Click

It took a while to get David back to normal and when we did, it was like nothing happened. It was also as if he completely changed his opinion on dead pigs sitting in front of him because when we started to actually dissect it, he got right into it and pretty much did all of the hands-on work, which made me sick to my stomach because every time he pulled out an important organ, he’d hold it in front of my face and laugh like crazy until I squirmed and told him to cut it out.

At one point when Nick was finishing up answering the lab questions and Blade and I were cleaning up the station a little bit, David picked up the tongue of the pig, held it over his head and hollered, “organ fight!”, at which time Blade and I just stared at him oddly, not really knowing what we were supposed to say to him.

During lunch period, Marcy, Kayti and I all went off school property to a Tim Hortons down the street and got something there. Unfortunately, Nathaniel just happened to call me when I was in mid-chew so Marcy thought it would be a good idea to steal my phone and talk to him for me.

“Hey there!” she screamed. Kayti burst out laughing and I struggled to reach across the table and retrieve my phone from Marcy, who was swinging her free arm around like mad trying to fend me off.

“No, sorry. She’s not available right now, can I ask whose calling?” she asked with a big grin.

“Give me the phone! I am so available!” I tried to say without choking on my food. I swallowed it painfully and coughed.

“Oh, sorry, Nathaniel! She is available and she would love it if you took her out on a date!”

“Marcy!”

When I had finally gotten it back, she was beginning to laugh just as hard as Kayti was. I glared at her and put the phone to my ear.

“Hey Nathan,” I said. “Ignore Marcy’s earlier comment. She has brain damage.”

“I do not!”

“Anyways!” I hollered, widening my eyes at her to make her shut her mouth. “You caught me at a bad time again.”

He laughed. “I did?”

“Yeah, I was eating so you got to meet my wonderful friends,” I said, holding the phone away from my ear as Marcy and Kayti both grinned and hollered “hi Nathaniel!”, making him laugh again.

“Tell them I said hi back,” he said. “So how’s your day going?”

“All right,” I replied, leaning back on my chair and glaring at Kayti and Marcy as they made kissy faces. “That David guy I told you about before fainted in science class.”

“Seriously? How come?”

“We were digesting a pig and he got a little freaked out but when we woke him up, it was like he was in love with the idea of cutting a pig opened and fishing around inside of it.”
Nathaniel laughed. “Sounds like a dumbass,” he said.

“That’s what Nick said.”

“Who’s Nick?” Nathaniel’s voice dropped a few pitches, but I couldn’t figure out if he was angry, nervous to know the answer, or if he just suddenly hit puberty for a minute. I smirked to avoid laughing if he really did just suddenly hit puberty in the middle of his sentence and I just happened to be talking to someone that was like thirteen years old.

“Just a friend,” I replied. Marcy raised her eyebrows at me and leaned forward on her chair.
“Who’s Nick?” she asked as well. I waved her off and she scowled at me.

“I’ve got to go,” I said, just coming up with an excuse so I didn’t have to talk to him in front of Marcy and Kayti, who looked like they were about to pee their pants if they didn’t get in on this conversation any time soon. “I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“All right. See you, Christabelle,” he said, hanging up, and when he did, all I could think was “pfft, yeah right. We’ll probably never see each other in our lives”.

Kayti smirked. “So . . . how’s Prince Charming doing?” she asked me, winking dramatically.
“Shut up,” I mumbled.

Marcy smirked as well, only hers was more maniacal and amused than Kayti’s was. “You know what I think?” she asked.

I sighed. “What, Marcy? What do you think?” I asked her, crossing my arms on the table.

“His voice is really sexy.”

Exactly.



Fourth period seemed like it was never going to end. David kept talking about pigs, and somehow sexual partners fit into that conversation and the only way I could get him to shut up was by hitting him over the head with my notebook, which almost earned me a detention if I hadn’t pretended to start crying. The teacher must’ve felt guilty because he said “all right, you don’t have to go to detention. Just, please stop crying” so I got myself out of that one without any problems.

When he was turned around to the board again, everyone was staring at me. Some looked a little confused or freaked out, while others gave me looks saying “what an idiot” but I just ignored them and returned to my work, smirking. David’s eyes were glued to me though but his expression held admiration because he knew I was faking it and he must’ve wondered how I managed to pull it off without the teacher just sending me out into the hall to calm myself down.

I just chuckled and shrugged, saying quietly, “drama can do wonders”.

David tapped his chin. “Hm, maybe I should switch my instrumental class to drama,” he said.

At that point, I mentally prayed to God that he would—for some unknown but irrelevant and unimportant reason—change his mind and not get put into a third class with me. I’d probably kill myself if I got two-hundred and twenty-five minutes of school time with him. I mean, it was fun to hang out with him but he got a little too continuous with his jokes, and whenever I embarrassed myself, he’d make fun of me and I knew it would be pretty much impossible to get any work done; seeing as in biology class, I was trying to avoid the blood-covered organs he was waving in front of my face and in English, he was talking about pigs’ sexual habits.

That wasn’t something I needed to hear about but apparently, in David’s eyes, it was necessary.

When I headed down the staircase, heading for drama after English ended, I heard my name being called. I turned around, looking to the top of the stairs to see Shane walking toward me. My brows furrowed in confusion.

“Don’t you have a reputation to protect?” I asked him, crossing my arms over my chest. I’m pretty sure he was confused by my bipolar attitude since yesterday, I felt sorry for him that he had received a hard slap to the face—courtesy of me—and now, it was like I was biting his head off with my words, and I hadn’t even given him a reason why my mood changed.

I knew that he understood where I was coming from, though, because when he caught up with me, he sighed in disappointment.

“That’s actually what I was going to talk to you about,” he said.

“A little late for the apology speech, Shane,” I pointed out. “Like . . . four years too late. If my dad scared you, that’s one thing but if you just ditched me because you got popular, then you really have no excuse.”

“Your dad didn’t scare me,” he objected, shaking his head. “Aiden did.”

My brows furrowed in confusion. We began walking down the hall toward the classroom so we wouldn’t be later and Mr. Sadusky wouldn’t be pissed off but that thought didn’t distract me from trying to figure out what he meant.

“My brother scared you?” I asked him, frowning.

“Well yeah. He was a ninth grader then but even at that, he was intimidating,” he replied. “But . . . the video camera in your room did kind of freak me out a little bit.”

“You knew about that?” I asked him, widening my eyes. He smirked.

“Kind of hard to not hear the mechanical whirring every time your dad changed the angle or zoomed in on us,” he replied. “Besides, he left his laptop opened. I thought he was a spy then. That was before I found out he was just a really over-protective father.”

I smiled. “Sorry,” I said, apologizing on my dad’s behalf because I knew he was never going to do it himself.

“It’s all right. I think Aiden had the biggest effect. He threatened me with my legs,” he said. I chuckled.

“He did?”

“Yeah. He said I wouldn’t be able to play soccer anymore if I laid a hand on his little sister,” he replied.

“What an asshole,” I said, shaking my head. “He knew you wouldn’t. You didn’t like me that way.”

“Actually, um . . .” he said, shifting uncomfortably and stuffing his hands in the pockets of his black skinny jeans. I looked up at him with wide eyes. “I kind of did then, but I wasn’t about to make a move on you. We were twelve, after all. And besides, you had the whole parental unit with Aiden acting as the mother; only a lot scarier and way more masculine. I figured if he didn’t attempt to break my legs, your dad would.”

I stifled a laugh, because I knew Shane was completely right about that.

“Is that why you drifted away?” I asked him. He shrugged.

“Partially,” he said. “Your family occupied a large amount of space in my change of opinion on us hanging out. I also kind of wanted to hang out with guys from that point. You knew you were my only friend and if I had told you I had a crush on you, we probably would’ve stopped being friends. After all, you didn’t like me back, so . . .”

“I never said I didn’t like you then,” I objected. He looked down at me and raised his eyebrows at me.

“Did you?”

I cleared my throat awkwardly. “So! You made new friends, huh?”

Shane laughed. “See? Anyway, Amanda must’ve taken an interest in my new and improved looks and for once, it was nice not to be teased about braces and glasses and being short and pudgy.”

“You weren’t pudgy,” I said, shaking my head.

“Oh come on. Who’re you kidding? I was a lump,” he said, laughing. I smiled and looked down at my feet, not knowing what to say. “Well, I guess what I’m trying to say is . . . can we try again? Being friends, I mean.”

I looked up at him. “Sure,” I said, nodding. “You can’t ditch me again, though. I’m not forgiving you a second time.”

He laughed. “Deal.”

By now, we were right in front of the drama classroom. I didn’t expect Shane to sit with me since he was friends with Blade and Andrew so while he headed over to where they were, I walked over to Marcy and Kayti, who managed to get here quicker than me due to the fact that Shane and I were stalling.

“Hey, where were you?” Marcy asked me as I plopped myself down on her free side that wasn’t already occupied with Kayti’s ass.

“Yeah, we waited for you at your locker but you didn’t show up,” Kayti added, crossing her arms over her chest. I looked up at Shane, who was now in a conversation with Blade and was too absorbed in it to notice me watching him. I smiled.

“I was catching up with an old friend,” I replied, shrugging. Marcy and Kayti obviously had no clue about what I was talking about but they didn’t push the subject any further. Right on time, Mr. Sadusky stepped into the classroom, holding a hat that looked to have come right out of a Charlie Chaplin movie. The warning bell went off and several people rushed into the room, taking their seats. He glanced up for one moment and his eyes swept the students, before looking back down at his desk, leaning over it, picking up a pencil and writing one word down on each strip of paper.

“Good afternoon, everyone,” Mr. Sadusky said, smiling and walking around to the other side of his desk. He leaned back on it casually and crossed his arms over his chest. I noticed that this seemed to be a normal routine of his. “So, I’ve got a little activity for you today. It’s called Getting to Know Your Classmates. How many of can tell me . . .” He glanced around again and smirked at Shane. “Mr. Krishna’s middle name?”

I smiled and raised my hand. Blade did as well. No one else did.

“Yes?” he asked us both.

“Kendrick,” we said in unison, returning our hands to our laps.

“And do either of you two know the names of Shane’s parents?” he asked us, raising his eyebrows. I fell silent and cleared my throat, shifting uncomfortably in my chair. I had no idea what his parent’s names were, even though my dad had mentioned it the other night at dinner. I couldn't put my finger on it.

“That’s not something I usually tell people, Mr. S,” Shane commented. “Especially not a fellow dude.”

“Not a fellow dude?” Mr. Sadusky repeated him, raising his eyebrows. “The proper term is boy, Mr. Krishna.”

“I’m not going to say boy when I’m referring to one of my friends,” Shane said, beginning to laugh. “That’s just weird.”

“Saying dude is weird,” Mr. Sadusky argued. “But we’re not doing this. I have a class to teach. Now, I know you already did an activity like this at the beginning of the semester but this time, you can relax and you don’t have to copy the other one’s every move. I want you and your partner to share everything. That can be family, middle names, pets’ names, likes, and dislikes, fears. Anything goes. You can go anywhere in the school you’d like but you can’t leave the property or you won’t be let back in my class and I’ll fail you anyway; even if you try to show up.”

I snickered in amusement.

“Now, I split the class up into two sections. Half of you have your name in this hat,” he said, pointing to the Charlie Chaplin hat sitting on the side of his desk, “and the other half of you doesn’t. Luckily, we have an even number of students so don’t even try suggesting three to a group because I’m not letting it slide.”

He picked up the hat and slowly made his way around the side of the room that Marcy, Kayti and I were sitting on. When he got to me, I hesitantly put my hand in the bag, hoping more than anything to not get Andrew because that would just be a waste of my time.

I slowly pulled out a piece of paper and wrapped my fingers around it. When he finished getting around our half of the room, he walked back over to his desk, placed the hat on it and turned to face us.

“All right. Read them out. Whoever you have is your partner for this activity,” he said.

There were about five people before it got to Kayti, who ended up being paired with her least favourite person in the class; Vienne.

Marcy got Andrew . . . again. This was the second time she’d gotten Kayti’s lover and also the second time she’d have a wasted class period. She might as well have just left. Andrew didn’t look too happy about it either, judging by the scowl on his face. Kayti looked furious. She had horrible luck when it came to Andrew.

“Well?” Mr. Sadusky asked, snapping me out of my thoughts. I looked over at him and he raised his eyebrows at me. “Who’ve you got, Chris?”

I wasn’t sure how long he’d been waiting so I opened my sheet quickly and looked at the five letters written across the page. I looked up, my eyes locking with my partners from across the room.

“Blade.”



I wasn’t sure what our reason was for it, but the two of us had decided to lie down in the middle of the aisle in the theatre, directly across the hall from the drama class. Marcy and Andrew had split off and went outside to sit on one of the benches while Kayti dragged her miserable ass down the hall with Vienne trailing behind her, calling her name and trying to get her to slow down.

Blade and I could’ve sat on the stage or on one of the hundreds of chairs placed in rows on rows all the way up to a second level balcony type of area but instead, we thought, “screw it. The carpet’s more comfortable than chairs”.

“How come you didn’t tell me your name was short for Christabelle?” he asked me. We hadn’t talked for nearly ten minutes now and that was the first thing he decided to ask me?

I shrugged. “I just figured it wasn’t a big deal,” I lied. I didn’t really want to tell him it had to do with me thinking he was the guy I had spoke to over the internet because then I’d have to explain the whole screaming-at-the-teacher thing, as well as me telling him that I hated that website on the first day in drama class—since I had met Nathaniel over it but I had told Blade that it wasn’t worth my time. I knew he would’ve questioned my motives, despite my explanation, and he probably would’ve wondered what else I lied to him about.

“How come you said it wasn’t though?” he asked.

I sighed. I knew that there was no way that I could avoid this. It wasn’t that he was some conversational wizard and managed to talk me into a corner to get the truth out of me or anything like that. It was because I was too honest for my own good. I could never keep to my own promises, no matter how hard I tried.

“You’re going to think I’m crazy or stupid or something,” I said, shaking my head.

“I think lots of people are stupid and crazy. That doesn’t stop them from telling me the truth though,” he said. He had a very good point, even though I hated to admit it. Just once, I wished that the person I was somewhat arguing with could make no sense and then I could comment on that; thus changing the topic, at least for a little while. Of course, my life sucked so much that they always just had to be right.

“Well, you know that website everyone’s crazy about?” I asked him. He nodded. “I decided to give it a try, just for fun and I met this guy on there, who said his name was Blade. I just kind of figured it was you because you’re the only guy I’ve ever heard of with that name.”

Blade smiled and moved his head so he was no longer looking at me. Instead, now his attention was drawn to the ceiling. I didn’t dwell on the meaning behind that smile for too long though, because he probably would’ve wondered why I was just staring at him blankly, lost in my own thoughts, and then begin to think I’m a weirdo. I stopped paying attention whenever I thought too much, and sometimes that lead me to staring at people without actually noticing that I was doing it.

I looked away from him and stared at the ceiling as well. “I know it was kind of crazy, but I got kind of paranoid. So I tried to avoid letting you know my name and that’s why I screamed at the teacher –you know, to stop her from saying my full name. Anyway, when I told you that I didn’t like the website, I wasn’t lying. I still think it’s stupid and completely biased and unrealistic—albeit, a little funny when it comes to the people using it—but I got kind of nervous over nothing. So . . . sorry. For lying to you, I mean.”

I looked out of the corner of my eye and him and saw him nod.

“No big deal,” he said. “Although, I guess this explains a lot. I was kind of curious about why you screamed at Mrs. Adams. I knew you weren’t excited about biology.” He smiled.

I laughed. “Can we, uh . . . keep this between us?” I asked him. “Marcy and Kayti tease me enough about it.”

Blade nodded again. “Sure.”

“So anyway, we’re hardly concentrating on our assignment. What’s your middle name?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Don’t have one.”

I looked over at him. “Really?”

He nodded. “Yep. What’s yours?”

“Elizabeth.”

“That’s nice,” Blade said, smiling and closing his eyes. “What about your family?”

“My younger sister’s name is Karlee, and my older brother’s name is Aiden.”

“How old are they?”

“Karlee’s fourteen and Aiden’s twenty. He went to college for a year and then came home for the next one so he can piss me off, I assume,” I joked. Blade laughed.

“I doubt that’s the reason. He probably needed a job or something,” he said.

“Maybe, but annoying me is his pride and joy, so that’s probably part of the reason,” I pointed out. “So what about your family?”

“What about my family?”

“Names?” I asked. “Ages?”

“Oh. Well my little sister’s name is Isabelle and she’s seven, like I said before. My mom and dad are I-have-no-idea-how-old, and my older brother is twenty-nine.”

I looked over at Blade again and raised my eyebrows at him. “You never told me you had an older brother,” I said. He sighed and shook his head.

“I don’t like to talk about him,” he said. I frowned.

“Come on. We’re supposed to be sharing here. I told you about my embarrassing internet story and the reason behind screaming at the teacher. You owe me at least this,” I pointed out. Blade looked over at me, opened his eyes and smiled.

“All right. Well uh . . . my brother’s name is Eric, and basically, my parents see him as the marvel child,” he replied. “He went to medical university for four years and then got a job as a doctor at Sick Kids hospital. Then he got married and had twin girls like a year later.”

“How come you don’t like to talk about him?” I asked. “He doesn’t seem like that bad of a guy.”

“He does when you’re the middle child who apparently, will amount to nothing in your parents eyes,” he explained, sighing and tilting his head back more. “They’re always looking down on me like I’m their method of amusement whenever I tell them that there’s something I really have an interest in something. They don’t seem to believe I’ll live up to their expectations, despite how hard I always try to. They even told me they wished I was like Eric once.”

“Blade, that’s awful,” I said. I felt a single pang of guilt in my gut for asking him about Eric. I knew I should have just kept my mouth shut because the way that Blade’s eyes squeezed shut and his Adam’s Apple bobbed up and down. He looked hurt having to talk about it. I didn’t know what it was like to have to try and compete with a sibling but the way that Blade was acting seemed to explain everything to me clearly.

It sucked.

“I know,” he agreed, nodding. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I’ve been trying to make them happy for as long as I can remember but unless I become some like . . . super doctoror get a Nobel Prize, they’re never going to be proud of me. I just know it. Even if I did win a Nobel Prize, they probably wouldn’t even be satisfied then.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. I spluttered my response before just looking back up at the ceiling and clamping my mouth shut. Blade groaned in the back of his throat and shifted his body around on the carpet.

“So what about you?” he asked me. “Every family’s got their issues. What’s yours?”

“Well, my parent’s divorce counts as a problem,” I said, shrugging as if it didn’t bother me but it really did. I just wished that my mom and dad had managed to work out their career issues and avoid the problems that came with it so that they were still together and happy like they used to be.

Blade shook his head. “I mean something I don’t already know about,” he said.

“Oh,” I said, hesitating. I didn’t know if I wanted to bore him with my father-boy issues but I figured that he’d count that as a problem. Blade was a good listener; it was one of the many things I’d learned about him in the past few days.

“I’m not sure whether my dad wants me to be happy or not,” I admitted. Blade looked over at me.

“What are you talking about? Of course he does,” he argued. I shook my head.

“No, I don’t think so,” I objected. “It’s like he’s trying to shield me off from the world. He doesn’t let a boy in the house without doing a full body search to make sure he doesn’t have anything that could get me in trouble. It’s like he expects me to be okay with being alone for the rest of my life when he knows I don’t want to be.”

Blade remained silent. I glanced over at him. He was just staring at me at a complete loss for words.

Then he moved his head and stared up at the ceiling again, sighing. I didn’t mind him not commenting on my situation with my dad. Most people would keep quiet as well, but the silence would be awkward because I would be able to practically hear all of their thoughts while they tried to figure out something to say. For once, this silence was comfortable. I looked at the ceiling again as well.

“It sounds like you’re afraid to fall in love,” he said. I shook my head.

“I’m not,” I said, although a small part of me was convinced that that was the situation, and I was afraid of falling in love.

“Then what are you afraid of?” Blade whispered, breaking the silence that passed over us again.

“You,” I admitted. I wasn’t lying. I was a little bit afraid of him, but for reasons unexpected to most.

“Me?” he asked, glancing in my direction and raising his eyebrows in confusion.

“Yeah,” I replied, nodding. “You’re really hot. It’s kind of intimidating.”

Blade laughed. “You’re hot too,” he said. I blushed and smiled, closing my eyes. I heard Blade move against the carpet and opened my left eye to look over at him for a quick moment. He was staring at the clock on the back wall by the doors.

“We should get back to class,” he said. I nodded and pushed myself off the ground. Blade followed shortly behind me and we left the theatre, heading back to the drama room.



“Marcy?” I asked her as I fished through my backpack at the end of the day.

“Yeah?” she asked, glancing over at me.

“Do you still have my gym shorts from last semester or did you give them back and I just misplaced them?” I asked, lifting my head and looking around inside my locker for anything that looked like my gym shorts. I didn’t have gym this semester but I always kept an extra pair in my locker just in case because Marcy did have gym this semester and she had a tendency to lose things.

She paused, before her eyes went wide. “Oh, crap! I left them in the change room!” she hollered, groaning and running her fingers through her hair in frustration. I smiled.

“It’s okay. I’ll get them. Call me later, okay?” I said, closing my locker and putting the lock back on it. She nodded.

“Okay. Sorry about that, Chris,” she said. I shrugged and hiked my backpack onto my shoulder.

“It’s no big deal,” I said, waving to her and heading down the crowded hallway, down the stairs and toward the gym. I pushed opened the girls change room door and found my gym shorts hanging off the side of the bench. I grabbed them and stuffed them into my bag.

As I left the change room, I heard the noise of someone dribbling a basketball inside the gym. Curiosity got the best of me and I stepped inside, glancing around the corner. Blade stood at half court, shooting some hoops. I walked across the floor toward him and when he sensed my presence, he looked over. A tiny half-smile grazed his features.

“Hey Chris,” he said.

“I didn’t quite answer your question,” I blurted. “You asked me what I was afraid of and I didn’t tell you the whole story.”

Blade put all of his weight onto his right foot and placed the basketball under his arm. He tilted his head to the side. “Go on.”

“I uhm . . . I think you were right.”

He raised an eyebrow. “About what?”

“My dad’s driven off every guy I ever liked as soon as I started hanging out with them,” I said. “And I’m scared that it’s going to keep happening, and if I actually do fall for someone completely, he’s going to try and drive them away too.”

Blade’s shoulders slumped forward. “He loves you, Chris. He’s your dad. I’m pretty sure when the right guy comes around, he’s not going to get scared off by him, and your dad will know that you care for him enough to not let him get in the way,” he said. “Besides, the guys that run when things get a little tough are the ones that aren’t right for you.”

“Maybe,” I said, nodding. “But that doesn’t stop me from thinking that even if the right guy does come around; my dad won’t try to make me fall out of love with him.”
“So, wait . . . what you’re saying is . . . Oh.”

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. “You were right about what you said before,” I admitted. “Every girl wants a fairytale. They want a guy who’s going to stick with them, no matter how hard it gets. They want guys who will sneak in through their windows just to see them, even if it is the middle of the night.”

“And you’re scared your dad’s not going to let that happen.”

I nodded. “I’m scared that when I do get a fairytale guy, it’s not going to last. So yeah, in that case, I am scared of falling in love.”