The Far House

I know I'm not the prettiest of girls, but I'm not ugly either. I don't put much emphasis on appearance, more interested in good grades than good looks. That said, on Friday, I over heard Dawna, the prettiest girl in school, say to one of her friends: "I think Paula-Jane's a lovely girl, it's such a shame she's so plain."

Her words stung. It would've been easier to handle if Dawna were a complete bitch, but she isn't, I actually get on well with her. I pondered whether to confront her, but decided to drop it; as they say: 'the truth hurts.' I'll get over it.

I licked my wounds on the walk home, talking to myself as usual. There's no one around to hear my self-help talks; my house is remote, set deep in the Irish countryside. Which is why I was surprised to see a figure appear at the top of the hill in the distance. Surprise gave way to creeping anxiety. For the first time, I became acutely aware of the extreme isolation of my environment – and the potential dangers it could place me in.

My fears allayed as he came into view; a guy jogging: blonde, tanned, stunning. I know I said I wasn't into looks, but he was the best looking person I've ever seen in my life. He smiled at me, said, "Hi," and jogged on. Phew.

My Mother and Father had no idea who he could be, nor my younger brother. The handsome jogging stranger remained a beautiful mystery that weekend. 

I really don't like Mondays, especially when they start with double Maths and the teacher smells old. Dawna came rushing towards me, panicking as usual, "Paula-Jane, can you do my maths home..." I interrupted her, "Only if you call me Paula." I'd  decided to drop the 'Jane' from my name. The school tannoy distracted us: "Can all students please report to the hall immediately." Odd – we weren't due an assembly for two weeks. Dawna squealed excitedly, "Oh Paula, I hope old Mr Gower's dead." Typical Dawna – anything to skip double maths.

I hate the assembly smell: unwashed country boys and cow dung. Dawna's  hopes were dashed when old Mr Gower hobbled on stage along with the rest of our teaching crew. The Headmaster spoke, "We have a new student starting at our school today, an American boy. I'd like you all to make him feel welcome..." 

He'd be joining our class during the second Maths lesson.

"I hope he's cute," said Dawna. I had a feeling she wasn't going to be disappointed.

When Ryan Kirk walked through the door, double Maths took on a whole new meaning for Dawna; the first time I'd seen her take note of something in class. He beamed me the brightest smile and said, "Hi, you're the girl I met on the lane, it's nice to see you again." He sat next to me, while Dawna looked over with an open and envious mouth.

At the end of class, Dawna flew on Ryan like a bee on a jam pot. A swarm  of buzzing girls swooned round him, all vying for his attention. But Queen bee Dawna wasn't letting any one near her honey. I left them to it, went to the library to escape into Twilight for our fifteen minute break.

We were a small country school, Ryan's arrival provided a welcome piece of male glamour; I understood their reaction, but I was a little embarrassed by their lack of cool.

Unfortunately for Dawna she lives 8 miles from school, hence she takes the school bus. Her jaw dropped for a second time when Ryan called out after me as I passed the bus at the end of the day, "Hey Paula, wait for me, I'll walk home with ya." No – bright red – mega blush – I hate how my face burns up in these situations.

While we chatted I felt my face change from scarlet to its usual pale; its pallor in marked contrast to the golden caramel of Ryan's glowing complexion. He  seemed relieved to be away from the attention, "Jeez, that was a pretty full on day, they treated me like some kinda celebrity. I'm sure it'll settle down when they find out I'm just a regular guy."