Friday, I'm In Love

Wednesday
I couldn’t sleep last night. I kept playing everything over and over in my head. The almost kiss; the fountain surreptitiously splashing us as you pulled me from the steps; giggling as you ruffled my hair; watching you walk away…

I sighed contentedly but after more analysing, it seemed that a casual hair ruffle didn’t really feel like a proposal of any kind. A whisper of ‘I like you,’ didn’t seem to be something of merit compared to a kiss or whatever Cass got up to last night, which was a part of the reason why I couldn’t sleep last night and am still wide awake. Cass isn’t back yet and she’s not picking up her phone. She picked up once and all I could hear was a rushed “Hey Phoebe, I’m busy, see you later!” and has obviously turned her phone off since. I hate to think of what they’re doing, what they’ve done.

Why is it that ever since I was about… maybe 13, that it’s been like a race to have sex, just to be able to say that you’ve done it. Cass lost hers when she was 14. Tiffany’s lost hers, Frank has, and your older brother most definitely has… basically everyone in our year has: except me. I want so badly to believe that you’re still perfect, but I know you’re probably not. Virgins don’t shake their asses when they walk like you do.

It’s almost eight and Cass still isn’t back. I thank God that she gave me the key last night otherwise I’d probably be screwed.

I let my hair fall down around my shoulders and I realise the style Cass had given me had made my hair slightly wavy. It looks sort of… nice, I suppose, but I make a mental note not to tell Cass. I don’t know how to go about removing the make up around my eyes so I leave it there as it doesn’t even look noticeable anyway, throwing the key into my bag and heading downstairs to breakfast.

It’s still sort of early and I’m one of the first there, quietly collecting my food and placing my tray on a small circular table in the corner that only Cass and I sit at.
About five minutes later I see Cass, wearing last night’s clothes running towards me, “Hey Phoebe!”

“Hey, where were you?” I say, digging through my bag and handing her the key.

“It was late and Frankie told me to stay,” she said flippantly, sitting down on the chair beside me, “He wants to sit with me at breakfast.”

I nod numbly, “So what are you doing here?”

Why isn’t she waltzing around with ‘Frankie’, holding hands and making out in the broom cupboard?

“I came to get you because Frank was like ‘Oh, you should totally ask Phoebe to sit with us, she seems cool,’ and I was like ‘Yeah, she is cool just sort of shy,’ and then Frank goes ‘Mikey’s shy!’ and then Mikey was like ‘Am not!’ and we were like ‘Are too!’ and then I can’t remember much else because we started making out, so, yeah.”

I blinked before answering, “Alrighty, but… Cass, did anyone see you hanging out there last night? People might start to talk about you guys doing it-”

“We didn’t ‘do it’,” she laughed at my terminology, “We talked.”

“You talked?”

“Yeah, why is that hard to believe?” I didn’t answer for fear of getting beaten, “Anyway, c’mon!”

She took my tray over to the table Frank had just dropped his bag at, “Good morning, Phoebe!” he trilled.

He’s a morning person, like Cass. This will annoy me.
“Morning… have a good night then?” I said, quietly placing my bag beside my newly assigned chair at his table.

“Yeah, you?” he grinned at Cass who wasn’t paying attention but was flipping through my art book. I’m not good at art but I like doing something less intellectual once in a while.

“It was alright I guess, I was worried sick about Cass,” I said and Frank grimaced.

“Sorry about that, she did say she should go back but we were having so much fun…”

“I bet you were,” I giggled as I caught sight of you heading towards us.

“Oooh, new breakfast club members!” you squeal before heading off to the canteen.

I chuckle at your uncharacteristic squeal and within no time you’re sitting next to me, tucking into a bowl of Cheerio’s.

“How shall we initiate them?” Frank asks and Cass and I glance at them warily.

You wipe milk quickly from your mouth, finishing the mouthful so you don’t spray us with spit before saying, “I guess we should ask Gerard?”

“Why do you need to ask? Haven’t you ever initiated anyone?” asked Cass.

“No one’s ever been cool enough to be considered a member,” Frank said, laughing at the looks we were getting as the food hall filled with people, mostly from envious cheerleaders who would kill to sit where we were sitting.

“I bet you have little membership cards and everything,” I laughed, watching as you fought back a smirk; Frank frowned.

“It’s an epic club, I assure you-”

“What’s its name?”

Frank shrugged, “I don’t know… ‘The Breakfast Club’?”

“How original…”

Your brother arrived then, smiling at Cass and then looking at me curiously. I blushed slightly in embarrassment and looked away. Sensing the tension you say, “Gee this is Phoebe, Phoebe this is Gee…”

He looked at me for a few painful seconds before clearing his throat and saying, “I’ve seen you before…”

“Well, I’ve been going to this school for about… six years,” I said awkwardly. Fear laced with worry wormed its way into my mind; I wanted Gerard to like me but it didn’t look that way as he sat across from me on the other side of Frank and immediately started talking animatedly to Cass. I didn’t even know they knew each other but they just struck up a conversation out of nowhere. But I’m the problem child who no one likes.

I looked down at my oddly empty plate in confusion, “What the fuck…”

I turned to see you sniggering, “You weren’t eating it!”

I frown down at my once full plate, “I would have given it to you if you’d asked! I’m nice like that.”

“Yeah, okay,” you scoffed, moving back to your own breakfast. I smiled to myself before looking down at my palms. Gerard kept shooting weird glares at me and I fidgeted in my seat under his stare. I felt so insecure under his gaze, like I shouldn’t be allowed to sit with them.

I felt something brush against my thigh, but when I looked down, your hands were in your lap. Of course, I ignored it, I’m not the sort of girl who gets felt up often, but when it happened again I became suspicious. I looked up at you, a faint smile playing on your lips. I frowned slightly, placing my hands on my lap, ready to grab you next time I felt something on my leg.

Nothing happened. I must be crazy.

“So, how old are you, Phoebe?” I look up to see Gerard staring directly at me.

“Um… sixteen…”

“Huh…”

“Why?” I ask, confusion evident on my face.

“I was just wondering, you look really young,” Gerard says, and I’m not sure if he means it in a cruel way or not, “You know, you’re kind of small for your age.”

“Oh… yeah, well, my mom was pretty small…”

“Was?”

“Oh,” I say, trying to cover up the potentially fatal mistake I just made, “I meant to say ‘is’… my mom is pretty small…”

Why is your brother so goddamn observant?

“Hm…” he says and the table dips into silence. Frank and Cass are obviously confused as they make excuses to leave pretty fast.

“Hey, Cass I think you left something in my room…”

“Oh… yeah… let’s go… get… it.”

When they’re gone I see Gerard glare at me. Why does he hate me? He doesn’t know me.

Sensing my distress, you run your fingers along my hand quickly and I almost have a heart attack. I gasp inaudibly as our skin connects, your index finger tracing circles in the centre of my palm.

“I’m off then,” Gerard says, standing up, his breakfast untouched, “Bye.”

I can still hear his footsteps even when he’s long out of sight.

“Why does your brother hate me?” I whisper, as it occurred to me that maybe Gerard isn’t such a ‘good guy’.

You don’t deny it, yet you don’t speak at all. You merely stand up, shrug and leave me alone in the canteen. I don’t know where this leaves us. I almost run after you but I opt for the easier alternative; slumping in my seat, the first of the tears roll down my cheeks.

I don’t know what’s wrong with me.

♣

I had another free period today so I took my copy of ‘Of Mice and Men’ out into the courtyard and lay under the massive oak tree as the weather was fine. I was worried that my dress would end up flying up in the slight breeze. It was possibly the prettiest item of clothing I would ever own. A child could basically fit in it because I have this weirdly small build and it’s got this amazing flower pattern all over it. The sun always makes me tired so I flopped onto the grass and closed my eyes, resolving to make at least an effort o reread the first chapter of my book. I hate wasting my free periods like all the other kids do and ‘Of Mice and Men’ isn’t a very long book so it was ideal for a lazy Wednesday afternoon. I’ve only got one lesson left of the day and that’s art. I really need to finish my canvas, but to be honest; I’m not the most talented artist in the class.

I mused this for a little longer before sitting up abruptly, getting the fright of my life when I realised I was not alone. And for a fleeting moment I thought it was you.

“Jesus Christ!” I shrieked; Gerard merely smiled.

“Sorry, I move quiet…”

“Like Curley’s wife…”

“Huh?” he asked in confusion and I immediately flushed.

“You’d have to have read this to understand, sorry…” I replied quietly, showing him the book that had been resting on my stomach.

He snorted, “Oh my God, you and Mikey are perfect together!”

“Excuse me?”

“Only Mikey would understand something like that… anyway, I want to apologise. I’m sort of on my ‘Man Period’ as Frank likes to put it… I’m all… grouchy, so I think I acted a little weird this morning,” he scratched his head thoughtfully, “And I guess I was sort of worried about Mikey.”

“Why?” I asked curiously, you-related topics interest me greatly.

“Where to start?” he says slowly, “He’s been acting differently all week. All quiet and stuff in the common room and when I asked him what was bothering him he snapped at me which was totally unlike him. I even heard him singing in the shower!”

“God forbid!” I joked, chuckling but Gerard looked at me gravely.

“I’m serious, I hope he hasn’t like… turned to drugs or anything. I mean, I’ve been down that road and he helped me through it. He wouldn’t do that… surely.”

“I don’t know… I’ve only been friends with him for a couple days,” I said, trying to be helpful but obviously something clicked in Gerard’s head and he sat up quickly, glancing at me.

“I bet it’s some girl!” he cried, triumphantly, “You seen him with any girls? Tiffany maybe?”

“Tiffany? God no!” I laughed, “You do know who Tiffany likes don’t you?”

“Dude, she’s always hanging around us…”

“Let me just say this, Mikey isn’t the Way brother Tiffany likes…”

His face contorted in pain, “Oh no… please don’t say you think-”

“Oh yes!” I laughed, “Tiffany has a little crush on you.”

“You’re enjoying this aren’t you?”

“Yes,” I replied, “You guys are gonna get married and have little peroxide blonde children!”

Gerard groaned and glared at me, “Ugh… this year is gonna suck!”

“At least someone likes you…” I muttered quietly, thinking back to last night and what could have been.

He thought for a moment before a weird look flashed across his face and he smirked at me, “Oh, someone likes you alright, honey. You just got to wait a little while. He’s shy.”

“Who?” secretly relishing in the fact that Gerard was suddenly acting all friendly with me after giving me the cold shoulder this morning.

“Wouldn’t you like to know…” he said in that annoyingly secretive tone of his, “Anyway, care to tell me why you’ve been crying?”

I stared at him, “What?”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t!” Gerard produced a little square mirror from his pocket and showed me my reflection, “Now spill!”

I looked into the glass and saw faint black lines running all down my face, “Oh God… I hate Cass!”