à la folie

The table was very, very wooden. It had dust surrounding it, I could see the motes dancing in the slants of sunshine slipping through the crème blinds that flapped like bat wings in the light, warm breeze escaping from the open window. It had that smell to, the distinct wooden smell that wriggled up your nose and wound down your throat.

Indents littered the table to, scratched out names and insalubrious comments invaded my eyes with their light stark mark against the deeply brown varnish. The human race was so...pretermission about their behaviour to one and other. It was so twisted what people could do to each-other, could say to each-other.

That might be one of the reasons I didn’t talk that much. Because of what people said. They could say so much and mean so less.

They could say anything.

“Fleance Dalton?” I looked up at the call of my name, and so did several other students- interested in the unfamiliar name. “Come here please” Quietly, I got to my feet and made my way to the front, suddenly attracting a lot of unwanted attention from fellow students sat at the decaying desks. I hated people watching me.

“The office sent you this, and asked if you wanted a guide?” The teacher was sat upright in his chair, in a very self-assured manner. His name was Mr Cook, and I had gotten the idea that he was one of the nicer teachers, and his warm smile and eyes proved that. There was a pause, then I realised I had to answer.

“Do you think I’ll need one?” I wasn’t quite sure, I’d rather not have someone giving me a headache, but getting lost wasn’t ideal, either. Mr Cook smiled, seeming to take it as some kind of joke.

“This place can get a bit confusing. Any requests on whom?” I stood blankly for a moment “Anyone you know already?” he pressed

“Lesley” Mr Cook raised an eyebrow at my one word response.

“Lesley O’Conner?”

“I don’t know”

“On the small side, blonde, has one of those...” He gestured to his nose, his hand making a claw U-shape “Nose things...”

“Sounds like him” Mr Cook nodded, and peered down at a piece of paper.

“Well, he should be here by now, sit back down and I’ll break the news to him when he graces us with his presence” I nodded and took the piece of paper from him, tucking it into my pocket without even looking at it before heading back to the scratched up table I’d mentally labeled as ‘mine’.

Before I reached the table however, my passage was stopped by an enthusiastic looking girl jumping up in front of me, by the smile on her face I could tell what she was about to do and moved slightly to the side. Her hug, obviously meant for the amusement of the rest of the class, missed by an inch and she staggered forward, a few heads turned. The whole class giggled. Paying her no more heed I slipped behind my desk and sat back in the chair, studying the classroom and studiously ignoring the looks coming my way.

“O’Conner!” my attention crawled to the front of the classroom, where the short blonde boy who smoked with me froze mid tip-toe, an over-exaggerated pained expression on his face, teeth bared and face crunched up.

“Mr Cook, didn’t see you there...” he replied, turning slowly round while straightening up and putting his hand on his neck, his whole body language awkward.

“I’m sure you didn’t Lesley. Now before your slink off to your seat, I need a word with you” He beckoned him other with one finger and Lesley obliged, obviously expecting the worse. Meanwhile, I couldn’t help but notice how much better Lesley looked in the light, his hair shone and his skin had a healthy glow to it, he looked nice. Except for his jeans, a washed out blue. I stopped a grimace from creasing my features.

I really didn’t like blue.

“Fleance?” I looked up from the table at the call of my name, Lesley stood at the front of the aisle grinning. “Guess who gets to show you around all day?” He grinned and I managed a small smile, already feeling a vague sense of discontent at choosing Lesley.

He was so much more sober at night.

Happily Lesley came down the corridor between the desks and took a seat next to me; turning his seat round to face me he studied me carefully.

“I like your eyes” The comment hung in the air like molten dust, layering the discomfort I was feeling with lead. He liked my eyes. My dead, shallow eyes.

“Thanks” I nodded, lacing my fingers together on the table in an attempt to distract my hands from their wanderings to the pack of cigarettes tucked safely in my pocket. After that, Lesley smiled in a very odd manner and sat up on the desk, poking the head of a blonde girl in front of us, she turned around in a swish of perfectly straightened hair and raised an eyebrow.

“Fleance, this is my sister, Annabelle, my dear sister, this is Fleance. He’s new, and British” She ran her eyes over me then nodded, shifting around in her chair so she was facing backwards, the white-haired girl next to her doing the same.

“Say something” demanded Annabelle, staring right into my eyes. I dropped her gaze and shifted uncomfortably, Lesley nudged his sister.

“Pam said you’re accent is cute, I want to hear it, pretty please?” The white-haired girl laughed at this and Annabelle wriggled her hips, knocking her.

“This is Emma” said Annabelle, gesturing to Emma.

Emma. That name sounded so familiar. It wasn’t an unusual name, so I was bound to have heard it before, but there was something about it. I frowned, something important. I don’t think I ever knew anyone called Emma, well, knew them personally, I never made friends in the orphanage, and I lost everyone in my old school when sleepless nights began. When I ended.

Why was I even thinking? Blue made me stupid.

“Fleance? Anyone in there?” called Lesley, waving a hand in front of my face; I blinked slowly then looked over at him, not forming any words. He rolled his eyes.

“Annabelle has been talking to you for the last ten minutes...” He explained, pointing to the blonde girl in front of him, his eyebrow raised.

“Oh”

I think he wanted me to say sorry.