Everybody's Somebody Page 2

  “Seriously? Jamie...” Candace started to whine. “Come sit with us, you don’t wanna be seen near...that.”

  I heard a sigh. “Fuck off , Candace. Your voice is making my ears bleed. I’d honestly rather sit here than sit anywhere near you so mind your own fucking business.” After her outraged gasp, she didn’t have a retort.

  I do not know why things were different that day, they just were. He didn’t usually sit near the front and definitely never that close to me. But most importantly, never, not ever, in my entire life, has anyone ever stood up for me. It was fleeting, and I suppose it wasn’t just for me. But I was sure that was what he had done. I memorised it, locked it up tight, and I cherished it.

  Chapter two

  Dreaming.

  Mr Hamilton, my psychology professor, shuffled into the classroom five minutes after the bell had gone. This was a regular occurrence, him being late, different rules for teachers didn’t you know? Hmmm, I beg to differ, but then, nobody cares what I think.

  He looked different that day though, almost, nervous? Actually, he looked more than nervous; he looked like he was bracing himself for an attack, or something thereabouts. I sat on this for a moment, lost in my own thoughts, wondering what he was nervous about...I didn’t have to wonder for long.

  “Afternoon students, hope you all are well?” Without waiting for a response, he continued “As you were aware, this afternoon is the day you will be receiving your assignment brief. This is an assignment to be worked by two people. Both members of the partnership will provide equal amounts of research, analysis and general amount of effort put in. Obviously, if discovered otherwise then penalties will be awarded.”

  There were excited whisperings behind me, people thinking their job would be half as difficult with someone else to help shoulder the load. I was not fooled, in any way. Joint projects just mean the workload is increased and you have to drag someone along with you. You have to organise your studying time around when they are available and their work, associated with your work, always affects your grade. I wasn’t impressed with this, but still, I glanced around the room wondering who else would be left until last without a partner, thus ensure that they were saddled with me. Whilst I was pondering this, Mr Hamilton explained more.

  “Now, of course you are aware that the usual protocol states students can choose their own person to partner with. However, as you will see in your assignment brief, which is being handed around as I speak, this assignment differs from standard protocol. As this is a study of mental reactions to unfamiliar, stressful or uncomfortable situations, you have all been assigned partners. You will be required to choose one or two social psychological theories and analyse them using real life situations in regards to your chosen portfolio title on the module.”

  An audible groan was heard throughout the room as everyone considered the implications of his words. Unfamiliar, stressful and uncomfortable? Oh no. That could only mean one thing, and it did. We were going to be assigned partners with those whom it was known that we didn’t associate with. Shoot. I was perfectly aware of the fact that the scenario was not as bad for me as it was for others in the room, this being because I didn’t associate with anyone, so most people were unfamiliar and uncomfortable for me, regardless.

  He began reading out the names of students in the class, along with their assigned partner. I instantly breathed out a sigh of relief when all three of the people I despised we’re assigned to different people. I could deal with anyone else because I’d just ignore them, but no one could ignore Braden, Candice or Harvey.

  When I heard my name, I didn’t even glance up at the teacher, there was no point. I’d do all the work and just hand them half of it anyway. I wouldn’t risk my perfect grades on the off chance someone else could hold up their end of the bargain. So Mr Hamilton read my name, then he paused as if he was preparing either myself, or my partner for the bad news. I could only assume he was preparing my partner, seeing as both the people I truly despised had already been partnered up elsewhere. Then he took a deep breath threw his nose, and blew it out his mouth before reading...Jamie Travis.

  Snickering automatically broke out around me but I was frozen, pen still in my mouth from biting on the end of it, a nervous habit of mine, hand halfway up to reach for it. I...just...froze.

  Oh no...

  Oh no!

  With most people I can handle giving, the blasé, nonchalant, you-mean-nothing-to-me look...I perfected it. But with Jamie? I just knew I was going to end up some chattering, nervous, pathetic waste of space around him.

  “Ha! Bad luck, Jay!” I heard Harvey say.

  Idiot.

  I glanced over my shoulder and Jamie’s eyes were on me, he didn’t look nervous or well...anything really, as if it was no big deal to him.

  I was sure he could see the sheer panic written all over my face because for the first time ever...he winked at me.

  He winked at me!

  I gave him a brief lip-twitch to try and disguise my internal panic before turning back around and listening to the rest of Mr Hamilton’s words.

  “Now that everyone has their designated partner, you will need to work together to find time during which both of you can meet, on your own time, to complete this assignment to satisfactory results. You’re adults now, and I expect you to behave responsibly with this. Do not forget that this counts towards forty percent of your overall mark in this class, fail this, and you’ll almost definitely fail the entire subject for this year, no matter how well you do on your next assignment or the end of year exam. Your instructions, word count, grade pointers and portfolio title options are all contained within your brief.” He clapped his hands together once and continued.

  “Now, seeing as you have already received the required materials and content for this, for the rest of today’s session, and all of Thursday’s, you can use the time to go somewhere with your partner and begin working on your plan of action. I expect weekly updates on your progress and you can always drop by during my office hours if you need any further assistance.”

  Immediately, chairs were scraping along the floor and voices were raised in the classroom. Not mine however, I was still frozen to the spot. Jamie Travis? My partner? Oh no, I could not survive that. I began running through the options in my head. Maybe I could just request a change? No that wouldn’t work, it was supposed to unnerve me. Maybe I could say Jamie wasn’t helping, and just do the project by myself? No, couldn’t do that, it might get Jamie into trouble and I’d never want to do that.

  Braden approached me with an ugly sneer on his face, I didn’t look up.

  “Guess you got lucky huh, freak?” I didn’t respond. “Don’t think this means you get a free pass, because you don’t. Fucking weirdo. Jay’s got his work cut out putting up with you for a couple of months. I’m fucking glad I got ‘pizza face’ over there because at least he’s slightly normal.” And he started to strut away.

  I had no idea what he meant about a ‘free pass’ but then, I had no idea what most of the rubbish that came out of his mouth, was meant to mean.

  ‘Pizza face’ was what they had decided to call Aaron Sole. I didn’t know him because, like I said, I didn’t really know anyone, but I knew of him. He was, unfortunately, not very lucky when it came to teenage acne problems, either that, or he just didn’t wash. Seeing as he didn’t smell though, I assumed the former.

  He didn’t have many friends either from what I’d noticed, Maybe people were afraid his skin was contagious or something, but I felt really sorry for him if Braden was going to be his partner. Poor guy.

  It was official though, Jamie was my partner and I was going to have to work with him. I was in deep, no way out, just had to suck it up and deal with it. As soon as I had come to the realisation, I felt the air shift around me and a shadow fell over my table. I looked up into the smiling face of the boy who held my heart but I couldn’t speak. Shoot.

  “Hey, um, do you wanna stay here to work? Or we could go som
ewhere else if you’d like?” His voice was warm and comforting, it flowed across my skin and I had to suppress a shudder. His affect on me wasn’t exactly unwelcome. I liked it. I enjoyed it. I just couldn’t do anything about it.

  “Well?” At his question, I jumped when I realised that he’d been waiting for a response I hadn’t yet verbalised. So I looked down at my table, shrugged my shoulders and murmured, “Um, we’ll go wherever you want to. I don’t mind.”

  “Cool, let’s head over the fields at the back of our street. It’s nice out, so it’ll be better to sit outside. That ok with you yeah? Then you ain’t got far to walk home either” he suggested.

  “Um, yeah sure that’s fine with me. I don’t have a car though, so I’ll just walk home, and meet you there ok?” I was stunned that he even knew I lived on the same street as him, let alone the fact that he was willing to be seen out in public with me.

  Wow.

  But it only increased when he looked bewildered for a few beats then spoke again.

  “Are you crazy?” He was being sarcastic, but the words still hurt. He immediately made it better. “I’ll drive you. Why would I make you walk all the way home to meet with me again? It’s cool, grab your bag and let’s move.” And with that, he turned and strolled towards the door. I recovered from my shock quite quickly I thought, grabbed my bag and stood to follow him.

  ~*~*~*~*~

  In the car park, I didn’t really need to follow him seeing as I knew which car he drove. I saw it every day before and after school, still, I stayed behind him, I didn’t want him to think I was ok with walking beside him.

  I wasn’t.

  As we approached the vehicle, he bleeped the locks, but he didn’t get in, he opened the passenger side door and gestured for me to get in. I hesitated, I don’t know what for, just did, then I breathed deep, and got in.

  His car wasn’t anything special. It wasn’t brand new, flashy or fancy. But he was eighteen and it wasn’t an old car, so he was definitely doing better than most people his age. I knew nothing about cars, but it was shiny, it was blue and I knew he loved it. It had the word ‘Astra’ written on the back in silver letters. Maybe that was the make of the car? Maybe the model? I didn’t know, but then, I didn’t really care either. Cars didn’t interest me.

  The ride was silent for a few minutes.

  Awkward silence. I didn’t blame him for that though; he was probably wishing he hadn’t offered me lift. Well, that’s what I thought at first.

  “So how d’ya wanna play this? I’d let you just come over to my house after college in the week or somethin’ but with Harv there...well...” He let the indication that Harvey would either be unhappy about me being in their house, or he’d just cause trouble in general, hang in the air and I sucked in an audible breath before responding.

  “That’s fine. I’d never expect you to do that anyway. Why don’t you just give me your email address, that way we discuss it via email and you don’t have to make arrangements with me?” I suggested and he rolled his eyes at me in reaction.

  “Hey...” He started and I looked over at him... “We’re doing this properly. You live two doors away from me, I couldn’t have been given a better partner to be honest. Why don’t you wanna work with me?” He asked sounding slightly hurt I thought. That couldn’t be right though.

  “I...ah...um...” I took a deep breath and tried again. “I have no problem working with you. At all. I just...well you know...If you didn’t want to spend time with me to do it, then you don’t have to. That’s all.” His eye-brows knit together as if he couldn’t comprehend my words. He opened his mouth to respond, snapped it shut, then did it again.

  “Why wouldn’t I want to spend time with you?” He reached across and squeezed my knee lightly to support his question. My body jolted and I stared at where our bodies were connecting, thinking that it could possibly have the first time in nine years that someone had voluntarily touched me. Well, with the exception of the casual shoves that I’d get around school, but this contact wasn’t the same as that. This was, nice. But he wasn’t finished and what he said, made the whole scenario even more bizarre.

  “It’s cool babe, don’t stress your pretty little head about it. Trust me, this’ll be fun! I’m looking forward to it anyway.”

  He was looking forward to spending time with me?

  Never, not even in any alternate universe, could I have imagined that the boy I have loved since I was six years old and he was outside play-fighting or kicking a ball around with his brother on his front lawn, would tell me that he was looking forward to spending time with me.

  “Ok, thank you.” I whispered softly.

  “Nothin’ to thank me for babe.” he declared, actually sounding like he was being honest.

  My stomach was doing back-flips inside so I was too busy focusing on my breathing, trying to calm my nerves, that I failed to notice the sly glances and slight lip-twitches I was earning from the boy sitting next me who in his own mind was thinking that he didn’t lie, being assigned partners for this project really couldn’t have worked out better.

  Pulling up outside his house, I glanced around the area, Hoping for Jamie’s sake, that no one would watch me getting out of his car. I knew what people would say, and I knew that he could handle it, everyone worships him, but I didn’t want him to have to handle anything caused by being associated with me.

  He shouldn’t have to.

  He turned off the engine and removed his keys and swivelled in his seat to face me. He placed his hand on my knee again and said, “Breathe babe! Stop lookin’ like you’re about to throw up...unless you are?” He asked, looking horrified, I quickly shook my head. “This is not a big deal. Now wait there while I go open your door.”

  He strolled around the hood of the car, opened my door, and pulled me up by the hand. Tingles shot straight up my arm at his touch and I willed my body to calm down.

  It was beautiful, I thought, that he wanted to open the car door for me. Gentlemanly behaviour was scarce at the best of times, but especially in teenage boys.

  Didn’t think it would actually work, but I tried regardless.

  He started walking towards the house and my step faltered as I wondered where I should wait for him. At the door, he turned to me, about to tell me to wait on the step I assumed, but he didn’t.

  “Just gotta grab a few things from inside, you can wait in the kitchen ok?” My heart soared. I could go inside his house!

  The nerves were growing and I twisted my fingers together in an attempt to halt their shaking. It didn’t really work. We walked into his house and my heart plummeted.

  I did not belong there.

  It was just beautiful. Warm, homely...inviting. It wasn’t at all like my house, they couldn’t have been more different. They were about the same size I suppose, but that’s where the similarities ended. The hallway was decorated with cream wallpaper, huge flowers embossed across it in the same colour. I wanted to run my fingers along it, see what it felt like, I just didn’t dare touch anything. Polished wooden flooring ran the length of the hallway, and from what I could see, continued into the kitchen. It was a rich, dark brown, and it was glossy, so glossy in fact, I didn’t move from the doormat for fear that I’d scratch it or damage it somehow.

  Jamie said he was going to run upstairs, so I moved to the kitchen like he told me too and stood next to the island admiring the view around me. I love to cook, can’t do it as well as I should be able to in my kitchen though. The kitchen in my house is old, everything’s old over there, I’m sure it was a beautiful kitchen once, not that I would remember it.

  But not at the Travis’ house. Nothing was old or dirty there and everything seemed luxurious.

  There were multi-coloured tiles decorating the walls between the worktops and the cupboards raised above. Reds, Greens, blues and yellows. If it was anywhere else, it might have looked ridiculous.

  It wasn’t, they were organised and shiny, clean.

  The applianc
es were modern and from what I could guess, expensive. They had a dishwasher and a coffee machine! I’d love a dishwasher, dishes do not get done in my house unless I do them. As I was noting everything around me, the back door burst open and Mrs Travis came bustling through, waving a garden fork and shouting.

  “Boys! I need some help in the garden this afternoon please. There’s lots to do today. Vegetables to pull...more to plant, flowers to...” She stopped mid-sentence when her eyes fell on me, standing in her kitchen, leaning against her counter. I braced myself for her questions, but I shouldn’t have worried. She removed her gardening gloves and walked to the sink to wash her hands before saying, “Hello Rhianne, would you like something to drink? Those boys of mine, you’d think I hadn’t taught them anything. They haven’t got the slightest clue how to be a good host, have they?”

  I was still caught up on the fact that she knew my name to answer her, so she prompted, “Drink?” I snapped out of my haze and mumbled, “No thank you Mrs Travis.” Then in a stronger, but still timid voice, I asked, “You know my name?” She frowned like it was a stupid question, which thinking on it, it was since she had just called me by it.

  “Of course sweetheart! Pretty little thing like you in the area, with boys like mine, I make it my business to know! Oh, and none of this ‘Mrs Travis’ nonsense, you call me Cheryl, ok?”

  I wasn’t sure what she meant by ‘with boys like mine’ but I gave her a slight smile anyway. She called me pretty! I wasn’t sure I believed her. I knew I wasn’t exactly ugly, not exactly pretty either though I didn’t think, not me. I did love my eyes I suppose. They were piercing blue and my daddy always used to say my eyes could see the soul in the devil they were so intense and beautiful.

  I had pale skin and chestnut brown hair, nothing exciting to say about them. My hair was long, just below my shoulder blades and last time I went to the hairdressers, I had layers added to it to give it shape. Mum hated it, said I didn’t need to ‘give it shape’. “Hair’s just hair” she said. The hairdresser disagreed, and so did I.