Chapter 8// Malicious chair legs
“If you just pull in here, that should be fine thanks Lois.”
Jennifer points out the windscreen towards a sign post parked conveniently in front of a sprawling urban household. The shutters are a deep chestnut brown, and the entire house is covered with wide windows showing sneak peeks of the glamorously decorated interior. Jennifer asked me this morning if I could potentially drop her off to visit her friend for the day, and looking at this house, said friend is some kind of a millionaire as well. Okay, so maybe I’m exaggerating a little on the millionaire front, but the house is huge. I pull up neatly on the sidewalk, taking great precaution not to damage my paintwork as I edge past the signpost: I hardly need to broadcast my lack of driving skill any more than I have done already.
“I’ll grab the wheelchair Jesse,” I say, meeting his eyes in the wind mirror. “You work on getting Jennifer out.” After Jesse nods, I unclick my seatbelt and make my way out of the car, jogging around the cherry red sides towards the boot. I’m getting better and better at assembling this wheelchair, and at the speed of light I have the chair assembled and waiting for Jennifer at the car door as Jesse lifts her out. He’s lifted her into an awkward sagged bridal lift, with her cast straightened across his forearm. Straining with effort, Jesse leans forward to place Jennifer carefully in the wheelchair, although for Jennifer it doesn’t seem careful at all. She’s dropped the last few inches quite suddenly as Jesse loses his balance, and ends up with both legs slung over the right arm rest. She shoots an unimpressed look at Jesse, and huffs, swinging her legs into the correct position.
“What’s your friend’s name?” I ask conversationally, taking hold of the handles to push Jennifer up the long stone drive towards the house. I’ve built up the idea in my head that she’s a very posh British lady with some really posh name and title. How much of that will actually be true, I guess I’ll find out. “Is she British?”
“Her name is Rachel, and no she’s not British,” Jennifer gives me a strange look. She’s made a special effort today: wearing a loose fitting dress which manages to cover the top part of her cast quite considerably. Her hair, curled and hanging around her shoulders in angelic ringlets, bounces when she laughs. “She has a nice house doesn’t she? Maybe I should stay here all the time.”
“Can I join you?” I smile wryly. I stop at the door, letting go of Jennifer and bounding up the steps to press the doorbell. Suddenly my hoodie and leggings seem drastically scruffy- what on earth is the woman who opens the door going to think of me? And the worst part is, I haven’t got a fractured femur to blame my bad dress sense on.
Before me, the door swings open and a well dressed woman beams down on us. “Jennifer darling! How are you feeling?” Rachel’s hair is twisted upwards in a stylish chiffon, and her clothes are immaculate and no doubt expensive. Her steely cold eyes turn to me, running up and down the length of my body, and squinting slightly in disapproval. “Ah I see you’ve bought a friend. Who might you be?” She asks politely, although the distaste is coloured into her voice. I shift awkwardly, and push Jennifer forwards to hide me somewhat.
“This is Lois,” Jennifer turns her head to smile at me, “She gave me the ride here. She’s one of Jesse’s friends.”
“Lovely. Well I’m afraid we haven’t got enough food for a third person- I’m sorry about that,” Rachel replies rudely. “Now Jennifer, come on, let’s get you inside. You must be freezing out there with only a dress on!”
Well maybe. Apart from the minor detail, y’know, that it is in fact summer. My eyes narrow slightly: I don’t like this snobby woman one bit.
“Er sure,” Jennifer replies, puzzled. “Lois, could you give me a hand?”
I nod and tilt Jennifer’s wheelchair onto its hind wheels, using all of my non-existent strength to push her up the steps and through the doorway. “Have a good day Jennifer. Just text me when you want me to pick you up,” I smile and she nods. “Bye Rachel,” I nod politely. Rachel doesn’t comment, but gives me a dirty look. I make my way back down the driveway towards Jesse, fuming slightly at the rudeness of this Rachel woman. I don’t understand- how could somebody as sweet as Jennifer ever want to associate with such a snobby, stereotypical rich woman? Is that it- does Rachel just not like me because I’m wearing a hoodie and leggings in her honoured presence or what? I may be dressed comfortably, but that says nothing about what kind of a person I am. I could be the richest girl alive, and she’d never know. I slide into the car and slam the door, ignoring the curious face of Jesse sat in the passenger seat. Without saying anything, I turn on the ignition and pull away.
After a few seconds of silence, Jesse speaks to me. “She’s evil, isn’t she?”
“What?” I glance at him, caught off-guard. I’m calming down ever so slightly now that we’ve pulled away, but I tell you what: Jesse is getting out to fetch Jennifer when we come to pick her up. I’ll be the one staying in the car.
“Rachel. She’s evil. She used to babysit me when I was younger- she’s one of mom’s friends from college,” Jesse informs me. “I’ve never liked her and I don’t think Mom does either, but they’ve been friends for so long now that mom thinks it’s rude if she tries to drift away.” My eyebrows shoot upwards at this: I was not expecting that. I take the familiar left turns towards the beach café and my work shift, slowing down ever so slightly so that I can talk to Jesse for longer.
“Your mom is too polite,” I sigh, “Two seconds with that woman and I already wanted to slap her. I mean, all she did was look at my hoodie and leggings and she decided she didn’t-“
“Oh that’s not why she doesn’t like you,” Jesse interrupts, shaking his head. “She just absolutely detests teenagers. She treats me the same way, even though I practically grew up with her close to me. She’s incredibly stereotypical- thinks the worst of all people in our age group.” I look over at him, with my jaw gaping in surprise. Wow, just because one person our age did something wrong, it’s assumed that the whole age group are obnoxious gangsters? I don’t quite see how that’s fair. I mean, I’m the kind of teenager that smiles at old ladies when I pass them in the street.
“She sounds like a cow.”
“She is,” Jesse shrugs, leaning forward to place his hands on the dashboard. “Where are we going?”
“The beach café,” I reply, “Are you okay with that? I can drop you home if you want, but I’ve got a shift to go to.” I glance over at Jesse, but he shakes his head assuredly, curls ruffling slightly.
“Nah, don’t worry. I can call my friends, this would be a great time to introduce them to you.” Jesse seems to think nothing of this remark, turning away from me to look out of the window at the passing scenery, but his comment is enough to make my heart skip a beat. Today? On my work shift? He’s got to be joking, right? I thought we’d meet at Jesse’s house or something, not in the middle of the café while I’m wearing a freaking apron and no makeup! If I’m trying to get on the wavelength of the most popular, glamorous girls in school, comfy clothes and a job are not the way to do it.
“Something wrong?” Jesse asks me, and I shake my head but inside I’m panicking. Maybe I could try and fix my hair in my break? I haven’t got any mascara, but Heather could have some. I could trade outfits with her, maybe? I really hope she’s wearing something my size today. Unlike my tall and uncomfortably slender figure, Heather is short with all of the curves I crave for. She can get away with crop tops and figure-hugging outfits, whereas I just look like a kid trying on my mom’s clothes.
“I hardly look the part,” I mumble weakly, realising that I’m basically screwed on the idea of fitting in with Rita and her friends.
Jesse raises his eyebrows, and looks me up and down painfully slowly. “You look fine. Besides, they won’t be looking at what you’re wearing or how much makeup you have on. Billie is your living proof of that: she spends her life in band t-shirts and sneakers. They’ll look at how you act,” Jesse explains, “If they see confidence, you’ll spark their interest. The whole homeless look could work in your favour.”
“Homeless look?” My face flattens and irritation seeps into my voice.
“Yeah,” Jesse says, completely ignoring the offence I’ve taken to the comment. “If you act just as confident without make-up on as you do with it on, you’ll fit right in.”
“Right,” I scoff.
“I think you seem to think that they’re horrible people- they’re really not,” Jesse analyses me curiously. “If you’re nice to them, they’ll like you. Simple as. They’re not the Plastics from Mean Girls or anything.” He turns to look out of the window casually, but I struggle to restrain my shock as I register what he just said.
I spin my head around to look at Jesse, my jaw lapsing. “You’ve watched Mean Girls?”
“Of course,” Jesse rolls his eyes coolly, but his cheeks portray a different image. “It’s my favourite film obviously.” Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit.
“My favourite film is the Fault in our stars,” I shrug, “Have you watched that?”
“Of course,” Jesse scoffs.
“What’s your favourite part then?” I raise my eyebrows, slowing down the car as I enter the café parking lot, eyes darting around for a space. I don’t believe for a second that Jesse has watched the Fault in Our Stars. Not only because jock going to see a love story film about two teenagers with cancer would defeat a fair few stereotypes, but the way he scoffed when he said it was a complete giveaway.
“My favourite part of the Fault in Our Stars…” Jesse struggles, “It’s probably the, um, part where Augustus falls into the chocolate river and gets sucked up that tube thing.”
It takes me a second to let that sink in, and to Jesse’s embarrassment, I burst into laughter.
<><><><><>
I enter the café with a knot in my stomach about meeting Rita and her friends, my reassurance from Jesse disintegrating by the second. However, that knot immediately dissolves the moment that I spot Heather and Adam leant over the empty counter, chatting. My friends will help me get through this. They’ll tell me what to do, how to act. Barely mumbling a goodbye to Jesse, I make my way over to them hastily. Heather spots me coming, and straightens up from the counter, grinning. “Look at what the cat dragged in,” She sneers teasingly. “Hey there stranger,” She pulls me in for a hug and I sink into her embrace: craving the comfort.
“Hey,” I pull back with a troubled expression, offering a weak smile at Adam. “What am I doing today?” In answer, Adam raises a damp cloth and a spray bottle. Wiping the tables, then. “Erm, Adam, would it be okay if I took a half an hour break in the middle of my shift? I’ll work extra at the end. I just have something to do today,” I glance over at Jesse as he greets the rest of his group. Rita, Billie and Sophie are sprawled across the sofa seat, sipping at milkshakes and laughing. The mere sight of them makes my stomach sink. How in the hell is this ever going to work? Jesse must be delusional.
Heather follows my anxious gaze, and her eyes widen in realisation. “Jesse wants you to meet Rita and the others today doesn’t he? I completely forgot.”
I nod weakly, slumping against the granite counter.
“Don’t worry about it,” Adam rolls his gorgeously gay eyes. “You’ll be fine: just act normally and they’re bound to like you. You can take a half an hour break, but I want you to work it off at the end of the shift, okay?” He stretches the cloth tauntingly in his hand, before slapping it into my hand with a warning look. I nod and smile gratefully, but the smile disappears as I realise something.
“Wait, did Heather tell you about what Jesse asked me to do then?”
“Yeah,” He awkwardly glances at Heather, “Was that okay?”
“Yeah it’s fine, don’t worry,” I reassure him, “It just saves the job of me telling you myself. Heather,” I turn to my best friend, “Do you happen to have any mascara?”
“Not with me,” She bites her lip, “Why?”
“I’m so screwed.”
<><><><><>
After an hour of procrastination, the time finally comes when Jesse calls me over to his table.
“Lois?” Jesse turns in his seat and smiles reassuringly at me, despite calling me over to my inevitable fate. I falter as my damp cloth leaves the table, and my eyes shoot up to look at him, wide with fear. “Come over here a second,” He beckons me over and I release a shaky breath. This is it Lois. Don’t make a fool out of yourself: just act normal. I pull on a smile and start to walk over to the table that’s always intimidated me. Ben is sat there, and he grins at me, meanwhile Everett is giving me curious looks. Every single one of the group is staring at me as I get closer, but of course being me, I haven’t even started speaking to any of them before I humiliate myself beyond compare.
The malicious chair leg came out of nowhere, I promise you.
Accidentally hooking my foot around the metal bar of someone’s seat, I lurch forward and fall to the ground, landing painfully on my arm. The pain means nothing though, next to the embarrassment of the fall. My cheeks instantly flood crimson, and I continue to lie there for a second begging that the ground will swallow me whole. Everett’s laughter is the loudest, but they’re all chuckling at my obvious misfortune. I push myself up to a sitting position, apologise to the old man sat in the chair which I tripped over, and turn to face the group, chuckling slightly. Maybe if I join in their laughter, it’ll feel less like they’re laughing at me and more like they’re laughing with me. Jesse, chuckling climbs out of his chair and pulls me up, slinging an arm around my shoulder and dragging me the short few steps to the popular table. The humiliation of the situation is almost masked by the fact that Jesse freaking Dales has his arm around me, but not quite.
“This is Lois,” He introduces the group gruffly, and their laughter dies down a little. “Quite possibly the clumsiest girl alive.” He smirks at me from the corner of my eye.
“Nice one Lois,” Ben grins at me, offering up a fist. Immediately I feel a little more relieved at the idea of having Ben there: I know for sure that I can think of him as a friend at least. With a cracked smile in return, I fist bump him and things feel a little bit better. At least I know Ben will diffuse the tension. Or maybe not, because after a second of hesitation the awkwardness kicks in. Jesse leaves my side to pull me over a free chair, and I tuck a loose curl behind my ear. Do I shake the girl’s hands or would that be too formal and weird?
Luckily, Everett comes to my rescue.
“Lo, this is Billie, Sophie and Rita,” He introduces us with a sigh, and I turn to the girls I’m so intimidated yet awed by, smiling. Billie grins at me, grabbing the chair from Jesse and sliding it next to her own seat. Sophie’s smile is also reassuring, but Rita is too busy texting to even pay attention.
“Come sit down, Lois,” Billie insists, “You’re Everett’s twin sister, right?”
Grateful for the friendliness, I slide into the seat and turn to face Billie. “Unfortunately,” I reply wryly, glancing over at my horrified brother. My heart is thudding loudly inside my chest: I shouldn’t be so afraid of confrontation! Everett begins to protest at my jab, but he’s interrupted by the chiming laughter of Sophie.
“Nice to meet you Lois,” Sophie smiles. Her steely grey eyes are enough to make any girl jealous, and her hair is golden, thick and frizzy. She’s arguably the prettiest girl in school, but most boys already know where they stand with her so they don’t even try to make a move. Sophie moved from Texas a couple of years back, and her boyfriend Brendan still lives there. He’s rumoured to be some kind of a weightlifter, which deters a lot of Sophie’s admirers.
“Nice to meet you too,” I greet. Okay so introductions have been made. Spark a conversation. Compliment her. Say something! “Oh, um, your hair is so pretty,” I compliment, eyeing the golden locks. “I wish my hair was that curly. My hair just…doesn’t really do anything.” I flip a strand idly to emphasise my point. It just falls straight back to where it was before. It looks the same every day, and no styling ever really works for more than a couple of hours.
“Really?” Sophie sounds surprised at the compliment. “You don’t want my hair, trust me. It’s a nightmare to tame in the mornings. Look at how thick it is.” She leans forward to show me.
“Tuning out now,” Billie puts her fingers to her ears, “I don’t do hair and makeup chats I’m afraid.”
“Billie,” Sophie slaps her fondly, “Stop being such a tomboy. All she did was compliment me.” Billie sticks her tongue out in reply, crossing her arms and slumping in her chair. I laugh shyly at the teasing they exchange, before it hits me that this isn’t going as badly as I thought it would go. Maybe this actually could work. Time to strike up a conversation with Billie; and I have the perfect idea.
“So Ben and Jesse tell me you’re a legend at COD,” I grin, glancing over at the boys. They perk up at the sound of their names being mentioned, and Ben whoops as he realises the conversation topic. Billie raises an eyebrow at my statement, her lips curling into a smirk.
“What of it?” Her kohl lined eyes flash with realisation. “Don’t tell me you play COD too?”
I go to reply but Everett beats me to it. “She’s good, Billie. You might have a fair match on your hands. I don’t know what it is: her reflexes are just awesome.” Blushing slightly at the interest I seem to have sparked by the topic change, I shift in my chair. Curious eyes watch me. They probably couldn’t imagine that shy little Lois would like what is known stereotypically as a ‘boys game’. In the corner, Rita is still typing in frustration, a small indent forming between her perfectly groomed brows. She doesn’t seem to have realised of my presence yet. That’s a little bit awkward.
“We’ll have to have a game sometime,” Billie grins, offering me a hand to shake and snapping me out of my thoughts. Jesse and Ben are whispering in the background, and I can hear them taking bets. A shudder of anxiety shoots down my spine, and I lean forward to shake Billie’s hand with excitement. I can beat her! I’ll just have to practice a bit more, is all. Besides, how good can she really be at COD if she plays all those other games as well? I only really play Call of Duty.
“Game on,” I say confidently. Where this new persona is coming from, I have no idea. It’s not in my nature to challenge anyone: I’m quiet, shy Lois. Backed up by Jesse, Ben and Everett though, I seem to be turning into a whole other person. I think I like this. I glance back at Heather, serving a woman with two kids at the counter, but Billie catches my attention again before I can offer Heather a smile. “Rita,” Billie says slyly, disturbing the red haired princess from texting. “This is Lois, Everett’s sister. Quit texting and acknowledge her existence, won’t you?” Rita looks up and examines me with cat-like blue eyes, before a small smile comes to rest on her lips.
“Nice to meet you Lois,” She dismisses me, before turning to face the others. Obviously I’m not worth our time. “Guys, this guy Jamie wants me to come over tonight- what do I say to him?” She leans forward excitedly, tilting her phone to show Sophie the messages. I suddenly begin to feel alone in that moment. Here I was thinking I could be friends with these people, but they’re obviously too close already. I may have intrigued Billie, but it’s clear that Rita’s not interested in the slightest. I swallow a hard lump in my throat and glance over at Jesse, but he’s too submerged in his own conversation with Ben to notice me.
“What do you think, Lois?” Sophie asks me, breaking me out of my thought stream. “Should she meet up with him tonight?” Rita eyes me curiously, almost daring me to say the wrong answer.
“Well do you like him?” I ask awkwardly.
Rita looks surprised that I asked such a simple question. “Well yeah, I guess. But he’s kind of been hot and cold recently. Like, we get together and we have the best time but then he doesn’t speak to me for weeks until he wants me again,” Rita sighs and throws her hands in her lap. “Why do guys always treat me like dirt?”
“You fall for the player guys,” Sophie points out, shrugging. “Maybe you need to find a new type. You keep getting hurt over the boys you go for now.”
Rita sighs.
“Well the um, impression I’m getting,” I say, trying to spark up conversation again. “Is that you like this guy quite a lot. So why don’t you go tonight but set down some ground rules. Like, take control. Tell him if he wants you, he’s going to need to work a little harder for it, date you even. You don’t deserve to be used like that,” I explain. My voice cracks towards the end of the sentence as I realise that the others are watching me, slightly shocked at my little outburst, and I instantly begin to feel embarrassed and awkward. “I-I’m sorry,” I stutter, “It’s really none of my business.” I fold my hands into my lap and stare at them, cheeks burning.
“No, you’re right,” Rita says quietly, and I glance up at her in surprise. She’s huddled in concentration, but her voice is louder and more reassuring as she looks over at Sophie. “She’s right. I shouldn’t be getting used like this, it’s not right. I’ll confront him tonight. Thank you Lois,” Rita glances over at me and there’s an almost a slight respect in her eyes, which makes me surge with pride. I can’t believe I haven’t screwed this up yet- Rita Hall doesn’t hate my guts!
“Y’know Lois,” Sophie glances either side at Billie and Rita, “We’re all going shopping tomorrow, if you wanted to come with us.”
“Really?” I ask, before calming down slightly. “Um, yeah sure that sounds cool, thanks.” I smile at Sophie, deciding that I actually really like her: she’s so friendly. When I imagined these girls before now, I kind of got the impression of the Plastics from mean girls, y’know the dumb, rich blondes. They’re actually a lot nicer, and a lot more normal than I thought they’d be. This plan could actually work- I can’t wait to tell Jesse.
“Cool beans,” Billie smirks, “Now that all that’s clarified, I’m thirsty. Milkshakes, anyone?”
I catch eyes with Jesse from across the table and beam at him, not able to restrain my happiness at how well this encounter has gone. He smiles back and nods, his hair flopping into his eyes. “Told you,” He mimes, and a flurry of butterflies, no hornets, attack the lining of my stomach. My cheeks flush with happiness.
And that was the moment I decided that this plan could work in my benefit after all.
Hey guys, I have something to talk to you about...Wow, I'm actually kind of nervous.
I'm not sure whether it's the right thing to do to continue with this book.There, I said it.
I don't know if it's just me who sees this, but it feels like nobody likes this book as much as they did TBBSMB, and I feel like this book is a shadow from my last one. If nobody likes it, what's the point of using so much of my time in exam year to continue with it? I want to hear your thoughts, because honestly I can't make sense of my own right now. I write because I love it, and because you guys seem to enjoy my writing. But if you guys don't enjoy it, and I'm running out of time for my hobbies due to exams: what is the point in carrying on?
Leave a comment telling me what you think. I just wanted to be truthful with you all <3