The Great Pretender

2: Hole in My Heart

Cherish could think of one benefit which arriving to school on the back of Harper's bicycle afforded her- no Ari to beat her into submission with hair ties and makeup. Then again, that was the only benefit and when Harper stopped pedaling, she dropped off the bike dramatically, hugging the ground in relief.  "I wish I had a car," Harper muttered moodily, rubbing his shoulder as he locked up his bike and then walked into the school.

"Well, I'm sorry!" Cherish replied, indignant, "but you are so the worst driver around! I wouldn't get into a car with you if you were in the passenger seat!"

"Ha. Ha." Scowling, he examined the bright red marks left on his shoulders, as a result of Cherish's death grip. "If you had tied up your hair, maybe I would have been able to see something!"

"Aww, does wittle Harper need someone to kiss his booboo better? I could go find Ari, if you want!"  Seeing the blush creep across his face, she laughed, evading the playful punch he threw in her direction.

But, it was Harper's turn to laugh when Cherish jumped right into the arms of a tall lanky guy with well coifed black hair, and consequently, Ian.  "Ian! Hey!"

Ian didn't look at them, nor did he reply to Harper's greeting, choosing instead to push forward as if they weren't there.

"What's up with him?" Harper curiously asked the tall guy, who only shrugged.

"See ya around, Harp," he drawled lazily and disappeared into the crowd.

"What'd you say to him yesterday?"

Cherish avoided the accusatory comment, and was slightly bothered that he thought she'd had something to do with it.  "He's very annoying," she rationalized more to herself than Harper.

"What did you say, Rish?"

Cherish pondered for some time, wondering what she should tell him. It wasn't like she was about to spit the truth out to him, that would be much too hard. Instead she took a deep breath, hardened her face and gave him the bluntest answer she could. "I told him not to talk to me because I'm here to learn, not to make friends."

Dumbstruck and gaping like a goldfish, Harper watched Cherish walk away and turn into their History class. When he finally entered the room, he stared at her in disbelief, "Seriously? You said that? You??"

Deliberately ignoring him, Cherish reached into her bag, pulling out a notebook and organizing her pens neatly along the top of the desk. Don't think about it, she warned herself, black pen, blue pen, red pen, now highlighters, blue, purple, pink, orange, yellow...

"You really said that to him? But I thought you would like him! He's just like Le-"

Cherish cut him off, suddenly angered, "Yes. I said that, and I was serious. If I wasn't already friends with you and Deals, I wouldn't be too interested in talking to you to either."

Taken aback and equally as angered as Cherish, Harper left her for a seat at the front of the class, his back stiff with aloofness. Cherish watched him with tears in her eyes; it hurt her just a little to watch him walk away. She was sure one day she would regret it, but for now she blinked the tears away and refused to deal with it all. No one knew why she'd moved here, no one but her father and mother, and now, in a way, some of the kids in her art class.

She had, in fact, liked Ian. She had, in fact, wanted to be his friend. Which was the exact reason she pushed him away. He was a carbon copy of the personality and spirit of her Len; her Len who was gone. Sucking in a shaky breath that threatened to tear her apart she gripped the edges of her desk and trained her eyes on her open textbook, willing her mind to focus on the words. She could do without friends- even without Harper, who had been somewhat a constant in her life- if she had to. Her sole mission right now was to finish school and get the hell out of Toronto.