I Love You, Benjamin Stone

Chapter 3: What You Don’t Know Won't Hurt You

“Annaleigh Barker! It took you four hours to pick up dish soap and eggs!?”

This was my greeting courtesy of my mother as I entered my house. Her hands are placed on her hips with authority and her mouth pressed into a firm line. My mother isn’t the type to get angry easily, in fact, the only reason why she's ever angry is if Shea leaves his toys on the stairs. Otherwise we're all set in routine like soldiers on a base; we never do anything out of the ordinary.

I shrug and stare down at my shoes silently. I slide my coat from my shoulders and hand my mother the bag of eggs and soap, not wanting to meet her clearly raging gaze. Now I know why my father always hides in the living room when he gets home from work, it’s like he’s got some sort of radar built in his brain that just knows whenever my mother is going to be having a bad day. I wish I knew where I could get one as well.

“Well?” She demands, placing the bag heavily onto the table. I sigh dramatically and kick my shoes off.

“I’m sorry mom, the snow was just so pretty then I ran into some guy who was getting beat up-“

“Therefore you got distracted by some silly boy fight that could have gotten you hurt!” My mother cuts in, silencing me instantly.

“N-not necessarily...” I stammer, trying to think of some sort of cover for what it really is. Truth be told, it’s a lot harder to lie when you pretty much have already said the truth. “Yes, I did get distracted but... But only because he could have been really hurt!”

“Keep away from that stuff Annaleigh Barker. You don’t need to be getting involved with idiot boys.” My mother scolds and then leaves the room.

God, I get snapped at for not helping people and then get snapped at for helping people. Now I understand why men always say they don’t understand women, not only do men not understand them but even women don’t understand their own gender. How lame is that?

I stand in silence for a few moments before making my way up to my room. The last thing I need is for my mother to freak out on me yet again.

When I reach my room, there is a vacuum placed near the area where the glass had been broken and the phone sitting on my bed.

Courtney phoned six times. Just thought you should know.

My father’s writing was scrawled across the little sticky note placed on the back of the phone. I always like it better when he writes notes; he doesn’t use cursive writing like my mother did. She happened to think it was still the 1800’s and preferred that her writing was illegible and loopy-looking.

So Courtney phoned six times.

The only thing that I could think of was that she wanted to talk about my awesome luck today in having Benjamin join my group. To be honest, I couldn’t even think about it without turning beet red and feeling like it was too good to be true. In actuality, it pretty much was too good to be true.

This is kind of scary. I am so used to having bad luck that when good luck comes around, I usually jinx myself into having bad luck again. Chances are that I’ll either embarrass myself into oblivion or else somehow manage to break my leg and not be able to perform. Hm, Ms. Weatherton would probably make me perform anyway, even if I did break my leg.

I dial Courtney’s number into the phone and wait patiently as it rings and rings and rings. Courtney is horrible at answering phones mainly because she has her creepy indie music blaring throughout the house while her parents were at work. Not that I have anything against her taste in music, it’s just that Indie was never really my style. Don’t laugh at the fact that Hilary Duff is.

The ringing stops and there is the familiar voice of the answering machine letting me know that nobody is home, that I could leave a message, or press pound for more options. I sigh and hang up, not bothering to even record a message. Courtney would probably be checking her caller I.D. and missed calls religiously right now if it was important enough.

Just as I put the phone down, it rings. I reach over and of course, there's the name I had just tried calling. I can almost feel the excitement bubbling over the phone.

“Hello?”

“FINALLY! I TRIED CALLING LIKE 4 TIMES!” Courtney’s voice shouts through the phone. I actually had to move it away from my ear to keep my ear drum from bursting.

“Actually, it was six Courtney. You know that you could have called once and I would have phoned back once I got home.” I reply as I pull my hair back into a ponytail. “Like Grism says, call once, call twice to check and third call? Obsessed.”

“We don’t need to resort to inaccurate C.S.I quotes Anna. Besides, who cares about Grism! YOU’RE IN A GROUP WITH BENJAMIN STONE!” Her squeal is so loud that it almost echoes throughout my room. I think that my friend might possibly be psycho.

I wince slightly and then put the phone back against my ear, nibbling at my fingernails.

“I know Court, but I was done with my excitement hours ago.”

“How could you be done with excitement!? My God Annaleigh! It’s Benjamin Stone! In your group! RE-ENACTING HAMLET!” Her voice increases in octaves with every portion of the sentence. This is pretty much why I hate talking to Courtney on the phone. She really has no idea how loud she talks on it until I record her somehow. Even then, she still is worse than a dying rabbit.

“Got that part. It’s just that whenever I get too excited about something it usually doesn’t work out. I just want to maintain a ‘who cares’ demeanour and maybe then things will finally work out.” I pick up the Hamlet book from the floor and flip through the pages.

“Don’t be such a party pooper!”

“Courtney, did I even tell you the scene that Benjamin picked for us to perform?”

Courtney pauses for a moment; the only sound is her heavy mouth breathing. It kind of freaks me out, she mouth breathes like a fish and over the phone it always sounded like a creepy stalker guy who’s standing outside your window.

“No, I didn’t ask so you didn’t tell.” Courtney replies simply.

“Well he chose the scene where Hamlet uses tons of sexual references and even puts his head on Ophelia’s lap! Do you know how much willpower it’ll take for me not to faint of embarrassment!? I’m practically setting myself up for cardiac arrest!”

“Jesus Annaleigh, it’s just a performance. Even if you do mess up, it wouldn’t be the first time. You did faint and fall on the piano player during our production of “Annie” in grade 6. Remember? It could always be worse.”

“You HAD to bring up the “Annie” performance, didn’t you?”

I can almost envision Courtney’s shrug.

“Sorry, just wanted to remind you that there wouldn’t be any piano players to fall on. Assuming that you’re the only girl in the group besides Curtis, you’ll be playing Ophelia.”

“Yes and Ben-Wait. What? Curtis isn’t a girl!”

“His penis is practically non-existent.” Courtney answers nonchalantly and I can feel my skin turn beet red.

“Don’t talk like that! It’s so gross!” I hiss into the phone, placing a hand on my cheek to cool down my skin. Courtney laughs loudly into the phone.

“Fact of life Annaleigh. My God, how you’ll ever have sex I will never know.” I feel my skin go even redder.

“Courtney! That’s s-so... Ugh! You’re perpetually disturbing!” I exclaim and nearly dropped the phone.

“Well it’s true! So what part is Ben playing, Hamlet or Claudius? I’m guessing that if you’re this worked up then he has to be Hamlet.” Courtney states obviously and I can hear the sound of a wrapper being torn. It's probably a Twix bar. My friend is addicted to those the way House was addicted to Vicodin.

“Well... Yes. Yes he is. He has to put his head on my lap! I swear that I’m going to die Courtney!” Courtney’s chewing is so loud that I have to once again hold the phone away from my ear. Phone conversations with my best friend always go this way, me usually becoming partially deaf by the end of them. She’s lucky that I value her as a friend... Well actually I’m lucky because she’s really my only friend besides maybe the Goth kid, Colin. Despite his angry face and ever present satanic items, he's alright.

“Wow, you make it sound like he has to take off your pants or something. He’ll just be touching you, you should be totally psyched.”

“I am, along with being utterly terrified into suicide.”

“Hm, Annaleigh Barker: model student, quiet and every mother’s dream trying to commit suicide. You wouldn’t even know how to loud a gun.” Thank you Courtney for the moral support.

“I’d use a knife!”

“You’re so emo sometimes.”

“Uh... No. I wouldn’t be able to do half of the things they do. The sight of blood makes me so sick.” I can hear Courtney’s mother screaming for her in the background; Something about supper and an octopus. I'm not asking any questions, especially since I know it'll end up with a supper invite. Octopus just isn't my thing.

“Got to go, I’ll see you tomorrow at school okay? Try not to kill yourself or anything like that.” Without another word, she hangs up before I even have a chance to say goodbye. I press the ‘end’ button on the phone and toss it onto my bed.

This whole situation is going to be so much worse than the “Annie” play.

¤¿¤

The Next Day

The hallways are so crowded that I can barely get to my locker in the morning. After being shoved into numerous people and objects (one being the school’s water fountain. The Principal has enough nerve to question why it never works and yet the answer is me being rammed into it constantly), I manage to reach my destination.

I barely have enough room to turn the little dial towards its numbers; my elbows are jammed to my sides and my head just an inch away from becoming best friends with the loosely fitted metal of my locker.

And like the very God he is, there is Benjamin.

I’d like to say that my school isn’t like the stereotypical with the girls chasing after the super hot guy or that every human of the female population didn’t stop and stare but I’d be a liar.

That is what happens every morning at my school. Every girl stops primping her hair in the locker mirror, stops rummaging for books or lip gloss, and every girl turns to watch the human version of God stroll through the hallway with the most beautiful smile on his face.

This is what's happening right now, just as I have my head bashed into my locker and my face squished up against the cold metal. So I miss the whole thing of course.

“Alright there?” I manage to peel my face away from my locker long enough to shake my head and adjust my glasses. The bell rings and everyone begins rushing toward their classes.

I turn toward the voice and wobble slightly on my feet, blinking a few times. My glasses slide down my nose again.

“I think so.” I mumble and rub my forehead. The room is still slightly blurry and I couldn’t quite focus on the face talking to me.

“Good thing. Can’t have Mary Poppins all banged up while the new guy can’t take care of himself.”

I push my glasses up my nose and meet a pair of dark brown eyes framed by long lashes. I blink a few times in confusion and then glanced up at the light, almost white to be exact, blonde hair.

“Rex.” I say softly and rubbed the back of my head sheepishly. “I almost didn’t recognize you. You dyed your hair.”

He runs a hand through the wisps and grins.

“Yeah, uh; thought that I’d start school here with a new look, y’know?” He says and adjusts the books caught between his left arm and ribcage. I nod and retrieve my own books.

“I-I... I didn’t know that you go here. I thought that you were a... student at the East High School instead.” I mumble and close my locker. Rex shifted on his feet and then glances past me.

“No, I just moved here from Ottawa. Look, I just want to say thanks for yesterday.” The cut above his now blond eyebrow was now noticeable in my eyes. I glance at it then back down at my feet.

“You’re ... welcome.”

Rex mumbles something like ‘yeah’ and then pulls out a piece of paper, waving it in my face.

“Since I’m new and everything, would you mind telling me where this room is? I can’t find it.”

My eyes quickly scan over his schedule and sure enough, he is in all lower classes as opposed to me. Lowest class for social and math, along with English; however, the one thing that interests me is that he is taking all the 30 level sciences, including Physics.

“You’re taking Physics 30 and Chemistry 30?” I ask before I can stop myself. I feel my face grow warm and Rex pockets the schedule.

Don’t be quick to judge Mary Poppins, it just so happens that I’m genius at Chemistry. Physics... I’m okay at.” My mouth curves upward slightly and I nod.

“Your first class is English 30-2... I’m sure that if I talk to the office, I’d be able to show you around the school to each of your classrooms. The 30-2 English teacher is generally lenient about late new students so... if you, err, would like...” I let my voice trail off, surprised that I actually said more than one sentence.

Rex shrugs.

“Don’t really care. You’re the one missing AP classes to help me out.” I don’t reply but veer past him as the second bell rings, heading toward the office. Rex follows, jogging to catch up.

“So why are you so keen on helping me? You interfere with my fight, give me medical shit and now you’re helping me find classes. Am I some sort of charity case for you?” If anyone else had asked if they were a charity case, it probably would have come across as rude. With Rex, it sounds like more of a childish curiosity rather than an impolite remark.

“N-not... No. I just happen to be one of the only people you know here.” I answer softly and push open the office door. The secretaries glance up in unison toward me and one even beams a smile in Rex’s direction.

“Glad to see you’re already making new friends Mr. Grayson. Is there anything I can help you to with?” The secretary is a younger woman, middle thirties I’d say. I'm not usually in the school office so I haven't had a chance to learn their names.

“Yes Mrs. Dawson, Mar-“ He cuts off mid-sentence and turns to me, raising an eyebrow. I sigh and then step forward.

“I was hoping to speak with Mr. James in order to discuss a brief matter with him. Would it be possible to obtain just a few mere minutes of his time?” Speaking to adults always is so much easier than people my own age.

“Sure Ms. Barker, just go right in.”

I give her a small smile and make my way down the hallway to the last door on the left. I stop Rex and turn to face him.

“Please, just allow me to talk.”

“Sorry, I just forgot your name.” He mutters sheepishly and scratches the back of his head.

“You’re not the first.” I whisper to myself in annoyance and knock on Mr. James’ door.

“Come in!” I turn the doorknob and push the oak door open, stopping just before entering the office.

Mr. James is a rounded, balding man; with a nose too big for his face and eyes that are too bulgy. In a way, he is like a larger version of Mr. Bean, which coincidentally, is one of his favorite movie characters. Sometimes, it’s weird how a simple resemblance can result in some sort of weird obsession.

“Hello Mr. James, I was just wondering if you would be able to call Mr. Both to let him know that I’ll be showing a new student around the school.”

Mr. James rubs his chin and then nods.

“Yes, I definitely think that’s possible, Annaleigh. Thank you.” I offer him a small smile and leave his room. Rex is leaning against the wall, cell phone in hand. He glances up at me and then begins to follow, pocketing the phone and nearly dropping his books in the process.

We walk in silence until we reach the northern hallway. Sure enough, it is completely empty and it makes the lack of conversation between Rex and I more awkward. I chew my lip until we reach his first classroom.

“This is where you’ll go for English. Lucky for you, your Social classroom is just diagonal to the left of it.”

“That’s convenient.” He states abruptly and placed his free hand on a narrow hip. It is hard not to notice how long his legs are, considering his height.

“Very.” I reply in agreement and then turn on my heel.

“What made you so nerdy-church girl?” He asks suddenly, stopping me in my tracks. I frown immediately and turned to face him.

“For your information, I’m not either. I just happen to have morals and self-respect unlike some of the beings you call girls in this school. I don’t happen to find anything wrong with that either!” I snap, surprising myself.

Rex stares at me for a few moments then shrugs.

“Sounds like church girl to me.” He mumbles as he passes by me.

And like a proper church girl, I bite my tongue.