“How do you know that his real name is Theo?” Georgie asks as she scrolls through her online social networks. Since arriving an hour ago, my best friend has been intent on helping me find Theo but so far, we haven’t turned up any leads. “Look, Cate…” Georgie turns to me with a defeated look on her face. “I don’t want to burst your fairy tale bubble or anything, but I’m getting a really bad vibe from this guy.”
Although I hated to admit it, I was starting to think the same thing. Georgie Sanderson was one of the most connected students at Capshaw Academy and if her Facebook, Twitter and Google+ profiles didn’t show up any results for Theo, then it was almost certain that he didn’t exist.
“He said his name was Theo,” I repeat the same sentence for the tenth time. “Why would he lie about his name?”
Georgie shrugs and tosses her cell aside. “Ok, let’s think more logically. Do you have our Year Books?”
I point towards my overcrowded book case. Being the socially awkward outcast, I had learnt over the years that books were a perfect form of escapism. Getting lost in stories was like therapy and each book on the shelves represented a ‘session.
“You need to get out more,” Georgie jokes as she starts scouring through the books. When she finally finds what she’s been looking for, she comes back to sit on the bed next to me. “I love Year Books,” she smiles as she cracks the spin of our freshman year’s Book. “It’s like a walk down memory lane. That, and a directory. Every student from our graduating class is listed in here. Every student except for your guy, apparently.”
She tosses aside the first book and reaches for the next. She flicks through the pages, grumbles when she doesn’t find Theo and throws that one aside too.
“He said he moved to live with his dad recently,” I remember some details of our closet conversations. “Maybe he transferred here at the start of Junior or senior year.”
“Now, that I can work with,” Georgie clicked her fingers together, took a Sharpie from my bed side table and started searching through our third Year Book. “Theo… Theo… Theo…”
While Georgie got to work on finding my mystery man, I took out my camera and searched through the photographs I had taken over Christmas break. For AP Photography, I had to create a portfolio of work and had chosen ‘Portraits’ as my theme. I had a strange fascination with people and you could tell a lot about a person just from looking at their face. Emotions seeped through- love, anger, pain, passion… they were all there. The subjects from my portfolio were brave, because Lord knows I could never let myself be that open and wear my emotions so publically.
“Christos Theoris,” Georgie announces much to my confusion.
“Who?” I ask, placing my camera on the floor and looking over Georgie’s shoulder. I looked at the photo she had circled and saw a boy with dark hair and brown eyes smiling out from the page. I look at the name under the photo but it doesn’t ring a bell. “Do you know who he is?”
“No idea,” she says with a shake of her head. “But if you give me your computer password and ten minutes, I can get you all the deets on this Greek God.”
I logged on to my laptop and left Georgie to do whatever it was she needed to do. I made my way to the kitchen and started rustling some dinner for us. My parents had taken Libby and David out for dinner before my soon-to-be brother-in-law had to take a red-eye back to Boston. Anna and Sawyer had gone back to San Francisco this morning.
As the world’s worst cook, I made the only thing that even I was incapable of messing up. I took out some white flour tortillas and sliced them into even strips, spread tomato pizza sauce along their lengths and sprinkled mozzarella cheese on top. After rolling them, I placed them in the oven to cook.
“Christos Theoris,” Georgie’s voice declared his name in a triumphant tone. “Eighteen years old, recently moved here from Chicago, Libra, and Greek on his paternal side, has a sister named Eleni and is the son of a newly appointed Silicon Valley CEO which means he has big bucks in the bank.
“Single,” Georgie winks at me. “He’s into sport and plays rugby. From the video on his YouTube page, it looks a little like football but not really. You’ll have to take a look for yourself because I can’t begin to explain it. Anyway, he’s six foot two and weighs two hundred and six pounds, most of which is muscle if his thighs are anything to go by.”
She stops talking for a moments. “What smells so good?”
I point to the oven and watch as my best friend takes out my offering. She deftly makes her way around my kitchen, grabbing plates from the cupboard and serving up the tortilla pizzas I’d made.
“He likes rock music and horror movies, so you have that in common,” Georgie continues as she pours herself a drink before handing me my plate. “He doesn’t have that many friends in Hastings and tends to go under the radar. I’m not sure if it’s a conscious choice on his half or what, but seriously, one look at him, and I would assume girls would be throwing themselves at him. Actually, on that note, how come I hadn’t noticed him until tonight? That boy is hot. Oh, and he’s in your math class.”
We’d just made it back to my room when Georgie had finished giving me the run down on this boy. My laptop was open on the bed and I notice Christos Theoris’ Facebook page is still up on the screen. I set my plate on the desk and reach out for the laptop. Georgie had been looking through Christos’ photos when she came down to get me, and seeing the one of him in his rugby uniform, I could see what Georgie had meant about his thighs.
I was about to log off Georgie’s account when I noticed that she had been logged in as me. A little red flag appeared on my notification feed, followed by the words ‘YOU AND CHRISTOS THEORIS ARE NOW FRIENDS.’ I blink at the words on the screen and then look up at Georgie accusingly.
“What did you do?” I ask, turning the screen to show her what I was talking about. “You sent him a friend request from my profile? I don’t even know who he…”
Is this the same Cate Westbrook that sits in front of me in AP Calc?
“Is that him?” Georgie perks up when she hears my messenger ping. I glare at her, but she just shrugs it off. “Don’t look at me like that. Talk to him and see if he’s The One. If he is, dibs on being maid of honor at the wedding.”
I stare at the message for a few minutes longer, my fingers hovering over the keyboards as I think of a response. To say that I’m only socially inept when I’m face to face with people would be an understatement. I’m socially inept everywhere. Including on Facebook.
“What do I say?” I look to Georgie for advice. She mumbles something through her mouthful of food, and I frown. “That was attractive. And really unhelpful.”
That depends. I type back. Is this the same Christos Theoris that sits behind me in AP Calc?
I hit the send button and then throw back my head and groan. Georgie came over to read my reply and patted me on the shoulder as a smile formed on her lips. She bent down to give me a hug from behind and giggled.
“Catherine Louise Westbrook,” she laughed out my name. “Look at you flirting with a stranger. I am so proud of you.”
I didn’t think you knew who I was. Christos typed to me. We’ve been in the same class since September and we’ve never spoken.
I shrugged and then realized that he couldn’t see me. “Hey, Georgie? How do you do that thing on here that tells people that you’ve shrugged even though they can’t see you shrug?”
“Seriously?” Georgie snorted. She reached over me, typed out a few buttons and then patted me patronizingly on the head. “You have much to learn. Lucky for you, I am a great teacher.”
*shrugs* New Year’s Resolution? I offer as an answer.
Your New Year’s resolution was to talk to me? I read his response.
No… yes… kinda? I accidentally hit send. Ignore that last message. It made zero sense.
*laughs* Cate Westbrook? Christos typed out my name. Wanna know what my New Year’s resolution was?
“He’s asking if I want to know what his New Year’s resolution is,” I tell Georgie. She shoots me an amused smile. “Don’t ask. What do I say? Do I want to know?”
“I don’t know,” my useless best friend shrugs and resumes texting on her cell. “Your call, Cate.”
Sure. I answer, biting my lip with anticipation.
Talk to the cute red head that sits in front of me in Calc.
*~*~*
My friends all stare at me, each wearing their own version of confusion on their faces. I hadn’t wanted to involve all of my friends in the search for Catherine, but three and a half days in, and I’m still no closer to working our who she is. I needed reinforcements and whether I liked it or not, I needed my friends.
“You like a girl?” Dean Brewer was the first to speak. “For real?”
I groan. “Why the Hell are you here, Brewer?”
Dean Brewer and I were not friends. We were friends by association and I only just tolerated him, but he was cousins with Colton Spiller, and Spiller and I go way back. All the way back to kindergarten, actually. Spiller and Grey knew me better than I knew myself at times, and if keeping Spiller’s friendship meant hanging out with Brewer every now and then, then so be it.
“Dean, shut up,” Spiller warned his cousin. “But, he has a point here, TJ. You like a girl?”
Ah, now I understood everyone’s confusion.
I’ve never been interested in a girl beyond the initial flirtation and a one night stand. My past relationships, if you can call them that, have been fleeting and very rarely do I like a girl enough to talk about her to my friends. Hearing me speak about Catherine has thrown my friends for a loop and they’re all probably wondering what’s going on.
“Are you sick?” Bryce Reimer asks, moving forward to place the back of his hand against my forehead. I swat his hand away and he laughs. “Chill, Rushing, it was just a joke. Who is the girl, then?”
“Catherine,” I say her name with a smile on my lips. “Her name is Catherine.”
Silence.
“Which one?” Zachary Adkins asks with anticipation. When I don’t answer he looks to Grey and then at Spiller. “You do know there are eight Catherine’s in our class, right? Which one is your one?”
Ok, so I might not have been as forthcoming as I should have been when I gathered my inner circle at my dad’s place. We were in the den, which doubled up as a game’s room for my step-brother’s and I. Dad and Amanda had taken Elliott and Noah over to their father’s place, so it was just me and the guys at home.
We’d set up camp in the den so that we could all fit in to one room, and so that Brewer could be kept occupied by the air hockey machine in the corner. Admittedly, that plan had backfired because he was very much a part of the conversation, but at least Landon was having fun playing pool all by himself.
“Yeah, that’s the other thing,” Grey smirks. I hated it when Grey got like this, all superior and arrogant. It always led to trouble. “Tell them about the closet?”
“You had sex in a closet?” Brewer spat out his soda as he asked the question.
I stood up and walked over to where Brewer stood. I was at least three inches taller than him and outweighed him easily, meaning that, if I was so inclined, I’m pretty sure I could kill him with my bare hands.
“Take a walk,” I growl at him. Thankfully, he does as he’s told, and a few minutes later, I hear him raiding the cupboards in the kitchen. “Could someone-”
“I’m on it,” Grey laughs as he gets up to go babysit Brewer. “I already know the story.”
I took almost an hour to tell Spiller about Catherine. Half way through, Bryce and Landon got hungry and followed their stomachs to the kitchen. Zach zoned in and out, asking questions every now and then, but other than that, my friends took the story of how Catherine and I met in their stride. When I was done, both my friends said nothing.
“So, what you’re saying,” Spiller said slowly, “is that you want our help in finding a girl, but all we have to go on is a name?”
I nod. “Yes. Catherine.”
“But there are eight Catherine’s in our class,” Zachary reminds me. Just for effect, he holds up eight fingers. “Eight. And you want us to narrow it down to one?”
“No,” I sigh, already tired of their defeatist attitude. “I want you to help me narrow it down to The One.”
“What I am about to say, I say from a place of love,” Spiller laughs. “But you are screwed. Like, seriously screwed. Theo-” Spiller only ever uses my real name when he’s being serious. “-Maybe you should cut your losses now before you get hurt. You’ve never been one of these ‘relationship’ kinds of guy so you don’t know what it feels like to get your heart stomped all over, but it doesn’t end well.”
Colton Spiller used to date the captain of the cheer squad. They had been together for three years before Harper decided that she wanted to ‘play the field’ before college. To say that Spiller was devastated would be an understatement, but he was the only one who could give me an insight into what I might be getting myself into.
“Colt,” I do him the honor of calling him by his real name. “I get that Harper hurt you, but Catherine isn’t like that. I know what I’m getting myself into and I can’t wait to fall in love with her all over again, but first I need to find her. You’re my friend, Colt. Please, help me.”
“Fine,” he grumbles, but manages to smile encouragingly at me. “If only because you said ‘please.’”
We looked over Genevieve’s eleven-point plan, and soon enough between Zachary and Spiller, we had created a list of the Catherine’s in our class. Just for good measure, the guys added all the Cathy’s, Cate’s and Cat’s that we could think of, although I still maintain that it was pointless. We were looking for a Catherine… she would have said if her name was Cathy, Cate or Cat. I was on a limited time limit and I wasn’t going to waste it following false leads.
We stick to the Catherine’s only.
“Georgie said to date them, right?” Zachary asked as he stared down at the list of names. I nod in response and watch as he purses his lips. “In that case, let’s start with Catherine Saunders.”
The name was familiar. Catherine Saunders was the captain of the debate team and was well known around Capshaw as being a ballbuster. I knew that my Catherine wasn’t Catherine Saunders, but like Catherine said in the closet, the girl she pretended to be out in the big bad world, wasn’t the girl she really was. Maybe if I applied that logic to Catherine Saunders, she could be the one I’m looking for.
I search for Catherine Saunders’ online profile and click on her picture. She was short, had dark hair and green eyes, and looked like she wasn’t anyone’s fool. I noticed that she was online and I clicked open the messenger.
Hi, Catherine. Wuu2? I type out.
When she doesn’t reply, I start to wonder if the informal text-speak was a step too far, but just as I went to type out another message, messenger pinged at me.
Did you click on the wrong person? Catherine wrote back.
No :) I wntd 2 msg u. I look over my answer, thought the smiley face was a bit too much, but hit send anyway.
Did u fall n hit ur head? I laugh at the attitude she gave me. I was already 99% sure that Catherine Saunders wasn’t the girl I was looking for, but at least she was fun. What do u want, Rushing?
Sit w/ me @ lnch tmoz. I tell her, rather than ask her.
Did Hell freeze over?
“Hey, guys?” I call over the Spiller and Zachary. “If it doesn’t work out with me and Saunders, I think I could play cupid for her and Brewer. This girl takes no prisoners.”
“That’s my cousin you’re talking about,” Spiller says, before considering his words. He shakes his head and laughs. “Can’t believe I said that. Dean and Catherine Saunders… that would be fun to see.”
No, Catherine. Hell did not freeze over. I write out in full words. So, tmoz? Lnch?
Fine. She types back. Bt only bc I’m intrigued.
Haha… who uses words like 'intrigued' day-to-day? Wait… didn’t Catherine use some pretty big words in the closet?
Me too. I find myself writing. Do you by any chance know what a twenty sided shape is called?
*~*~*
I'm gonna continue with the dual POVs because you asked... ask and you shall receive. Hope you like it! On the side is a video comparing American Football to Rugby- up to you if you wanna watch it, but I warn you, it's like 11 minutes long! There's also a photo of a Welsh rugby player called Geroge North... He's currently serving as my inspiration for Christos (not in looks, just physicality). Sarah, xx
p.s. My friend has got me obsessed with Arrow, and I've been telling myself that I'm not allowed to watch any more episodes until I get this chapter done! Yay me! Arrow, here I come :)