to his every words, giggling and touching his arm.

"Stare much?" Chris says pointedly. My face goes red.

"It's just that he's so different. I don't get it."