"Yes, Mrs. Dalton. Everything is going amazingly."
She looked around in alert in case someone else needed to use the telephone. It was the brink of curfew but Mrs. Dalton insisted on conversing with her. Any slip in behavior from Charlie's part. She figured it came from a good place.
"Not having any trouble making friends are you?"
"No, no! Charlie and his friends are real gentlemen. I couldn't imagine having a more wonderful group."
"Good, good! Don't forget to call your own father. He must be worried seeing as your brother forgets where the phone is. And, stay safe Sigrid Taylor. I don't ask for much, tell Charlie I'll call him tomorrow!"
"I will. I will, Mrs. Dalton. The next time I see him."
"Call me next Thursday. I think it's best we keep in touch."
"I think so too, Mrs. Dalton," she heard the line go flat with an ear-teasing smile. Sighing, she placed the phone back slowly and took her notepad out of her purse to write down.
"So...how'd you meet my mother?" Charlie came up behind her, gripping her shoulders to look over her. She yelped, tearing the excruciating millisecond of silence she'd made for herself. The question that had been neglected up into this point was the only thing he could think of but he might as well have said anything else to startle her.
Sigrid licked her lips in thought, hesitant to just say well I bumped into her because my father's a jackass who thought I'd enjoy walking a couple miles, but instead said, "Did you know that we're neighbors?"
He raised his eyebrows in curiosity and shook his head, he moved on of his arms to grasp the back of her elbow. He led her away from the telephone distantly. Going up the stairs, she hid her notepad back in her leather purse.
"Well, we are. My house is the small one in front of yours that always looks like it has the lights off. My father's cheap so he doesn't like to pay for electricity, we use candles everywhere in the house."
"I thought the people that lived there were the Wacowski's?" He let go of her elbow and pushed her hand away playfully, she rolled her eyes and jogged a little, he could hear her saddle shoes lightly squeaking at the sudden pace. "I don't remember any Bambi's."
She punched his shoulder with a scowl, "You probably haven't even been to your own house since you got into Welton, unlike you rich boy, I had to go to public school most of my life."
"And you're still sensitive?" His laugh rang through her ears, it was an unfamiliar sound, his inner-child was enjoying every moment of harmless bullying. Sigrid found herself laughing, looking at the way Charlie's eyes creased at the sides.
Todd looked at Neil from the opposite side of the classroom as Mr. Keating had yet another lecture about what they had explored with their minds at the beginning of the week: Carpe Diem. And while Sigrid was right next to him in the individual tables adding the finishing touches to the drawing of a peach, Todd was chewing on his bottom lip imagining how sweet Neil smelled when he walked into the dorm room after a shower. Todd always finished showering before the other boys. His old school-bullied used to steal his clothes. At Welton. Showering was a mission nowadays.
That didn't stop him from smelling like lavender and a spring morning.
So he wondered how the droplets of water gently went down Neil's shoulders and how the towel wrapped him like a Greek god, one image after the other his lip got redder and he looked at the boy in front of the class hopelessly. Lovingly. And respectfully all at once.
Sigrid caught on to Todd's unsubtle attempts to sneak a peek at Neil and made a sound to catch his attention, the people around them were too invested in the lecture to pay them any exclusive attention, Todd turned to her only to see her already smiling widely. "Careful there, Anderson. I think I see some drool dripping down your chin. Someone you fancy nearby?"
She turned her head in the direction of where he was staring again, pretending to not have been distracting him from the lecture. "Oh shut it Hall, don't think I don't see the way you slide over your seat to sniff Charlie's hair," he whispered in response, for a quiet boy he was horrible at whispering.
The boys around him stifled a laugh at Todd's comment, Sigrid's nostrils flared in embarrassment. She raised her hand while thinking of an excuse to get out of class, she remembered the conversation she had with Mrs. Dalton in the morning and her foot was out of her table to run toward the door. Todd hissed at her to bring her hand down because he assumed she was going to tattle him. Or worse, ask to be moved and have all the boys interrogated for possibly saying something to her.
Mr. Keating stopped his lecture, slightly annoyed that he was being interrupted, but smiled away at his vexation and called on her with his pointer. Her hand slowly went down, "Sir, I truly apologize for interrupting but I've just remembered that I have an important presentation with Headmaster Nolan in fifteen minutes. I would've given you the note earlier, but again I'm quite forgetful."
Todd sighed in relief, sinking his head down as the rest of the boys in the classroom turned to stare at her. It was obvious that she hadn't gone to a boarding school before, most of them saw her as rude. Richard Cameron set his pencil with an agitated sigh and then turned to her as well, "Why are you wasting our time, Hall?"
Mr. Keating looked between them waiting for Sigrid to say something but she deliberately ignored the redhead, he smiled at her sense of maturity. "Yes, you may go. Would you like someone to escort you to the main room?"
She was about to protest when a hand in the front of the class shot up abruptly, she glared over at the person without particularly knowing who it was. Her eyes softened back into nonchalance when she noticed it was only Charlie, he wasn't all that bad as he made himself out to be. Sure, they weren't friends like Todd and Sigrid already were but he wasn't torturous to be around.
She stood up, shaky-legged from the fear of having such intense stares put down on her, Charlie looked at her worriedly as then walked up to her desk to ask if she was ok. He had one of his hands on her school bag and the other on her shoulder to keep her in place. "Living up to my nickname huh," she whispered under her breath and then tried to pack her things.
Mr. Keating looked between the two, then turned to his blackboard to write a fictional poem on his drawing of the Pritchard's chart. "On the Pritchard's chart, Sonnets to Sigrid is eighty on perfection, but ten on importance because I've got a lecture to finish, Miss Hall's got a meeting to attend, and Charlie? Well, he has a lot of waiting to do with those flirting skills. Am I right boys?"
Charlie didn't respond to his teacher, between shifty eye movement and the way the other boys jokingly repeated how worried Charlie was. Sigrid quickly got annoyed and opened the door, "That was quite unprofessional, Mr. Keating."
She was unamused. Mr. Keating still smiled, knowing that deep inside she was reacting in a way that would be embarrassing. "Alright, Ms. Hall, should I scale it up to a thirty?"
Her tongue popped out from her cheek as she fought the urge to laugh, if he weren't a teacher he'd definitely be a successful comedian. She showed Charlie out the door, "With all due respect, sir, that chart is the most unappealing and disappointing chart I have ever come across in my life. How does one measure poetry on a chart? It sucks the meaning of it. It's like judging a the fruit based on how close to a raspberry it looks."
"If you weren't in such a hurry, I'd ask you to give the lecture yourself."
She rolled her eyes, "I haven't got the patience."
"And neither does Nolan."
Her eyes widened when she looked at the clock over the blackboard, he laughed through his nose. "I suggest you head there before he beckons."
She nodded and put her school bag over her shoulder to run out the door, the door shut behind her slightly more aggressively than usual. Charlie was already walking down the hall, she met up with him in a few seconds. "Do you usually close yourself off like that when you're put in compromising situations?"
Charlie looked at her from the corner of his eye, head up confidently as he led her to the main room, his hand on the back of her elbow again out of habit. He'd done it twice.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean," he looked down at his hand once he noticed and hesitantly let it go, he wiped it off on his coat and then shoved his hand in his pocket. "You've got this peculiar way of showing other people you're scared, or you've been caught in something you shouldn't have. Like the first time I met you," he wiped his eyebrow with his index finger and then looked over at her quickly. Her hair slightly swished at the fast pace, he licked his lips nervously and then continued to talk. "You were holding this tray like this."
He picked up an imaginary tray in his hands, looking down at it with furrowed eyebrows. "And your hands were shaking like you had just walked into a room with a stranger holding your family hostage. It was humorous at first but the more I thought about it it felt like there was a bigger picture to why you were so nervous. And then today, you raised your hand, all attention was on you, and you started shaking again. It wasn't as noticeable because you weren't holding anything but your legs...oh," he stopped himself.
She was now curious, they were right outside the main room, Mrs. Dalton was walking at the end of the hallway with Headmaster Nolan and a few other teachers who were taking advantage of their free period. Thersa, tall and dressed in pink was right next to the black-suited, grey-haired man who ate too much hummus for comfort. His bottom buttons were threatening to bust open, he fixed his coat as a distraction and then turned to the woman.
Theresa hated Headmaster Nolan as much as the next person, she'd heard a handful of things about him and most of it was negative. She smiled, her lipstick making her seem friendlier than she actually was. The illusion of colors did wonders to a poor man's heart. Headmaster Nolan took a prefferance toward her, almost forgetting that he had a wife and kids of his own. Theresa knew of it, she made sure to tell her husband, she used her charm to keep Charlie out of trouble. How else would she have gotten Sigrid into school?
She smiled while nodding as he spoke arrogantly.
Charlie and Sigrid were now sitting on the pews at the front of the main room, both turned to each other and sitting in an awkward position trying their best to remain formal but comfortable. Headmaster Nolan and Mrs. Dalton was to walk into the room at any moment. Sigrid had her face pressed up to her palm as she rested her elbow on top of the pew. Charlie had one of his legs folded on his seat so his body could turn to her. They had direct views of themselves, psycohlogically it expressed mutual interest, Sigrid knew it as so she thought.
If I ever meet that fucking pig that flew today I'm going to make sure he's Canadian.
"Actually, when I was little my dad used to take me to the hospital where his brother worked to show his daily tasks, he worked in the emergency room so it was the usual things like stomach flus gone sour, woman coming in with broken water, an occasional stabbing," his eyes widened word after word as she spoke as if nothing was concerning about what she was confessing. "I guess that the closer we got to Canada the more people who came in seemed to be speaking French and I...well, my mother, when she was alive, only spoke French so I had to translate,"
"The pressure of having to translate at only five years old really did weird things to me. You know? It's stressful having someone's life in your heads, especially at such a young age. She got out of it thankful the first time but it hit much harder when I was thirteen...I supposed that as time went by and my choppy French putting me in a corner, my ticks and quirks started to become more prominent like hiccuping...the shaky legs, and the hair pulling. You haven't seen that but I'm expecting myself to stay sane enough to not do it. It's nothing to worry about, I'm sure everyone has something peculiar about them. Don't you Charlie?"
Charlie shook his head.
"Well, you've got to be lying!"
"Well, I'm not," bambi! He grinned as he pulled himself closer to her, her head slightly raised from her palm. "My life's been quite boring, I wish my dad took me around to see his brother building hotel's or some local mini-mart. I'll I've got is a a discount at Walgreen's and a room at Valentin's."
"So you think the possible post traumatic symptoms are cute? You think seeing some woman completely rip her vagina open in front of you is cute? I don't know about you, Charlie but I'd rather learn how to put tags on tincans than feel like you're the reason your mom died because you couldn't translate properly."
Charlie bit his bottom lip, looking at her as she got slightly angry. Sigrid's face dropped considerably and then awkwardly looked down at her lap. "What are you thinking about?"
He smirked slightly before shaking his head, "You're right, I'd rather live on the minimum wage."
He stood up before she could smack his shoulder. He went back with a giggle, causing her to laugh Sigrid's most ugly laugh because he sounded like a little girl. Charlie got her copy of her poetry book from her school bag and then tapped it next to her head, making her jump back in shock before glaring. "I'll catch you up with what happens in class today. We've got a study session today."
"Hasn't Knox got to go to the Danburry's tonight?"
"Yes," he looked down at the book. "But on the Pritchard's chart I'd rate that a ten of importance. I'll knock on your door after your time for showering and we could head to Meeks' dorm. We were going to study and Neil's but Todd's been pretty bitchy lately."
"And why is that?"
"I don't know."
"Well when you know," she almost stood up but then the front door opened and Mrs. Dalton and Headmaster Nolan walked in. "You could knock on my door and tell me about it. Talk about it over a peach maybe?" She grinned once she noticed Charlie's nose deflate in embarrassment.
"Not in front of my mother," he hissed before making it seem like it was his first time saying goodbye and quirking his head down respectfully.
"Whatever, ducky," she queried her head down as well then signaled him toward the door.
She stood up to greet the adults, Charlie was forced to talk to his mother. Theresa had that same grin on her face the same day she met Sigrid.