A Life Less Average

four

poppy

I was surprised by how well the tutoring session had gone. Lewis knew what he was talking about and had a way of speaking that didn't make me feel like the complete moron that I was. He had taken me through my last test paper, and explained why my answers didn't reach the criteria that the examiners would be looking for.

I had sensed that he was nervous. Every now and then he was stumble over his words and I had caught him wiping his hands a couple of times, but I guess it was weird trying to teach your peers.

We had spent over an hour in the Sixth Form library. It was the longest I had spent in any library, never mind the one that was dedicated to my own personal studies. By the end of the session, I felt as though I had made some progress. I had some clarity with most of the answers on the paper, and it wasn't as stressful as I had originally thought.

While Lewis spoke, I couldn't help but notice his perfectly straight teeth, and the spot beneath his lips that he hadn't quite reached with the razor this morning. His thick, auburn hair was messy but in a cute way. And his jawline could cut glass.

I had spent an hour trying to figure out how we hadn't quite crossed paths during the years together at the school, only for it to become crystal clear when he picked up his backpack as we getting ready to leave. There was a patch stuck on the front with the school's football team logo. He was one of them. A jock. Full of pep and team spirit, amongst other things.

"Same time next week?" he said, as we stood up together.

Miss Jensen had scheduled another test for Thursday afternoon, which meant that next week we'd probably be going over another failed paper.

"Sure."

I tossed my used coffee cup into the recycle bin in the corner of the room, and started towards the door. Lewis stepped in beside me, his long legs taking long, slow strides beside my own.

"Any plans for this afternoon?" he asked, nonchalantly. His hands were tucked into the front pocket of his royal blue Champion hoodie. It fit him like a glove.

I shrugged. "I'm in the middle of re-watching The Vampire Diaries," I told him. "So probably just do that."

I kicked myself. This guy was a jock. He was probably captain of the football team, and probably worked out for fun. He was also one of the smartest guys in the school. Why the hell did I just tell him I was about to spend my night  swooning over fictional vampires?

"I've never seen it," he offered. "I'm more of a superhero movie kinda guy, though. I guess guys who sparkle don't really appeal to me."

"But guys in tights do?"

He laughed. "Okay, very good. I walked right into that one, didn't I?" 

We walked down the stairs together and when we reached the door, he held it open for me. I ducked through the frame outside, thankful that it had finally stopped raining and I didn't have to carry an umbrella.

He stayed beside me as we walked up the main driveway towards the front gates. The carpark was mostly empty and we were the only two outside.

Though it was no longer raining, the ground was still damp. Most of the puddles had dried up, but that hadn't stopped me wearing my thickest pair of Doc Martens that morning. I wasn't going to risk walking around with soggy Vans all day.

I was conscious of the heaviness of my footsteps next to his, even though I knew that was ridiculous.

"You're on the football team," I said, nodding to the patch on his bag.

"Oh, yeah. Striker," he said, nodding enthusiastically. "I use to be the goalie but I sucked."

"The only time I watch football is the World Cup," I told him. "I guess I'm not much of a sports person."

"Don't worry, I thought I was into music, but I have no idea who any of those bands are."

He was pointing to my backpack. I was so used to the metallic clunkiness of the outside of my bag, that I had forgotten it was littered with the pins of bands I loved.

"Oh yeah," I laughed. "It's like the one thing I collect."

"It's a cool collection."

"I have shoeboxes full of them at home," I admitted. "This is only the tip of the iceberg."

"I bet that's quite the sight," he said, chuckling. "Hoarding, but with pins."

"I'll have to show you them sometime," I said before my brain could register what it was saying.

What the hell was I doing? Inviting some guy to come round and look at the stupid collection of pins I had stored under my bed. Why the hell would that be of interest to anybody, never mind Lewis Fletcher, the football playing genius.

"Sounds like a plan."

I kicked myself. There was no way in hell that this guy was going to come round to my house. Not with the shrines to my more successful sisters hung around every corner, and my parents fussing about the place 24/7. Inside my house, I was a known failure. A lesser version of my sisters. The child who couldn't.

There was a reason that I never invited anybody back to mine. Only Faye had ever been round, and even then, she had only been round a handful of times over the years.

Outside my house, I was Poppy Jameson, the girl who didn't care that she didn't have her shit together. I was in control of how people perceived me, if they perceived me at all. I tried to stay under the radar. I was quiet in class. I didn't take part in any extracurricular activities. I was just average enough to get through school without drawing attention to my grades, good or bad. Or at least I had been before Miss Jensen had started grading my papers with Ds or Es.

We reached the school gates and I hesitated, kicking my feet softly against the wet pavement as we stood opposite each other.

He was easily six inches taller than me, even in my Docs with their thick soles. He nodded his head slightly, his auburn hair flopping over his forehead. Even in the dull, grey light, his eyes were bright. Green, I think. Or maybe blue. I tried not to stare.

"I'm this way." He hitched his thumb over his shoulder.

"This way," I said, nodding in the opposite direction, thankful that we didn't have to walk in the same direction. I had already humiliated myself twice in the space of ten minutes, god knows what another ten would have brought about.

"I'll see you around."

The second he said it, I thought maybe not. We had gone six years without bumping into each other. I was almost sure that the next time I would see Lewis would be next Monday in the Sixth Form library. But to be polite I told him: "Sure. See you."

He didn't hesitate to turn around and start towards home, wherever home was. So I did the same. 

I spent the next twenty minutes replaying our conversation, wondering at what point I had thought it had been acceptable to mention Vampire Diaries and my pin collection. I came up dry each time. I resisted to urge to throw myself under an oncoming bus, deciding to turn down a side street towards a hidden coffee shop instead.

I needed a strong coffee in a warm corner so that I could figure out what exactly had happened to me, and when I would return to my usual self.