Lea
After hiking the streets for ten minutes, I eventually arrive at school just before the bell rings. I rush towards the senior corridors that are trafficked with students huddling around their lockers, getting books out for the day of lessons to come. Thankfully, the girl I need the most is waiting patiently by my tall, blue locker, looking down at her phone as I approach her.
"Hey Marissa," I call, slightly out breath from the number of stairs I've had to climb.
Her head shoots up to face mine and she looks at me with inquisitive eyes, probably wondering what happened to me yesterday after she left. Entering the code into my lock, the locker clicks open. Inside sit most of my books and my pencil case, which I luckily didn't take home last night. What catches my eye, however, is a small folded note in the corner; it was probably threaded through the gaps of the locker door.
"Hey, how are you?" She asks, concerned.
"Well, apart from being homeless, I'm okay," I offer her my best forced smile as I reach for the note.
She leans back onto the locker behind her, "I know, I'm so sorry, it must suck. If you need anything though, I'm here."
My forced smile turns genuine, "naw, don't get all mushy on me. It's fine, don't worry about me." I wave dismissively as if it's not a big deal, but the issue is constantly circling in my mind.
Where are we going to live after we've outdone our stay at the Parker's? Where are we going to get money from? How long is it going to take before some sort of normalcy comes back into our lives? Jabbing those questions to the back of my mind, I look down to inspect the contents of this small piece of crumpled paper. In messy handwriting is a message, which reads:
Hey, Lea. Come to my party tonight? Starts at 8pm.
16, Widow Drive, Brentary.
You can invite as many friends as you like
- Nick Convey
Well then, these past twenty-four hours have been strange, but I didn't think it would reach this amount of strange. The only way I could describe Nick Convey is the all around golden boy - he has the looks, along with the charisma, and is very athletic. I don't think there's a single succesful sports team in this school that doesn't brag of having him on board.
What is strange about this situation is that I don't really know him. If I remember correctly, a few years ago we were lab partners for a semester, but he didn't speak much and I definitely didn't open any conversation that wasn't chemistry-related. So why would he all of a sudden invite me?
"Ris, read this," I hand her the note.
After hastily reading it, her confused expression matches mine.
"Since when have you been friends with Nick?" She asks, still staring at the writing.
I shrug, "like, never, really."
"Well," her eyes slide up to meet mine again, and she's wearing a quizzical look on her face. "You going?"
"Ha. No way in hell would my dad let me, you know how he is." I reply, taking the paper from her and tossing it back into my locker.
"Mhm," she hums, most likely weary of my father's strictness.
Checking my planner for the lessons I have, being Math's, Biology, Chemistry and finally English, I take hold of all the folders I need. When I look upon my yellow English one though, I remember that River is in the same class.
"But," She pauses until she's gained my full attention. "You can always use the 'I'm staying at Marissa's house' excuse, eh?" Her eyebrow arches, making me laugh.
"Would you come with?"
"Any excuse to get out of the house," she responds, to which I laugh even more.
"If I lived in a house like yours, I would happily stay in."
She says something back, but I catch something out of the corner of my eye that distracts me. Of course it's River, and of course, I would spot him out of a bunch of people in the crowd. He's walking with his friends, namely Ky and Jake. They're laughing about something, oblivious of the girls who are staring in their direction. Just as I'm about to look away, River's eyes meet mine. They are outlined with a few creases caused from the contageous grin he wears. I'm the first one to look away, still pissed off with what he said in the car this morning, it was rude and uncalled for. It'll be best if I stay away as far away from him as possible.
Although I have to live with him for now, those gorgeous eyes aren't going to bother me, or that chiselled jaw, or that muscular and Dorito-shaped back...stop!
***
The school day passes by faster than I thought it would, and before I know it, the bell for the last lesson rings. Pacing through the school, I head to the languages department. Upon opening the door to Mr. Sepriars English room, I am reminded that River is in the same class by his marked presence. He's the first person I spot, sat in the far left-hand corner at the back of the room with Ky in front and Jake beside him. His arms are folded and rested on his desk as he looks out of the window to his left, overseeing the football fields in the distance where the lower year are currently practicing.
I look down to the ground, trying to avoid eye-contact with anyone, as I do normally. Walking around a few desks, I reach my allocated seat, which is right in the middle of the room, and drop my bag near the leg of the table. Lowering myself onto the seat, I sense a pair of eyes on the back of my head. So, in a sneaky attempt to see whose eyes they are, I lean down towards my bag to unzip it, only to quickly glance backward. River is staring right back me.
Immediately, I look back to my bag, grabbing a few items while trying to ignore the subtle increase in my pulse. Taking a black pen out of my pencil case and opening my planner to the first clean sheet of lined paper, I start scribbling random lines to pass the time until Mr. Sepriars finally arrives. He pushes through the door with difficulty, holding a dozen folders in one hand and clutching his briefcase with the other. Placing the folders and briefcase onto the table, he claps his hands together to silence the mummers sounding throughout the class.
"Quiet please!" He calls and a hush settles over the classroom.
English, the only subject that makes sense to me. It's a shame that today, although I hate to admit it, River's presence behind me is awfully distracting.
"Please turn to where we left off in Romeo and Juliet yesterday," He instructs us while rubbing black pen marks off the whiteboard with a whiteboard rubber.
I open my folder and empty my Romeo and Juliet novel from the plastic wallet in the front, turning to the appropriate page before resting my chin in my palm. I have a weird urge to glance back over my shoulder at River again, but I don't.
"Right, Angela, you start us off." Mr. Sepriars orders the girl in front of me to start reading, and so she does.
Although I find the language of Romeo and Juliet impossible to follow, and I have no clue as to what the hell is going on half the time, it depresses me how tragic the ending it. If only I could find my Romeo, but instead of dying because of poor communication, we'll live happily ever after.
Lea, focus!
"Thank you, Angela," Mr. Sepriars stops the girl from reading any further, and I've only realised that I've been zoned out and missed a whole two pages just lost in my thoughts. The teacher searches the room for another reader before his eyes land on someone behind me. "River, you read next please."
Absolutely every head in the class – including mine - turns towards him, watching him straighten in his chair and clearing his throat. Just for one second, our eyes meet, but he turns his head to the book in his hands.
"O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright! Her beauty hangs upon the cheek of night, like a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear; beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear! So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows, as yonder lady o'er her fellows shows. The measure done, I'll watch her place of stand, and, touching hers, make blessed my rude hand.
Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight! For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night."
Right, I'm sure in the past there have been times where I've admired him from afar, simply due to his good looks, but now having actually been introduced to and spoken to him, his voice sounds so much more intriguing, making me want him to continue reading more. His voice, although quite deep, possess a husky softness that is more than pleasing to the ears.
"Thank you, River." Mr. Sepriars stops him before he can speak any further, much to my dismay.
You will hate me, yet I can't help it. I glance over my shoulder once more and catch his eyes. He's looking at me, and it makes my heart beat just that little bit faster.