Edited 17th May 2020
My classes rolled in and by in a haze of dictated scribbles onto blank pages and unraised hands to teacher's questions. The mental exercise I had spent a year practising to placate my psychosis proved useless in the face of indigo-eyes and their intentions. No counting to ten, deep breaths in and exhales out could settle me as I anticipated my history lesson that afternoon. Why I was convinced that my history lesson would be our next meeting, I did not know but put it down to the foolish logic of my anxiety.
When history class did arrive, after a lunch of pretending not to notice the concerned expressions exchanged between Beth, Mandy and Jude, I was expecting Indigo Eyes to be occupying the seat that was, to all other eyes but mine, empty at the back of the classroom.
He wasn't.
The only scents pervading the classroom air was the stale sweat and overly applied perfume. Never had two equally offensive aromas been so happily embraced by someone of sound smelling capability.
It felt a long walk to the back of the class to my seat, culminating in me misstepping halfway there as I was overwhelmed by an irrational relief of not being the object of indigo-eyed scrutiny. Mr Gregory studied me suspiciously from behind his round spectacles as I took my seat. I blushed knowing that not only Mr Gregory but the other twenty people in my class had seen me stumble.
I slouched in my chair and glanced at the empty seat two across from me. Though the minutes might have proceeded to tick by without incident, that didn't mean anything more than the Indigo Boy being out there somewhere calculating his next move instead of in here. Or, perhaps I have become just like everyone else once again, blind to the movements of the paranormal.
Just to make sure he wasn't there, half way through the lesson I tore a page from the lined pad in my history folder. I scanned the room, checking I wasn't the subject of unwanted attention. Then, I scrunched up the torn paper and hurled it between the empty table and chair. It fell straight through.
No Indigo Boy then.
It was unfortunate that Mr. Gregory had the eyes of a hawk and the tolerance quantifying the volume of a teaspoon. I was to wait behind after class to answer for my actions. I knew better than to argue.
"Chris, you have been nothing but a conscientious student this term. I would go far as to say it has been a privilege to watch your progress and yet in both our previous class and this you couldn't be further from that. Should I be concerned?" Mr. Gregory asked, taking a seat at his desk as my classmates filed out of the room. He clasped his hands over a pile of half marked essays and made me feel colder with the disappointment in his stare than the indigo-eyed boy ever had. I swallowed, my guilt causing a considerable lump in my throat. I could not rationalise or condone my own actions to Mr. Gregory even if they were justified considering the circumstances.
"I don't know what to say except sorry Mr. Gregory," I began weakly. "I honestly have no excuse for my behaviour." I must have mastered the look of a pitiful teenage girl in crisis as Mr. Gregory's demeanour softened as he leaned back in his chair.
"I don't pretend to be your obvious confidant of choice Chris. I am, after all, an old, grumpy man who won't pretend to know the tribulations of today's youth but I am here to be a listening ear or point you in the appropriate direction of one if you need someone to talk to. Do not suffer in silence," Mr. Gregory said. I was confounded by my history teacher's capacity for grace. My mental instability was no secret and perhaps that was why Mr. Gregory favoured compassion over conviction.
"Thank you Mr. Gregory, I'll bear that in mind." I squared my shoulders. "And I'll try to be more like my usual conscientious self in class." Though I could offer my history teacher no real assurances, he seemed satisfied with my intent at the very least. He gathered his piles of papers into his hands and tidied them.
"Good." Mr. Gregory cleared his throat and gestured his head in the direction of the classroom door. "That will be all Chris." I nodded respectfully in farewell and made quick work of retreating from the classroom.
Outside the class, Beth was waiting.
"Do I want to know what Mr. Gregory had to say about whatever display of weirdness that was?" she asked, unable to predict what had come to pass based on my expression. She might have guessed the relief on my face purely to do with Mr. Gregory having a lapse in judgement and going easy on me rather than the true reason being my unexpected respite from Indigo Boy.
"Mr. Gregory is a better man than we give him credit for and that is all I have to say on the matter." Beth raised a disbelieving brow but saw no need to press me further, watching as solemn faced Mandy and Jude approached from their sixth-period Modern Studies class.
"The future is bleak and we are all going to die before life gets interesting. Thus endeth the lesson," Jude muttered.
"Excellent. Good to know," Beth muttered. "But as much as I would love to stand here and discuss the details of our demise we should get a move on. I'd rather not seal my tragic fate this day by missing the bus and getting home late to look after my sister. My mother needs no further ammunition to murder me as it is so, shall we?"
Rounded up like wayward animals by fear of Beth's wrath we made our way to the bus shelter. While we journeyed with urgency, I couldn't help but savour the breeze untainted by Indigo Boy's fragrance and the rarity of the Scottish sunshine bathing us in warmth. As we stepped out of the school gates and onto Bellevue Place, we were all struck by the sight of Tom slinging himself onto the back of a motorbike, his driver masked by a black helmet. Just as he was pulling his helmet over his head, Tom caught my eye and winked. The engine of the motorbike revved dangerously and before I had a chance to return him a half wave, his helmet was on and the driver had taken off towards Mansfield Place.
"It is criminal how good that boy looked on the back of that bike" Beth murmured. I might have rolled my eyes, if not still engaged in my pointless wave and in complete agreement with her.
"You aren't wrong," Mandy agreed.
"For once," Jude concurred, playing absentmindedly with the end of her plait.
"Chris?" Beth probed, conveniently having forgotten about her personal stakes in catching our bus in a timely fashion.
"Tom is, for the millionth time, just a friend. How good he looks on the back of a motorbike is irrelevant." They all laughed in the face of my poor deflection. I tried to remember when matchmaking Tom and I had become such a recurring topic of conversation and why now when nothing had seemingly changed between us.
"Surely you like Tom as more than just a friend, even if just a little. It's obvious he likes you that way," Mandy said, wrapping her arm around my own as we continued towards the bus stop.
"Even if Tom does, can't you all respect that he is clearly doing the sensible thing and not acting on those feelings and no wonder. High school is complicated enough as it is," I protested to a jury I knew would remain unconvinced regardless of whether or not my argument made sense.
"The only complication to that boy's otherwise enviable high school career is your indifference." Beth countered. "But I would be lying if I said it didn't provide us all with enough entertainment that you won't find me doing anything more to force you together." She paused, sharing a knowing look with Jude and Mandy as though they were all privy to a previous conversation I was not. "But no one will be surprised if complacency becomes more of a compilation for our good friend Tom than your stubbornness."
Beth and Jude glided past me with all of their infinite wisdom in tow. Mandy still clung to my arm but I wondered where her true loyalties lay when it came to my love life.
"Do you think I'm being stubborn?" I questioned. Mandy's copper curls caught in the breeze and concealed her face, making her instinctive reaction hard to read.
"I think you shouldn't let yourself be manipulated into feeling what other people tell you to feel." Mandy had always been the voice of least resistance, seeking neutral ground where there seemed to be none. "But, if you want my honest opinion on this, you should truly seriously consider how you feel about Tom now while there's no pressure, social or otherwise, to give him your answer if he asks."
Mandy's words weighed heavily on me as she withdrew her arm from mine to retrieve her bus pass from her bag. Mandy did not realise as she scrambled through her books for her pass how she'd given my mind further chaos to untangle and compartmentalise. Absentmindedly, I took my own bus pass from my pocket.
Might I have given no second thoughts to re-evaluating my relationship with Tom before the arrival of the indigo-eyed boy? Would the me of two days previous have been able to justify daydreaming about a boy I considered unattainable and the romance they could potentially have. Was I now getting carried away with the fantasies of others to distract from the fact she had been seeing invisible, indigo-eyed boys that no one else could?
These were the unsolvable thoughts I was consumed by in the two weeks that followed.
A sense of freedom and crushing self-doubt fostered itself within me as the fortnight past, unfrequented by the indigo-eyed boy. The invisible deviant had all but erased himself from my life and dreams.
Upon the first morning, after the uneventful Easter break, Beth was waiting at the foot of the flat stairs, fresh faced from two weeks of lie ins and too little exam revision.
"I hear Sarah and David started going out over the holidays but I don't think it's true. They're hardly compatible in every sense of the word. Though I can't say I'm surprised he was snatched up, that new haircut she has really suits her face shape," Beth prattled as I tried to remember how to function so early in the morning. While I may not have indulged in staying in bed as late in the day as Beth had, I had taken advantage of the extra, indigo-less sleep while I could.
Though my addled mind kept me from absorbing anything of Beth's social updates, it was quickly snapped to attention but an unusual presence at the East Preston Street bus stop. The man's expensive and overly formal attire stood out against the abysmal backdrop of Oxford Street and the occasion of a grey Monday morning but that was not my reasoning for staring.
The well-dressed man was muttering into a mobile in a hurried whisper. I tried to catch some of what he was saying with little success. Still talking he turned and observed us. His eyes were sharp, intelligent and indigo.
The man gave Beth a small nod. He was not invisible at least. As for me, I received a brief inquisitive stare and a cocked brow. I could have sworn there was recognition in those alarming eyes. Standing next to him, in wait of the approaching bus, I could not mistake he had a distinct musk of tobacco leaves - but that didn't imply more than this buttoned up man had more than a habit.
Then the bus pulled in and the door hissed open. The well-dressed, indigo-eyed man gestured for us to proceed before him but gave no pause to his conversation on the phone. He studied me and I studied him and Beth continued onwards none-the-wiser to the strangeness around her.
The well-dressed man was the sole subject of my attention, though he sat where I could no longer see his face. Masterful as I was at nodding at the appropriate times as Beth continued her tirade of high school social injustices, I could not keep up my surveillance and absentmindness when Jude and Mandy joined us. The pair were animated, both to see us after two weeks apart and in the anticipation of the day ahead.
"I know you both had thrilling Easter breaks, holidaying abroad and all that but that's the norm for you. Explain what there is to be so excited about," Beth muttered, unembarrassed by her bitterness. The closest she had come to getting a tan was walking past the tanning parlour on our end of Nicholson Street.
"I'm surprised that you, of all people, have forgotten," Jude derided with cutting condescension in her dark eyes lined with kohl. "Today is the day of our yet to be gendered, new kid. Not that their gender matters more today than it did when you first questioned it. We are all aware we're living in the 21st century right, the century of who gives a damn about putting people in boxes to satisfy social convention?"
The well-dressed man ended his call.
"All right, all right, consider myself lectured," Beth said, folding her arms defensively and returning Jude's scowl with one of her own.
"It still doesn't make any sense that they would be transferred now, right before exams. How does that even work, especially if they are coming from a school down south?" Mandy stressed, playing with a bracelet that was no doubt a souvenir from her holiday.
"I'm sure Mr. Rafferty has it all figured out," Jude replied. "And besides, depending on what's between their legs, I'm sure Beth will make an excellent study partner."
I was not unaware of the slight, infrequent inclination in the indigo-eyed man's head as though he was listening out for something. Could he have been trying to listen into our conversation or was that my paranoia talking? I conceded it was most likely the latter.
"Better me than you pigtails. My intentions may not be solely studious ones but at the end of the day I'll still get higher marks than you. You forget I'm more than just a pretty face."
I could have sworn the over-dress man smirked, turning his face just enough to inspect our ridiculous party at the back of the bus.
"What about you Chris? Are you looking forward to meeting them?" Mandy asked in the hopes I might help her diffuse yet another escalating squabble between Jude and Beth over nothing of importance.
"Sure." I shrugged, forcing a smile. "I'm just biding my time, waiting for you all to realise they might not want to have anything to do with us." The indigo-eyed gentleman was definitely watching now, a curious and unsettling smile on his face. How could I doubt there was something afoot? "Besides, I like it just being the four of us," I murmured. The man raised a challenging brow. Beth snorted.
"Three and a half Chris, you're only ever here in body and not in mind," Beth returned jovially.
"Finally, Beth. Something we can both agree on." The at odds pair became united in mocking me - the far most effective way of achieving such ends. Mandy nodded appreciatively at me, not partaking in the teasing herself. I shrugged her off, as practised as she was in diffusing drama.
After the number 8 bus circled the roundabout at the top of Leith Walk and exited onto Broughton Street, we rose from our seats. The well-dressed man remained seated, preoccupied with a document on his phone. I noted once more as I passed him, the earthy aroma of tobacco he carried. I made a final scrutiny of his clever indigo-eyes to satisfy my paranoia. Astute, grey-speckled indigo eyes engaged my own jades ones. Though I was unnerved by this man's scrutiny, I did not feel afraid of him. If he had malicious intent, he would not carry it out today. He nodded at me politely and resumed reading.
Beneath the canopy of shared umbrella's, Beth, Jude, Mandy and I skirted the forming puddles on Bellevue Place and entered the school gates unmanned by indigo-eyed boys or high school suitors. We strolled into the somewhat deserted grounds, students understandably biding their time to return to school after break.
In the shadows of a cream umbrella, a girl stood alone inspecting a scrap of paper and considering the facade of the school building. It would not have been unkind but accurate to say she looked strikingly like someone mistakenly sent to a morgue. Her hair fell to just above her waist in a midnight veil, her face deformed by the thick curtain of black. Although at first sight a dark and sinister creature she was still beautiful. Her dark beauty wasn't what struck me though; it was the damn, massive, indigo eyes.
Seizing the opportunity to capitalize on the vulnerability of the lonely girl, who could only have been the transfer student from her obvious lack of orientation, Beth stepped forward to introduce herself as the only sound point of reference in the whole school. At least Beth had proved Jude wrong, not openly disappointed by the new kid being a strapping man sent purely to sweep her off her feet.
"Hey, are you OK? You look a little lost," Beth said, her floral umbrella bumping gently into that of the girls. The girl eyed Beth suspiciously and then Mandy, Jude and I in turn with her sallow, indigo-eyed. For the second time that morning, I could not have pretended to imagine the singular attention this indigo-eyed creature seemed to pay me.
"I'm Sophia. I've just transferred and I'm early I think and as you say...lost." Her voice was deeper than to be expected, her accent betraying she wasn't from around these parts. Jude and Mandy stepped forward too, their aqua and burgundy umbrellas closing in to form a wider, more colourful canopy with Beth and Sophias'. My polkadot umbrella and I remained on the fringes, my mind needing the space to try to make sense of the sudden appearance of indigo-eyed beings and the significance of it, if any.
"I'm Beth, this is Jude and Mandy and that one being characteristically peculiar is Chris." Beth dismissed me with a nonchalant, ringed hand. "Don't mind her."
I would have very much preferred it if this indigo-eyed anomaly wouldn't mind me. Sophia couldn't seem to help it, as though there was something puzzling about my unextraordinary face.
"Where do you have to go first?" Mandy asked Sophia, reaching for her timetable. The new girl relinquished the piece of paper to Mandy, offering her only half of her attention. The unwavering intentionality in Sophia's stare forced me to look away, at anything that wasn't her. "Ah G16, well that makes things easier."
"G16. Where exactly does that mean?" Sophia questioned, revealing the right side of her face by tucking her hair behind her ear. She was undeniably and eerily pretty.
"Here, it's easy," Beth began, peering at the timetable in Mandy's clutches. "The G stands for ground, M for middle, T for top etcetera and the number it well...oh that's funny it looks like she's got the same timetable as you Mandy, unfortunately for her," Beth noted, tracing her finger along each row. Mandy smiled, unaware she was being near enough ignored by Sophia and she pinned me was almost an accusatory glare.
"Well I can show you around today, if you like Sophia. Out of the four of us, I'm your best chance of surviving the day in this place" Mandy joked, passing Sophia back her rain spattered timetable. Sophia looked openly perplexed, scanning the sheet of paper and frowning.
"Mandy doesn't bite if that's the issue." Beth said, sharing a bewildered look with Jude over Mandy's head at Sophia's unwarranted reaction. Mandy attempted to shrug it off but notably withdrew, clutching both of her hands to the handle of her umbrella.
"No it isn't that...I was just trying to make out something smudged out by the rain that's all," Sophia explained, still appearing bemused and proving herself a no doubt competent liar. Mandy was satisfied and proceeded, with Jude and Beth, to tell Sophia everything of the greatest unimportance about Drummond High and it's social intricacies. Sophia, though as capable as I could be at looking interested, didn't shift her scrutiny from me.
I didn't enjoy the silent stalemate between myself and this, the most recent, indigo-eyed challenger. What was their game here and was I part of it or just a circumstantial bystander. Did I want to know? Sure. But was now the time to ask? I glanced at Beth, Mandy and Jude. Absolutely not.
Believing that I would be unnoticed by anyone but Sophia, I intended to escape up to T10 to put in a few precious moments to my portfolio but was faced with an entirely new threat. People had started drifting through the gates and I moaned at the entrance of one person in particular.
"What's the matter with you?" Beth muttered, breaking from the huddle of umbrellas to see what I was bemoaning. "Ah," she said. "Well that would do it."
Devon Taylor, in a throng of his narcissistic friends and hangers on, strolled beneath a transparent umbrella into the school grounds. Somehow, he had managed to become more tanned than he already was over the Easter break, his naturally blonde hair sun-kissed. There was no denying he was handsome, the object of every girl's shallow desire but that could only take Devon so far. The art of conversation was not one of Devon's giftings, opening his mouth quickly tarnishing his angelic appearance.
"Incoming," I warned, measuring the distance between myself and the school entrance to work out if I had time to retreat.
"Who's that?" Sophia whispered to Jude and Mandy as Devon approached and I abandoned any hopes of escaping this encounter.
"Devon Taylor, he's in the year above and has an unhealthy obsession with Chris." Jude informed her quietly, checking to see he wasn't in hearing range.
"He's handsome. What's not to like?" Sophia asked. I didn't offer her an answer, Jude beating me to it.
"He's an asshat."
"And that's the polite way to put it. I can think of a four letter word starting with c that would be more fitting," Beth whispered, putting down her umbrella and placing herself firmly beneath mine. "Try to keep to my hair dry Chris, I spent an ungodly amount of time getting it right this morning." Beth coiled up her umbrella but kept the handle extended as if believing it would make a fitting but redundant weapon. I appreciated the ridiculous sentiment.
We all fell silent. Devon approached, running a cool hand through his hair and motioning his posse to continue on without him. I did not mistake the withering looks from his two most infamous sixth-year groupies as they passed.
"Morning ladies. Christine." he greeted sweetly, reaching for a coil of my hair to twist possessively around his finger. Beth pushed her umbrella into Devon's chest and forced him backwards.
"Please keep your arms and legs inside the vehicle at all times," she advised. "Or I shall find somewhere else to stick this."
Devon acknowledged Beth with a smirk, pushing on her umbrella so the handle collapsed in on itself.
"A pleasure as always Phillips." Beth took an aggressive step forward, Jude quickly following suit but I stopped them both and instead squared up to Devon.
"What do you want Devon?"
"A smile would do." My nerves prickled and hands flexed in anticipation of a reason to raise them.
"I'm hard pressed to find any reason to smile this morning, all things considered." I couldn't help but look briefly at Sophia in particular before once again locking eyes with Devon. "So unless there's anything else, I have better things to do than indulge your ego." Devon's sky blue eyes seemed to laugh at my flippancy. He was not accustomed to being brushed aside and that was probably why he enjoyed provoking me. After a moment, he considered his opposition - me, Mandy, Jude and Beth and decided this was not a battle worth pursuing. However, in doing so he caught sight of Sophia and estimated her as easy prey.
"Sorry but the cemetery's that way," he snorted pointing over his shoulder. Sophia cocked an eyebrow, unimpressed.
"Oh my God Taylor, seriously?" Mandy muttered, defensively retreating to begin to steer Sophia away. "Come on Sophia, I'll show you to registration."
"Wow Devon, you sure know how to make friends," Jude scoffed, making a point of dodging past me and punching Devon in the arm way too hard to be considered friendly banter. "What an asshat." Jude quickly ran to stand with Mandy and Jude, narrowly evading Devon as he tried to grab her and no doubt offer an equal thrashing.
"Well Devon, it seems you've given me reason to smile after all." I flashed him my most charming of smiles, inspired by his foolish and laughable arrogance. "So on that note." Keeping Beth close beneath the shelter of my polkadot umbrella, we left Devon to stew in the rain and followed after Mandy, Jude and Sophia.
I did not miss Sophia eye Devon over her shoulder with an expression I couldn't fathom. It could have been out of sympathy for facing Devon Taylor so early in the day, but for the first time I made an effort to engage Sophia in conversation.
"Ignore Devon. I'm convinced he's the product of unhappy circumstances and so I tend to feel sorry for him more than anything else. Don't take anything he says to heart. OK?" Under the shelter of the school entrance, we put down our umbrellas, shaking the dregs of rain from their coloured canopies. When she didn't respond I instinctively but regretfully placed a reassuring hand on her arm.
It wasn't her clear dislike for my hand to be on hers that made me pause while my friends were none-the-wiser. It was the familiarity in her indigo irises that made me hesitate, the chill that assaulted my hand and the feeling that the boy who I'd told to leave me alone was doing anything but.