Chapter 3
Community Service
Ellis
"No, you can't- please, Mister- Sir...I'll do anything to have to it off my permanent record," I begged in a manner that was an anomalous aberration of my usual composed eloquence. It was a mortifyingly humiliating experience; tears were welling up in my eyes as the Principal- Mr Sullivan- was reading through the notice Mr Newman had given him. I was choking back the urge to hyperventilate- after all I had worked for, sacrificed humanely for this slipping concept of perfection for the perfect grades and perfect reputation...came crashing down because of one...
"Relax, Chan," grinned Jem, a smile full of teeth. He took out a silver flash and slipped it into his mouth. My face contorted into a winced grimace, struggling to withhold myself from gouging his eyes out, my teeth grinding against each other as the sound of his voice irritated me from hell and back. "It's one meagre detention and your first. I bet your college rep has only so much of a scrape on its knee."
I whipped my head to face him. "Not in the mood to be rational, Jeremy!"
The smile slid off his face. "Don't call me that."
"Then don't invigorate efforts of talking to me, you simpleton."
He winked. "You know you're kind of hot when you're mad, Porcey."
A sarcastic remark was rising on my lips until I realized he called me something I've never heard him called me before. It was funny because Jem had always been the guy who gave everybody nicknames. He nicknamed our ninth grade homeroom teacher 'Apples' because every gadget he ever owned was an Apple product. He called Tabitha 'Tic' which was short for 'plastic' but for the sakes of our livelihood, she has yet to figure it out what it meant (she tolerated it- mostly because of his dashing cheekiness). Astrid was 'Legs' due to her extremely flexible ability to bend her legs all the way to her head on a pyramid. And he nicknamed Calista 'Manson' probably because of her music choice.
Throughout our many horrible years together, Jem had tried and failed to come up with an effective nickname for me. 'Dwarf' earned him a libel suit. 'Yellow' had me sarcastically saying: How original. So it was always 'Chan'. Until now.
"What did you call me?"
He only then chose to grin even wider, insufferably so because my heart did this terrifyingly high leap. "Why don't you figure out, Porcey? Since you're so smart."
Thankfully, Mr Sullivan interrupted before I could let out a remarkable resemblance to an Incredible Hulk scream and aim my shoe at his ridiculously brilliantly chiseled mouth to drown out his mocking chortles. "Look Miss Chan," he said in a tone that could not be more official-sounding if I had a say so. I braced myself for the impact of bad news, gripping tightly on the leather armrests as he continued: "You're a perfect student, a perfect philanthropist; not a single mistake but I'm afraid this will go on your permanent record."
I choked back a sob and buried my head in utter despair. Jem rolled his eyes.
"Oh, please. You're being melodramatic," scoffed Jem but I didn't even register him.
That was it. My career- everything I worked for- was gone. What was making my defeat even more humiliating was that it was unravelling in front of the one person who I always made it an effort to be my most presentable and adequate, my worst enemy. To add insult to the injury, he was taking everything in an apathetic stride- that...that detention was just a minor, trivial manner. He didn't even care, which I found was the utmost maddening characteristic about Jeremy Leighton.
While I worked so hard for the grades, the projects and everything else for perfection, Jem made it so...effortless. While I was stark raving mad about e, Jem was relaxed, calm and collected, pranking others and generally raising hell. Was it like he never bothered and didn't he realised caring about something mattered? Didn't he cared...at all?
"I'll do anything to get it off," I said, bordering on hysteria. "Please, Mister Sullivan! I need this! I don't mind the detention...I just want it off my permanent record. I- I can't afford to have it on there! Mister Sullivan, please, I'm begging you."
"It's one detention on your record, Porcey. Jesus Fucking Christ."
Before another heated reply, Mr Sullivan shot Jem a glare. "Jeremy, I wouldn't talk too much. After last year's flooding incident and the toilet-saran wrapping accident and the bell-burying misdeed, I'm afraid you're literally one detention away from expulsion."
"Wait, what?!"
"See?" I smiled smugly at Jem. I smoothed down my hair and looked at Mr Sullivan. "We'll do anything to avoid the, um, intending punishment. Please."
Jem nodded as he realised he could be expelled.
Mr Sullivan bit his lip nervously, twiddling with the ballpoint pen. "There is-" He hesitated, "There is one thing you can do." He looked at Jem. "Both of you."
Jem doctored another long gulp of his flask to cure his nervousness and his interest piqued. "What do you mean?"
"Well, I'll be willing to erase traces of any misbehaving acts on both of your permanent record...and I'll be lenient enough to spare you-" he looked at Jem specifically- "expulsion if you help me out."
I leant in. "Anything, sir! Anything."
"it's not unpaid prostitution, right?" wondered Jem sceptically, "Because I'm doing that for free."
"Jem!" I stepped on his toe.
"Ow, Porcey! Damn."
Principal Sullivan cleared his throat. "As you realised, I've recently had to cut some sports teams and clubs because of our crumbling budget. The country's been at this recession for the past..." Mr Sullivan exhaled loudly, stressed out. I recognised that breathing pattern; it was how I reacted before any exams. "And I was hoping you could be able...to help fill in janitorial spots for a while. A month or two."
Jem laughed. "Hell no, we are not-"
"Done," I interrupted, kicking him in the shin to shut up. He hissed in pain, teeth gritting, and glared at me. "It's done. We'll do it."
"Hey, you can't make me-"
"Some community service will do you good Jem," I retorted, "It'll give you a break from drowning puppies or whatever you do for your extracurricular activities."
"Drowning puppies?" He arched one eyebrow. Damn him. I was trying to master that one-eyebrow trick for years. "Are you advocating animal's violence, Porcey?"
"I'm not advocating anything, you overgrown narcissistic-"
"Enough." Mr Sullivan reached into one of his drawers and extracted a tiny bottle, then began popping Xanax pills. He chucked one into his mouth and swallowed without any water. "Can we just...discuss this civilly?"
"Of course," I nodded seriously, almost in contempt at my nonsensical behaviour a while ago. "I'm sorry, Mister Sullivan. But we'll do it. We'll do the janitor jobs for free."
Finally, for the whole Principal's meeting, Mr Sullivan's face broke into a smile. "That's what I was talking about."
-
It was a settled, mutual (well, sort of) cohesion of agreements. I was hereby sentenced to a month, possibly two, of community service with Jeremy Leighton. Honestly, I was bummed- I was hoping there was a better way out of it since voluntarily asking for allocated time with aforementioned overgrown narcissistic twat (yes, that was the intended conclusion) was almost as painful as chopping off my own arm.
"So a little birdie told me you got sent to the Principal's office," was Calista's first greeting upon meeting me by the lockers through the transition between Period 3 to 4.
"What?" I exclaimed, aghast. "Who?"
Calista leant on her locker with her maths book pressed against her ripped Green Day shirt from Hot Topic. "Leslie Redfern. We had Bio together."
"Bitch!"
Calista gasped. "Did you just....?"
"Yeah, yeah," I muttered angrily, pushing my headband up. "I know. I said it."
"Jeez, your moods are all over the place. Time of the month?"
"I don't know," I mumbled, stressed out. I slammed my locker shut, the sound of it vibrating shook through the halls. Onlookers stared but as they realised Ellis Chan was just displaying her customary theatre show of dramatics, they walked away.
"Anyway, heard you slapped Jem Leighton," smirked Calista deviously. "Didn't know you were into that Fifty Shades of Grey kinda shit."
"Oh shut up," I grumbled, disgruntled as I hugged my Physics textbooks to my chest. "I'm so not in the mood."
Calista was still grinning like a Chesire cat. We began walking down the hallway, adroitly steering our way clear of the incoming surge of footballers barreling their way after Third Period gym, smelling like the male locker room. I wrinkled my nose. Ever heard of hygiene?
Then as we turned around to another corridor, Calista and I was approached by Tabitha Kay, the apparent 'Queen Bee' of our school, and her plain-looking (as compared to Tabitha) best friend Effy Kaiser, Caleb Kaiser's fraternal twin sister. She tittered towards us in her pink Prada sports shoes, prancing around with her cheerleading costume of a shamefully short red skirt and a tight cheerleading crop top while Effy was trailing behind Tabby's heels in stained jeans, a mop of frizzy red hair and a plain Daydreamers Never Die t-shirt.
Now with my abundant knowledge and stellar grades, there was no doubt I would be constantly harassed by Tabitha Kay- if she wasn't afraid of my money. Tabitha's father might be the CEO of some microwave company but my family was heir to an empire of lawyers, senators, businessmens and various stockholders so she knew that I would sue her quicker than you can say 'oops'. Even though I was not a part of her abstract, trivial concept of her high school hierarchy, she made it an effort to be nice to me every chance she got.
Calista, however, was a different story.
"Hey, Els, love your headband!" She greeted with enthusiasm, as though we've been best friends since the dawn of existence. It was a weird because she hardly ever talked to me unless she needed help with her homework. I was well aware of how two-faced Tabitha Kay was but it didn't mean I had to suffer the laborious act of pointing it out to her when I could just bathe in the warmth of her genuinely fake company. She smiled that smile she always put on when she put on the speech about how much she cared for everyone in the school during her Homecoming Queen coronation. "Oh by the way, have you seen Astrid?"
Calista scowled at Tabitha, making her face looked more sinister with the extreme amount of eyeliner. "Nice to see you too, Tabby. Your new sex change looks so good. How did you manage it? Male to female is always really difficult."
Tabitha's plump Botox-injected filler lips curled. "Oh, Calista," Tabitha's voice oozed faux sympathy as she flipped her hair. "You would know. I guess it's the only thing you have after your failure of a face."
Effy snickered.
Calista sucked her teeth. "Well, at least-"
"Calista, we're nearly late for Physics," I scolded her, tugging at her wrist. I turned and gave a tight smile to Tabitha. "No, I haven't seen her. Not since this morning."
Tabitha's smile dropped from her face. Tabitha was the kind of pretty that was best without makeup or any enhancements and spectacular with hints of it. Of course, she ignored her actual beauty and squandered the most of her parent's money on any sort of enhance she could afford. Her face was coated in a smokey-eye with a lip-lined nude lip, an ocean of coverage foundation and mascara. Effy was kind of boring to look at. I mean, Effy was attractive...in a plain Jane sort of way with a clean, makeup-free face. Her freckles were splashed across her nose, visible under the school's lighting, and her green eyes were alight with a merriment.
The funniest coalition in this school, besides the triad of Heath, Jem and Caleb- the two most notorious troublemakers and a geek- was probably Effy and Tabitha. While Tabitha was a glamorous Queen Bee, Effy was a passionate art student who walked around in paint-stained overalls. And as Tabitha became prettier with age, Effy grew plainer.
Tabitha's lips pursed in vague disappointment. "Oh well. If you see her, tell her I'm looking for her."
Tabitha marched away, blonde hair flying behind her and Effy followed her.
"How do you not feel the the urge to scratch her eyes out, Els?"
"It's a gift, Calista, it truly is."
-
I couldn't believe the bloody bastard.
He wouldn't dare bail on our cleaning duties.
But this was Jem Leighton. He definitely would.
There was no saving grace for his recalcitrant behaviour.
I still remembered my first day of kindy and I cried because he mocked the pink ribbon headband my mother gave to me. I hated him ever since. There were still moments when he wasn't a total bully; he would split his Oreos with me whenever he wasn't with his gang. Or we would play by the playground while our mothers talked. It was only at school he was Jem Leighton; the joker, the funny guy, the charismatic jock, the unfathomable asshole I've yet to figure out.
Of course, despite our occasional smiles over the years, he and I were total opposites. Enemies from Day One. He was that bad boy, the party king. I was the good girl, the genius.
The scenario did not blend at all.
So this afternoon I hunted the whole school looking for Jem Leighton with rubber gloves and a mop, promising myself I would personally eviscerate him when I found him. It eventually grew to a point where I tried the locker room.
"Caleb!" I called out as I pinched my nose at the scent of rotting mildew and sweaty gym socks. I fought the urge to throw up as I carefully avoided the half-naked bodies swarming around me, avoiding the cat-callings and smirks as I marched up to Caleb Kaiser. Caleb and I were on okay terms; he was on my Model United Nations team last year and he was quite a good diplomatic speaker- maybe even better than me, if I was feeling generous with compliments. The funny thing was that he dated Calista a while back and though they parted on a mutual friendly basis, he remained friends with Astrid, Calista, Jem and I. At the same time. Ridiculous, right?
"Hey, Chan," he said, grabbing a shirt from his gym locker. "What's up?"
"Where's Jem?"
"Straight to the point, huh?" he chuckled light-heartedly. He pulled his shirt over his body, revealing a toned body and I gulped. I always had a small crush on Caleb. It was so weird that he was even Effy's twin; they looked so different. Effy had wild reddish-brown hair, Caleb had blondish brown hair. But they shared the same pale green-blue eyes, framed with thick lashes.
I scanned the area for Jem's hulking frame and chiselled face but there was no sign of the half Italian boy anywhere. "He's not here," chuckled Caleb. "He doesn't like to shower at school, Els."
Oh, great. Now I had to deal with a gross, sweaty after-football Jem? I wrinkled my nose. Actually, Jem after football was usually quite attractive- if you didn't mind the smell of testosterones and sweat. His t-shirt stuck to his well-defined abdomen, showing the sculpted shape of his stomach that had virtually no flabby bits. It was ridiculous how well-endowed with muscles he was. "Just tell me where he is."
"So you guys are doing community service, eh?" I nodded curtly, anger and irritation flashing through my eyes as Heath scratched his head and a pregnant pause filled our conversation. "Look, I'm sure whatever Jem said to piss you off- he didn't mean it, Els. You know Jem; he does things without thinking and giving a fuck."
"I know, Caleb," I responded, glad that we've shifted away from the tense moment. "Anyway, where is he? He's supposed to meet me by the toilets an hour ago."
Caleb winced, grimacing at me. "Er, promise you won't kill him?"
"Caleb, tell me where he is."
"He's at his usual hook-up spot." Caleb nodded out of the locker room with his intoxicatingly bright green eyes. "And I wouldn't go in there at the moment. I heard he's with that freshman- Ciara or whatever. And judging from the sounds..." Caleb shrugged to leave me to my own conclusions and I held up a hand, signalling him to stop.
"I don't need the sordid little details, Caleb. I'll just wait until he's done. How long does it usually take?"
"Depends on the girl and Jem's mood," Caleb casually threw his filthy, muddy shoes into his duffel bag. His eyes grew wistful. "And, um, after football Jem's usually pretty..."
"Pretty? What does that mean?"
"Means a long, long time." He patted me on the shoulder in a brotherly fashion. "You sure you would want to see him now? You look a little tense."
"I think I'm good, thanks."
"Alrighty, then. Better head home. You know where the hook-up spot is?'
Everybody did. Even the teachers. It was the janitor closet in the C-Wing hallway. I nodded a yes, whirled onto my heel and stomped my way out of the gym lockers. The hookup spot was undoubtedly infamous for the deflowering of Tabitha Kay and numerous other girls and the juicy gossip was handed round and round of who hooked up with who. I was not in anyway certified with the fortified judgement of when they should give up their sacred virginity but more of where. I was a massive believer in special moments and where you're giving yourself over to somebody, especially involving your body, your womanhood, had to be for damned sure classier than the janitor's closet.
I could hear the lecherous sounds omitting from the closet. A sound of a zipper being undone and a girly little giggle. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I made sure to bravely wrap my fist onto the door.
"Hmm, who's there?" Jem's throaty, turned-on voice floated through the door I flushed by I managed to fight for my composure. "Is it your other friend?"
I rolled my eyes and with a clear, affirmative tone ridden in exasperation: "It's Ellis, Jem. I've been waiting for almost an hour, you idiot."
I caught Jem swearing softly and the shuffles of clothes being tugged on. "Sorry," Jem apologised to the girl as the door swung open. The pretty little freshmen he had pinned against the shelves of bleach scampered, pulling her skirt the right way around as she skipped out of my path. I glared at Jem, whose hair was unkempt and dishevelled like hands had been running through those tousled locks. His eyes dipped down and noticed the yellow rubber gloves as I held my body akimbo.
"Just what the hell is wrong with you?"
He laughed at me. I was tempted to slap him again. "It's not funny," I inhaled sharply, "I looked for you everywhere."
"Well, now you found me," he said insouciantly; I led him to a corner where all the supplies I found was gathered at. "Where are we starting?"
Now, this was time for my perfect revenge. I plastered on my sweetest, greatest smile- a smile I specially reserved for college representatives on Uni Day. I unrolled the gloves of my fingers and tossed it onto his chest. He caught it in perfect synchronisation. "Since you were late, you can do the toilets."
Grabbing the mop, I stormed off to the classrooms- but not in anger, in triumphant.
"Porcey!" Jem called out hopelessly behind me as he proceeded to stare at the (lo and behold) filthy, greasy-spotted doors of the male and female restrooms adjacent to each other. "Porcey, please you can't make me do the toilets."
I blew him a kiss as I turned my head with an evil little smirk. "Watch me."