"What a treacherous thing to believe that a person is more than a person." -John Green, Paper Towns
FORD HAS NEVER EXACTLY BEEN THE TYPE TO SULK AROUND, BUT HE'S in a strangely good mood the next couple of days. The day after I had stayed with him for wood shop, he greeted me at lunch with a giant hug, repeatedly thanking me for staying and helping him, claiming that the look on his teacher's face had practically secured him an A. It's not just that, though; even in our classes together, he just seems a lot more brighter, and not as quiet as he usually is.
Lucas admits it, too; though he claims he likes it because it's bringing out 'Ford's rebellious side' which I think everybody can agree Ford doesn't have. If calling out in class is what Lucas means, though, then I guess that can be classified as rebellious for Ford. We're in English, and Mrs. Hines is pretty upset that her favourite student isn't really participating. So, to make up for the silence of the students, she drones on about Charles Dickens' final unfinished novel.
"Many different adaptations of the book have been written," she explains. "Many people have tried to finish it themselves, but it just never matched up to Charles Dickens' writing. Some people believed the book was better unfinished because it left that element of mindboggling mystery that he was so good at. Some people even believed that he did it on purpose."
Jas rolls her eyes beside me, whispering, "Yeah, he totally died on purpose."
"Does anyone know how Charles Dickens passed away?" Mrs. Hines asks, finally addressing the class. Her eyes flicker to Ford for a moment, but he doesn't have his hand up for once, so she moves on. When no one answers, Mrs. Hines sighs. "He died of stroke."
The class stays unresponsive. Mrs. Hines snaps. "I hope you're all taking notes! There's going to be a test on this Friday, after all."
"Since when?" Lucas demands.
"Since now," she declares. People groan and the sound of paper being taken out and notebooks opening up fill the room. I roll my eyes, irritated, and open my binder, clicking my pen on and off from habit.
Mrs. Hines moves on from Charles Dickens' death, back to his final novel, The Mystery of Edwin Drood. She starts making us write down points on the basic plot- Edwin Drood is to marry some girl, although their love is flat and bland. He is then accused of treating her poorly, and after getting his watch repaired, is declared missing the following day by his uncle Jasper.
By the end, my hand is cramping up, but I manage to take down the last of the notes before the bell rings. I pack up quickly, eager for lunch, but my eyes flicker to Ford. I can't help but notice that he hasn't taken down a single note.
"You're pretty confident," I tell him, gesturing to his empty notebook. Ford's grey eyes sparkle with amusement.
"I know this book like the back of my hand," he explains, a ghost of a smirk on his lips. "I know it from the beginning to end, trust me."
I narrow my eyes. "There is no end, though. It wasn't finished."
Ford smiles. "There's always an end, Ava."
He pushes past me to make his way to the doors, leaving me alone in the class. I blink a couple of times, getting over my shock, before running after him, ready to demand what he meant. But, when I enter the hallway, he's no where to be seen.
I sigh, pushing through the crowd of students to make my way to my locker. Jas isn't there- she's really quick when it comes to lunch. I open the door, winching at the screech it makes, and toss in my first period textbooks. The money in my pocket feels heavy, begging for me to buy food already, and I'm happy to comply.
I don't know where Jas, Lucas and James have went, but I end up alone at lunch. I eat for the first half, but then I end up taking out my notes again. We never finished with the main plot, but I actually find myself interested. Taking out my phone, I do a quick Google search, eyebrows shooting up in surprise. Edwin Drood dies.
Slightly uncomfortable with the revelation, almost feeling as if that's just not supposed to happen, I put my phone away. I reread my notes over and over again. Maybe it was Neville? He didn't like the way Edwin was treating his soon-to-be-wife. It could have very easily been Neville. But that almost seems too obvious.
I ponder over it a little more, but am shocked out of my thoughts at the sound of my phone beeping. I reach into my pocket, seeing a message from Ford.
Ford: Mr. Stevens needs to talk to me.
Ford: This could either be really good news or we're getting suspended.
Ava: Ford! What is it? Did we break something?
Ford: Idk I'll let you know
Ford: Don't worry though if we broke something I'll blame it on you
Ava: Okay I actually hate you
Ava: Ford???
Ava: If I'm getting suspended you're telling my dad
Ava: He'll shoot you
Ava: WILSON
I almost throw my phone across the room from frustration when he stops replying. Mr. Stevens had always been a pretty easy going wood shop teacher, but if we ended up breaking something on accident, I know he won't let us off easy.
Groaning loudly, I close my binder and stuff my things in my backpack, hastily zipping it up. Ignoring the weird looks I receive, I shoulder my bag and make my way out of the cafeteria, phone in hand, waiting for a text. When I don't get one, my pace just increases, causing for me to be standing outside the wood shop in record time.
Ford and Mr. Stevens are alone in the room, talking in hushed voices. Mr. Stevens looks slightly concerned, and Ford's face is pale and blank, as if he doesn't want to comprehend what's being said to him. Both stop, however, when my gracefulness and I end up dropping my phone. I curse and pick it up, giving an apologetic look for interrupting.
"Ah, Ava Jackson," Mr. Stevens grins, pleased. I can't help but notice how quickly he changes emotions. "How good it is to see you. Do come in, please."
I give him a small smile as I slowly enter, but my eyes flicker to Ford. His grey eyes look like they're made of storm clouds, and unlike Mr. Stevens, he doesn't bother taking on a sudden happy expression at my presence.
"Is everything okay?" I ask. "We didn't break anything, right?"
Mr. Stevens chuckles good-heartedly. "Of course not, my dear. Nothing like that." He turns back to Ford. "Well, Mr. Wilson. You're dismissed. I'm not only proud of your project, but the determination your insane procrastination skills have offered."
Ford simply nods shortly, jumping off of the desk he had been sitting on. He pushes past me, but after seeing his upset expression, I don't hesitate to follow him. Once we're pretty far from the room, I grab his forearm and spin him around to face me.
"Wilson," I say, and when he doesn't give me much of a response, my voice softens. "Ford, come on. What's wrong?"
Ford bites down on his bottom lip and shakes his head. I try to ignore that small part of me that can't help but find the bite attractive and focus on cheering him up.
I don't really know what to do, but I can't stand to see him upset. So I just open up my arms, "Want a hug?"
Ford buries his head in my blonde hair right away, his dark hair tickling my cheek, but I don't mind. He smells nice, anyway. Kind of like coconut shampoo, with a mix of laundry detergent coming from his sweater, yet I can't help but find it a comforting scent. And he's really warm, too.
He pulls back too quickly for my liking, but the smile he gives me is worth it. "Thanks," he tells me in a genuine whisper. "I'm going to get some lunch. Sorry for scaring you."
"Don't worry about it," I say. "See you after lunch?"
Ford nods, and we go our separate ways.
x
"Has anyone seen Ford?" Mr. Clark asks the class. Murmurs are tossed around, almost all of them involving the notion of no. Mr. Clark clicks his tongue and writes something down, muttering, "Wilson skipping class, not something you see everyday..."
Chemistry ticks by one agonizing minute at a time, and suddenly, I'm regretting leaving Ford alone when he was upset. I whip out my phone while Mr. Clark drones on.
Ava: Where are you??
Ava: Ford get your ass to class
Ava: That rhymed :)
Ava: okay I'm serious
Ava: FORD WILSON
I put my phone away as soon as I see Mr. Clark turn back to the class. I sigh- Ford wouldn't skip a class. He just wouldn't, no matter how upset he was. It just isn't him. I practically jump when I feel my phone vibrate ten minutes later, quickly turning it on, just to see it's from Lucas.
Lucas: Where's Wilson
Lucas: I need someone to give me the RIGHT answers I'm getting them from Chelsea rn and that is wrong on so many levels friend
My eyes flicker across the room to Lucas, who is looking at me pointedly. I sigh.
Ava: Last time I saw him was lunch
Lucas: So helpful!!!!
Lucas: Most helpful human being award goes to Ava Jackson!!!!
Ava: Shut up
Lucas: I'm not talking
I roll my eyes and look back up, focused on taking notes. Maybe Ford was so upset he went home? Although I think if he called home, Mr. Clark would know. I sigh, shaking my head, telling myself to just stop worrying about it.
Chemistry drags on with me constantly throwing glances at the door, but Ford never walks through. After a chiding to myself to just quit worrying about it, Lucas and I meet at the science door once the bell rings.
"I'll text you if I hear anything," he tells me.
"Yeah, same."
Then we go our separate ways. I head to World Issues with a slight hang of my head, knowing that although I'd like to think I'm going to walk in and see Ford sitting at his desk, it's probably not going to happen.
I'm proven correct when I walk in and there's no sign of Ford. And when the bell rings, and there's still no sign of him, not even fifteen minutes into class, I start to accept that fact that he's just not here. I still jump when I get a text, not even discreetly texting since we're doing desk work, and feel a slight pang of disappointment when I see it's from Lucas.
Lucas: Is ford at world issues?
Ava: No, why?
Lucas: K
I wait a little more for a reply before literally groaning out loud when I don't get one.
Ava: WHY
Lucas: Attendance office asked me if he was in chem, I think they're gonna come by your class soon to check if hes there
Ava: So he didn't go home sick
Lucas: He probably skipped
Ava: Ford. Skipping.
Lucas: Ik, ik. you got any better ideas?
I don't reply to that, because truthfully? I don't.
Not as long as the others chapters, but I hope you enjoyed nonetheless! If you did, pleeeeeease be sure to leave a comment bc it would mean the world to me c: I love you all! (: xoxo