S e v e n t e e n : Fake Flirt
"Principal Blythe, may I speak to you for a minute?"
The puppet master looks over at me from where he's standing at the window. His fingers are curled around the vertical blinds like strings, and upon recognising me, he smiles. One by one, his fingers detach from the charcoal fabric, until it's finally released. The blinds flutter back into place hurriedly. I have his full attention.
"Ah, Erika. I trust you have some results for me?"
"Not exactly." I reply, grimacing. "I have a proposition for you."
Blythe, who was in the process of approaching me, falters in his steps. An accusatory frown creases his forehead. "Oh really? What might that be?"
Taking a deep breath, I step into his office just enough that the door clicks shut behind me. I don't move any further. My usual spot, the chair in front of his desk, sits familiar and unoccupied only a few feet away, but it stirs up bad memories of looking up into the intimidating eyes of a taller, older man. I think I'd rather face him on equal ground this time.
"I've come here because I want you to give Chase another chance," I say, as steadily as I can manage. My hands are clenched into balls at my sides. "I want you to give me the chance to prove to you that he doesn't deserve to be expelled."
The blinds slice shadow into the afternoon glow from the window, splaying stripes across the grey carpet. Blythe stares at me with disbelief for a few, torturous seconds. Then, slowly, he begins to smile. His smile grows more and more until it becomes dangerous. Angling his chin towards the ceiling, he chuckles darkly. The shadow halves his face.
"Of course. I should have known this would happen." His hand falls down onto the desk. "I saw it in your face the last time you came here."
Irritation seeps through me like a sickness. "I know what you think about me."
Slowly, Blythe's chuckling dies. When his grey eyes finally refocus on me, the humour has burned away and all that remain is ash grey. "And what's that?"
"You think I'm weak for allowing my emotions to disrupt this assignment."
He shakes his head, scoffing. "No, I just expected you to value your future more than a boy. Clearly, I overestimated your ambition."
"I value my integrity."
Blythe looks at me with dull curiosity, tapping his fingers against the desk as if counting down every remaining second of his patience for me. "That pride will affect your ability to seize opportunities, Miss Monroe."
"This isn't pride," I say firmly. "I am standing in front of you now, at the expense of my pride and my future, and asking you to give me a chance."
"A chance?"
"One chance." I nod once. "Let me show you that he deserves to stay, that he can improve and that you can trust him with the reputation of your school."
Blythe scoffs. "And you still expect to guarantee that place at Stanford, for this?"
"No," I force out. "I'm not stupid, I know this means that the reward is no longer on the table. I just want a letter of recommendation, like every other student applying. I can get into Stanford on my own. I'll work hard."
Blythe steps back and sinks down against the windowsill behind him, crushing the blinds flat against the glass pane. His knuckles clamp over the lip of wood that he rests on and he gazes forwards in consideration, seemingly without noticing that he's plunged the room into chilly shade. He sighs twice before he finally speaks.
"What is it that you see in this boy, Erika?"
My neutral expression suddenly becomes much harder to maintain. Articulating what I see in Chase Thatcher aloud is an impossible task when I can't even decipher it in my thoughts. I think about all the times that he's snapped at me. The time he abandoned me in The Admiral parking lot, the way he stalked away from me on the beach. Then I think about the cheesy polaroid of him hugging a teddy bear, the way he pulled his hoodie over me in the rain, the time he kissed the patch of eczema on my arm. My voice strains with unease.
"He's a good person, but he is...lost. He's acting out because he's hurting, but he just needs someone to show him that he's capable of more than this. He's loyal and trusting and a great friend to the people that matter to him. I haven't known him long...but I want to be the person that helps him to realise what great potential he has. Make him happy. I really do."
The Principal sighs again, unclenching his hands from the windowsill. Then, he uses them to push himself forwards into a standing position.
"Okay, fine. I'll give you a chance."
His face is clear and impassive, no hint of deceit. My vulnerable heart betrays my excitement with every resounding thump through my chest.
"Really?"
Blythe rolls his eyes. "Show me a noticeable improvement in the next few weeks and he can remain as a student."
I straighten my posture. "Thank you, Si-"
"But." Blythe holds up a finger to interrupt me. "If he makes no progress, I will tell you. You will then have three days to find me the evidence to expel him, and you will get it done this time. No more delaying."
"Okay," I rush out. "Yes, okay."
"I am not a patient man, Miss Monroe. I will not give you another chance."
"I understand that, Sir. Thank you. I will prove you right in this decision."
Before he can change his mind or add another clause to our verbal agreement, I am tumbling backwards out of the door as quickly as my feet can manage. The air of the reception is warm and light; an escape from the oppressive shadows of Principal Blythe's office. My breath escapes out of me in a rush of relief. I did it. I actually did it.
"How did it go?" Miko asks excitedly, seizing my arm. She's been sitting on one of the hard leather seats in the reception to wait for me, and is now looking up at me with eager, dark eyes. "Did he say that he would give Chase a second chance?"
The surge of relief through my chest explodes into my expression in the form of a beaming smile. I don't even need to speak the word for Miko to understand.
"Yes!" She jumps up to her feet, and the bubble-gum pink backpack she's wearing hits against her back with a thump. Oblivious, Miko loops an arm around my shoulders and squeezes me tight into her slender frame. She smells sweet and familiar, and the comfort of knowing that I've potentially saved Chase's school career floods through me again. My shoulders drop and I laugh. "I knew you could do it! You're incredible!"
"I feel like a weight has been lifted off me," I confess dazedly, allowing Miko to lead me out of the reception and back into the crowded halls of Lindale High. "I know I was awful for taking this job, but I can't help but be grateful that I did. Otherwise, he might already be gone and I just...don't want to think about that."
"That would really stink," Miko agrees, squeezing my shoulders tightly.
"What would stink?" Asks a smooth voice from beside me. Faltering in our steps, Miko and I twist around to see that Chase is leaning against the lockers that we've just passed. His head is tilted back lazily against the yellow metal. Miko quickly unloops her arm from my shoulders as if to remove association from the guilty party. Chase nods his head to the right, gesturing. "Did you two just come from the Principal's office?"
Panic seizes me, and it's all I can do to let my lips fall open. No explanation comes out. Luckily, Miko is already blurting words before my silence is noticeable.
"Um, yes, Erika got into trouble. Y'know, the plan an' all."
"You got into trouble?" Chase questions, looking at me. His curious, chocolate eyes seem to hold a new power to immobilise me, and my heart stutters in protest.
"She, um...let off a stink bomb."
His eyes flit back to Miko, wide with incredulity. "A stink bomb? Erika?"
"Yes," Miko continues, purposefully ignoring my vicious glare. "Our Literature teacher was in tears, the whole class had to evacuate. It was awful."
"Yes," I add, glaring holes into Miko's profile. My tone is dangerously sweet. "You would not believe my audacity."
Still avoiding my wrath, Miko swallows and tightens the grip on her backpack strap. She bounces lightly on the balls of her feet. "Anyway, I understand that you two have some things to talk about so um...cheerio, toodle-pip, as the kids say. I will see you both later."
Swerving around, she dances away into the clusters of people as quickly as her little feet can take her. I curse under my breath. She is going to pay for this.
"You set off a stink bomb in class?"
That infuriating, amused voice is suddenly much closer than before. I twist back around, my scowl exchanging itself for an innocent smile, to see that Chase is now standing only a few feet away from me. He's wearing a maroon sweatshirt and he's looking at me in that intense, inquisitive way again, like I'm the only thing he sees.
"No," I reply evenly, masking my face with seriousness. "It wasn't a stink bomb, Miko just let off a really bad fart. I felt bad for her, so I told everyone it was."
Chase's lips part in surprise.
"Did you not see how eager she was to run away?" I continue casually, masking my face with sympathy. "She doesn't want anyone to know the truth, bless her."
"I can't think why," Chase replies. His voice is light with laughter.
"You seem to be in a better mood today," I comment wryly, glancing down at my sandals and recalling his snappy tone on the beach. Slowly, I twist and resume walking in the direction that Miko and I were headed earlier; this time with Chase ambling alongside me. We're eating outside today, while the weather is still nice. Chase clears his throat.
"Yeah, about that-"
"It's cool," I interrupt, watching every slap of my sandals on the linoleum floor. "You don't need to say anything. I shouldn't have pressed."
"Erika," Chase groans lowly. His hand finds my forearm and with a sharp tug, he twists me around to a stop in front of him. I almost collide into his chest with the momentum but manage to steady myself just in time. When I look up, startled, his handsome face is looking down at me from close proximity- his lips soft, eyes softer still. "It upset you."
"I'm not upset," I argue. "I'm just tired."
"Okay." The right-hand corner of his mouth tugs up into that delicious half smile that sends tingles through my chest. "So, let me make it up to you?"
"What did you have in mind?"
"Get on." To my surprise, he turns around to show me his back. His arms are straight by his sides, ready to catch me as I jump up.
I splutter out a laugh. "Absolutely not."
"Get on my damn back, gorgeous."
"You'll drop me!"
He shakes his head, laughing. "Stop whining and get up."
Every aversion to the idea quickly dissolves into my desire to be carried by him, and with a breathless laugh, I launch myself up onto his back. His arms are prepared for the impact, looping under my thighs and holding me securely to his body. My hands slot over his strong shoulders instinctively, and as I press my body to the warmth of his sweater, I can feel the hard planes of muscle even beneath the cotton. He quickly adjusts me.
"You need to hold tighter," he mutters. "It won't be my fault if you fall."
Rolling my eyes, I slide my hands down from where they were tentatively clasped to his shoulders and loop them just below his neck. This one movement presses me even more tightly to his body, and my head rests on his shoulder with startling proximity to the side of his face. My legs tighten around his waist and he nods, satisfied.
"You're enjoying this too much, Squidge," I mutter, as he begins to walk.
He twists his head slightly to look up at me, just enough that I catch a glimpse of the wicked grin that's curving his mouth. Instead of denying it, he asks: "And you aren't?"
Touché.
My noise of complaint elicits another laugh from him as we step out of the corridor and into the afternoon sun on the courtyard. We're attracting our fair share of attention from other students, but I'm too content to care. The sun is warming my back deliciously.
"So, tell me," I tease, resting my cheek on my shoulder as I observe the side of his face. "Is this how you treat all the girls?"
"Funnily enough, no," Chase scoffs. "I don't act like a donkey with most people."
"I think you're more of an ass than a donkey," I comment lightly. "But seriously—you haven't given one of your dates a piggyback before?"
"Do you really think that my dates entail me carrying girls around all evening?"
"No, of course not." I roll my eyes. My thumb skims over his collarbone absent-mindedly and I can't help but notice his shiver. "But I guess I pictured your first dates as being all fun and flirtatious because that's just the kind of person you are. I mean, I'm only your friend and you made a whole damn firework display for me."
"That was different," Chase mumbles.
"Well, what does a date with you look like then?"
Chase stops walking. Before I can comprehend what's happening, he twists his head around to look at me over his shoulder. His face is so close that our noses are almost brushing, that our breath mingles, and I can taste caramel on the tip of my tongue. His decadent brown eyes are blazing hot and only inches away, and they melt away any coherent thought of mine instantaneously. Holy shit.
"Why?" He murmurs, cocking his head slightly. "You interested?"
I tear myself out of my reverie and force my head back, out of proximity, before I can want something stupid. Before I can do something stupid.
"I'm interested in how you've managed to charm the pants off so many girls," I say, as evenly as I can manage. "I want to know what your tricks are."
Chase releases a breathless laugh and faces forwards once more to continue walking. "I have no tricks. People just want what they can't have."
"You're saying they date you because they know it'll only be one date?"
He nods. "And they think that maybe they'll be the one to get the second."
"What do you actually do on the dates, then?" I ask curiously. My arms tighten around his neck again, and hesitantly, I return my head to its previous position above his shoulder. I know that it's unlikely that he'll surprise me again. That should make me feel safer, but instead, there's a stir of disappointment in my chest.
"Nothing special. Dinner, maybe. A walk around the park."
"That sounds..."
"Boring?"
"Unlike you," I correct, watching him with concern. He doesn't like to talk about himself and I don't want to push to the extent that he's uncomfortable. Slowly, his impassive, angular features begin to crease into a frown.
"It is unlike me," he confesses quietly. "I don't want to go on these dates, Erika."
"Why do you go on them, then?" My voice is soft. A bare murmur that wouldn't be audible if I wasn't so close to his ear.
He sighs. "Because I don't want to go home."
Almost as soon as the surprise has swelled within me, understanding follows.
"So, the one date only thing-"
"-is to stop people from hurting over me," Chase finishes, pressing his lips into a firm line. "Hearts don't break after one date. If people are going in with the expectation of it being one date only, they aren't as disappointed when it is."
I can only thank heaven that he can't see my facial expression right now, because I'm not sure I could reign in the softness, the tenderness and the empathy that is undoubtedly shining in my eyes. He goes on dates with so many people to keep himself busy. To keep him away from home. That's why he only goes on one date with them all- he isn't looking for a relationship, or even a fling. He's looking for an excuse to stay out of the house.
After a few seconds, I finally fathom words. "I wasn't expecting that."
"It's a bit sad, isn't it?" Chase replies, chuckling humourlessly. "I can only rely on my friends so much. They're busy, they have private lives and work which command their time. Going on dates helps with those times when I can't rely on Joe and the others, but I still don't want to go home."
The urge to kiss Chase is growing stronger by the second- clawing it's way up through my hammering chest and into my mouth- but I am forced to bite it back. Instead, I settle for pressing my forehead into his neck. The skin there is warm, and I close my eyes and try stupidly to convey how sorry I am through that small patch of contact.
"You can rely on me, Squidge."
Chase is silent for a few seconds, and the sounds of the school yard around us remind me that as intimate as this moment feels, we are not alone. I am grateful that I didn't kiss him.
Finally, he murmurs: "Thank you, gorgeous."
"If you ever want to avoid another boring date..." My voice strains. "I'm, um, here."
I lift my head away from his neck, cringing at how abhorrently uncomfortable that sentence was to say. I know Chase has picked up on it too, because that playful ring has returned to his voice, and he glances back at me.
"You just don't want me to go on another date."
I roll my eyes. "You caught me."
"Do those dates make you jealous, Erika?"
I'm almost relived at the return to our usual banter. As grateful as I am that Chase opened up to me, I'm so stiff and awkward when it comes to showing affection. This teasing, our teasing, is so comfortable that I can sink into it thoughtlessly.
"Flatter yourself much? I'm not jealous."
"Well, what are you then?"
"A homosapien," I respond flatly.
"Really?" Chase stops to shift me slightly up his back, releasing an exaggerated groan of effort. "Are you sure that you aren't something a little stockier? With a snout and a little curly tail? I mean, they call it a piggy-back for a reason..."
My mouth drops open and instinctively, I slap a palm against the centre of his back. It makes a harsh noise, but it wasn't hard enough to hurt him. Chase begins to laugh.
"You don't have to come up with a metaphor to call me Babe, Squidge. I know that you're dying to."
Chase glances back at me again with that heart-stopping grin that I'm getting so ridiculously accustomed to.
"I prefer gorgeous."
A/N: Hi lovelies, I'm so so sorry that I took so long to update! There's been a lot going on in my life at the moment, and the last couple of months have been ridiculously tough for me. I hope that you liked this chapter and that it (somewhat) made up for the wait! I will try to release the next one much quicker <3
I hope that you're all having a lovely festive period- whether you're someone that celebrates Christmas or Hanukkah, or someone who doesn't!
Lots of love,
Cherry x