Something To Aim For.
Chapter 3
As I walk out the gates after school, he's there. Stood by the front gate, eyes trained on me, Damien's totally alone once again. I should feel uncomfortable with the way he seems to always be nearby, but instead it's almost reassuring. He doesn't seem formidable, just...interested?
I usually walk home with Lucy and another girl, Isla, but they stayed behind to help with some parent's evening thing. They didn't bother to ask if I wanted to stay too. For a fraction of a second, I almost consider going over to Damien, and talking to him, but I catch myself and walk straight past him, my expression blank.
However, just as I'm getting to the end of the road, he's suddenly beside me. I again notice the way he always seems a few minutes behind everyone else, as though it takes him so much longer to do things than other people.
"Hello." He says without looking at me. I just keep walking and he remains silent from then on. It's funny, because normally people get awkward when they are with people who aren't talking. When I don't have anything interesting to say, I just don't speak, however others mention the weather, or how their day was, or just giggle to themselves. Not Damien. He appears just as comfortable as I to walk side by side without a word, and I suddenly find myself wanting to hear him laugh. He's said the bare minimum since I first saw him this morning; perhaps he doesn't laugh at all? People often ask me why I don't laugh so much, and when I reply that I don't find the same things funny as they do, they just look at me a little weirdly, and walk away. Well, all but Lucy; Lucy simply chuckles to herself, and then starts talking about something comletely off-topic such as the English teacher that she thinks is hot.
My house is only four blocks away, and Damien walks me straight to my door.
"Where do you live?" I break the almost fifteen minute silence.
"About a mile the other side of school." He doesn't seem embarrassed that he's walked so far just to see me home, and I almost feel guilty that I haven't spoken on the journey here. His face is so pale, so passive, I can't help but stare until I have memorised every inch of it. The straight nose, coal black eyes, thin red lips. Everything abut it seems to have been created to be dramatic.
"Oh. You can come in for a drink if you want."
"No, I'm alright. Thanks though. See you tomorrow." Then he turns away and walks back the way we came, leaving me to stare at the back of his head, amused at how stiffly he holds himself as he walks.
When I'm inside, I get out my mobile, which I rarely use, and only got bought for me since my parents thought it a necessity in case of emergencies. I think they bought me one because they could think of nothing else to give me that Christmas. I scroll through my contacts until I find Lucy's number, and then press dial.
"Scarlett?" I stare at the phone, confused.
"How did you know it was me?"
"Your name comes up on my screen, idiot. What do you want, I'm kind of busy - you knew I was sorting out parents evening."
"Sorry. Listen, this is important. Are there teachers around there at the moment?"
"Yes, of course, why?" I hear her sigh of impatience, and raise my eyes at the hypocrisy - as though she's never taken ages to get to the point of something.
"I need to ask you around about Damien Hall."
"If it was anybody else, I'd ask if you have a crush. But because it's you, I won't. Explain it all tomorrow, I have to go. I'll try to ask though. Bye!" I shake my head disdainfully, praying that she'll at least find something out. Putting down the phone, I get out my maths book from my bag. I guess it's finally time to start on the homework.
I usually walk home with Lucy and another girl, Isla, but they stayed behind to help with some parent's evening thing. They didn't bother to ask if I wanted to stay too. For a fraction of a second, I almost consider going over to Damien, and talking to him, but I catch myself and walk straight past him, my expression blank.
However, just as I'm getting to the end of the road, he's suddenly beside me. I again notice the way he always seems a few minutes behind everyone else, as though it takes him so much longer to do things than other people.
"Hello." He says without looking at me. I just keep walking and he remains silent from then on. It's funny, because normally people get awkward when they are with people who aren't talking. When I don't have anything interesting to say, I just don't speak, however others mention the weather, or how their day was, or just giggle to themselves. Not Damien. He appears just as comfortable as I to walk side by side without a word, and I suddenly find myself wanting to hear him laugh. He's said the bare minimum since I first saw him this morning; perhaps he doesn't laugh at all? People often ask me why I don't laugh so much, and when I reply that I don't find the same things funny as they do, they just look at me a little weirdly, and walk away. Well, all but Lucy; Lucy simply chuckles to herself, and then starts talking about something comletely off-topic such as the English teacher that she thinks is hot.
My house is only four blocks away, and Damien walks me straight to my door.
"Where do you live?" I break the almost fifteen minute silence.
"About a mile the other side of school." He doesn't seem embarrassed that he's walked so far just to see me home, and I almost feel guilty that I haven't spoken on the journey here. His face is so pale, so passive, I can't help but stare until I have memorised every inch of it. The straight nose, coal black eyes, thin red lips. Everything abut it seems to have been created to be dramatic.
"Oh. You can come in for a drink if you want."
"No, I'm alright. Thanks though. See you tomorrow." Then he turns away and walks back the way we came, leaving me to stare at the back of his head, amused at how stiffly he holds himself as he walks.
When I'm inside, I get out my mobile, which I rarely use, and only got bought for me since my parents thought it a necessity in case of emergencies. I think they bought me one because they could think of nothing else to give me that Christmas. I scroll through my contacts until I find Lucy's number, and then press dial.
"Scarlett?" I stare at the phone, confused.
"How did you know it was me?"
"Your name comes up on my screen, idiot. What do you want, I'm kind of busy - you knew I was sorting out parents evening."
"Sorry. Listen, this is important. Are there teachers around there at the moment?"
"Yes, of course, why?" I hear her sigh of impatience, and raise my eyes at the hypocrisy - as though she's never taken ages to get to the point of something.
"I need to ask you around about Damien Hall."
"If it was anybody else, I'd ask if you have a crush. But because it's you, I won't. Explain it all tomorrow, I have to go. I'll try to ask though. Bye!" I shake my head disdainfully, praying that she'll at least find something out. Putting down the phone, I get out my maths book from my bag. I guess it's finally time to start on the homework.