Continuum (9 page)

Sam interrupts Liam, his face red with annoyance, “Grow up, guys.  We’re partners for the English midterm.  Fallon and I are just friends.  End of story.”  

“Yeah, that’s how it starts out,” Liam mutters under his breath.

Sam reaches over and starts rubbing Liam’s forearm playfully, “Jeez Liam, as my oldest friend, I guess you’re long overdue to be my lady.”  The table dissolves into laughter and the conversation flows to the other Homecoming festivities.

Fallon and Sam are just friends.  I wish I could believe him.

Fallon

It is Monday again.  My head feels much clearer after spending the weekend convincing myself I was doing the right thing.  The world almost makes sense again.  Even the weather seems to be cooperating for once.  With a spring in my step, I walk to school in the sunshine wearing only a thin, navy sweater over a white button down shirt and dark gray skinny jeans.  This is the closest to school spirit my attire gets.

When I enter the lunchroom, my eyes hone in on Ethan sitting at a table in the center of the crowded room with Mackenzie at his side.  The table looks oddly empty as they are without Mackenzie’s usual entourage.  Their are heads bent down close, I can only see the top of her shiny blonde waves and his unruly chestnut locks.  As they whisper to each other, her lips brush against his ear.  

My heart is thundering in my chest, surely the whole cafeteria can hear me.  Ethan points to something in the book sitting between them on the table.  Mackenzie nods and smiles at him, her lips a glossy bubblegum pink.  His lips curl into a shy smile in response.  Her hand is stroking his forearm possessively as talks.  She is lavishing her attention on him and he is drinking it up.  My insides twist and I desperately want to look away but can’t bring myself to leave.

I spot Emma, Chloe, and Sophia huddled by their lockers, probably observing their interaction so it could later be analyzed.  Chloe has Emma’s arm in a vice grip as she squeals frantically at the sight of Ethan’s face inches from Mackenzie.  The surge of adrenaline recedes, leaving me with a feeling like my head has disconnected from my body and I sway on my feet.  I feel ill, I should go home.

For the moment I am rooted to the floor, my legs not heeding my command to take me out of here.  I am an unwilling spectator of this mating show.  Ethan looks up from the book suddenly and our eyes meet.  His eyes burn with some unanswered question.  Unsure of what to do with myself, I make a 180 and head down hallway leading to the library.  

Moments later, I find myself gasping for air in the Biology aisle.  I grab onto a shelf for support, my legs still feeling wobbly.  A lump is rising in my throat and I swallow compulsively, trying to calm my breathing.  An unfamiliar sense of panic gripping my chest, the urge to leave and go home is strong.  My escape is thwarted by the sound of someone quietly clearing his throat.  

I manage to stifle back my scream but I jerk around so quickly, I knock a textbook off the shelf.  It falls open on the carpet with a quiet thud.  Standing behind me wearing an uncomfortable smile on his face is Sam.  Straightening the hem of my sweater, I make a quick swipe under my eyes trying to regain some semblance of composure.  I open my mouth twice before my brain can get my voice to work, “Good morning, Sam.”

“Morning, Fallon,” he replies, an eyebrow arched.  He shuffles from foot to foot, clearly uncomfortable.  For someone who has sisters, Sam did not deal with crying well.  “How are you this morning?”

Evasively, I answer his question with a question, “What are you doing here?”

“Don’t sound so surprised, I’ve been known to pull all nighters.  Well not really the type where you study all night.”  His lips part in an ear splitting grin, his amber eyes flashing with mischief.

Sam has the gift of making any situation feel less awkward.  

I lift my lips automatically in response, “Oh, you have a big test today?”

“Nah, I’m just messing with you.  I’m in mandatory tutoring.  Retaking Biology,”  He takes a book off the shelf and pretends to study the back cover.  “Uhm, I saw you run in here and I thought I heard you...  Is everything okay?”

Conversations involving feelings had always left both of us feeling awkward.  I swallow back the emotion threatening to bubble over again, “Yeah, I’m fine.”  I bend down and pick up the book I knocked over, not wanting to meet his eyes.  “Just needed a book.”

Sam hesitates and examines my face as I stand back up, he looks away as he continues, “I thought I heard you crying...”   Heat floods my face, I can’t believe I am having this conversation with him.  I don’t know who feels more uncomfortable at this moment.

Beyond mortified, the urge to disappear returns.  “No.  I, uh, was just trying to catch my breath.  I was running late this morning and I, uh, needed to get this book before it was checked out,” I finish lamely.  Right on cue, the bell rings, “Well, gotta run to class.  See you in English.”

Making a show of checking out the book and rushing out of the library, I turn left--in the opposite direction from my European History class.  Moving swiftly lest I run into a nosy hall monitor, I cut through an unused Chemistry lab and into an sparsely used hallway.  I exit out of a side door facing the far end of the football field.  As I enter the forest, a rush of cool air hits my face.  It is only then that I feel the warm trickle of tears streaming down my face.

Ethan

The final bell for first period sounds and European History starts with no sign of Fallon.  Even though she had barely acknowledged my existence these last few days, I actually feel disappointed when she doesn’t come to class.  I sag back in my chair, pretending to listen to Mrs. Douglas as she drones on from her notebook.

It probably hadn’t helped that I spent a good portion of the weekend angry at Sam for not telling me about his past with Fallon.  Even Scott made a lame excuse on Saturday as to why he had to hang up after half an hour of my ranting.  I had hoped to talk to Fallon this morning, but then Mackenzie cornered me as soon as I arrived. 

Then there she was, a specter appearing from nowhere standing across the cafeteria.  Then, of course, she saw me and promptly turned on her heel and left.  She can’t even stand the sight of me.  After she left, I acted impulsively.  I asked Mackenzie to go to Homecoming with me.  I threw in “as friends” at the end but I think she had selective hearing for that part.

Mackenzie apparently had no doubts that I would ask her.  Tucked inside my notebook is a list she had promptly handed me after saying yes.  It contains the address for a tuxedo rental shop, the acceptable colors and materials for my vest that would compliment her dress, and the colors and types of flowers she likes for her corsage.  

I could hear her texting furiously behind me.  Her phone vibrating with replies every three seconds.  I had text messaged Sam and Liam afterward and Sam didn’t seem too surprised.  In fact, he was acting a bit weird about the whole thing.  I know he doesn’t trust Mackenzie, but it’s just a dance.

Fallon

Mr. Murphy lets us work on our midterm during class.  Sam and I are in the final phases of putting together our presentation.  I'm having a hard time concentrating and have to ask Sam to repeat his question three times before I can answer it.  Mercifully, the morning has passed by quickly.  Or at least it’s been a blur.  As I'm rushing out of English, I run right into someone standing outside the classroom.  The pile of books in my arms scatter loudly down the hallway and I let out a curse as the hard corner of a book lands on my right foot.

My eyes travel from a hard chest in a gray henley to the blue gaze of Ethan Hayes.  How did he get here so fast?  He kneels down and starts picking up books as I hastily grab the remaining books and straighten myself up.  

He looks over apologetically, “I am so sorry, are you okay?”

I mumble, “No it was my fault, I didn't see you there.”  Ethan carefully stacks the books into a neat pile and straightens back up.

Without meeting my eyes, he places his stack on top of the books already in my arms.  “You weren’t in class this morning.”  He almost sounds disappointed.  He peeks down at me from a dark fringe of lashes and a shadow of emotion flashes through his eyes.  I’m transfixed by his stare and for a moment, I forget how to breathe.

Neither of us moves when the second bell rings.  I whisper, “I should go, I'm late for Calculus.”  

Ethan closes his eyes, breaking our strange connection and nods in agreement, “Yeah, Mrs. Bojovic is probably giving a pop quiz.”  I can feel Ethan's eyes follow me as I escape down the hall to Calculus.  

Mrs. Bojovic is at the board writing out an equation when I slip into the room.  She shoots me an annoyed look before going back to writing.  I take my usual seat in the back of the classroom.  I am staring absently at my Calculus book as the soft click of the chalk makes its way across the board.  There is excited murmuring and giggling taking place all around me.  The classroom door scrapes open and in comes Gina Thomas, head cheerleader.  She is carrying a huge bouquet of Navy and Silver balloons—Everest Heights's school colors.

I curse silently to myself.  It’s D-day.  Dance day.  I forgot today was the day the invitations went out for the Homecoming dance.  The tradition at Everest Heights is that the boy would send a bouquet of balloons along with an invitation to the dance and if she accepts the invitation, she returns the navy balloon. 

Mrs. Bojovic frowns at the disruption, but just nods for Gina to proceed and looks back down at her notes for today's class.  Everything about Gina is cheery and bouncy and full of school spirit.  She is decked out in her navy cheerleading uniform with a roaring silver panther and EHHS across her chest, she is even wearing navy sneakers with a silver stripe.  A navy bow is perched among her tight blonde curls which bounce excitedly as she reads off the names of the recipients of the invitations.

“Chloe Andrews.”  Chloe smooths out her denim miniskirt and adjusts her hair before sauntering up to the front of the classroom.  A faux modest smile is planted on her face like she's accepting an Oscar, not an invitation to a high school dance.  She pauses to read the card, smirking knowingly as she reads her card.  As soon as Chloe returns to her seat, she immediately starts texting in a flurry underneath her desk.

“Ana Garcia.”  Ana is sitting in the front of the classroom and Gina hands her the bouquet, giving her a playful, over-the-top wink.  Ana shyly accepts them and reads the card, her facing turning a brilliant shade of scarlet.

Gina pulls out the next bouquet and reads the name on front of the card.  She looks up and glances back down as if she's unsure what it says, but then her perfect white smile goes slack as her eyes lock in on me.  

“Fallon Pierce.”  It sounds more like a question than a statement.  The whole class turns around to look at me as I stand up and walk to the front of the room.  Even Mrs. Bojovic seems to be peering curiously over the top of her notes.  I accept the balloons from Gina who is looking at me with wide eyes, burning with curiosity.  Everyone is looking at me expectantly and I have to drop my eyes to the floor as I walk back to my desk without reading the card.  

Chloe shoots me an inquisitive look before looking back down at her phone, her pink tipped fingers flying over the keys.  The classroom is buzzing again as Gina quickly reads off the rest of the names and exits hurriedly—eager to spread the news. 

Mrs. Bojovic has to call the class to attention three times, before the talking subsides.  Under the cover of today's lecture, I quickly read the card.  Written in silver marker in neat concise handwriting, it reads simply, “Truce? -Ethan Hayes.”  I hastily fold the card and stuff it inside the back cover of my Calculus book.   I am surprised by his persistence.  Maybe confused would be a more appropriate word.

I hadn't exactly shown Ethan my friendliest side--not even sure I a friendly side--but here he was, holding out an olive branch.  I feel like the world’s biggest jerk.  It has been a long time since someone has tried to befriend me.  I'm unsure if this is something I should proceed with but the sentiment cracks my resolve.

“Miss Pierce?”  Mrs. Bojovic looks annoyed, she must have called my name several times.  “Do you have an answer for number 27?”

I reply without looking down at my homework, “Three cosine x plus four sine x.”  She glances down at her notebook and nods curtly before moving on to her next victim.

I wish my life could be as simple as handing someone a navy ballon.  I am still unsure how to respond to Ethan when the bell rings.  I sweep my things into my bag and reluctantly take the balloons with me.

When I step outside the classroom, I immediately sense something is wrong.  Taking a quick sweep of my surroundings, I spot Chloe standing by a bank of lockers, whispering excitedly to Mackenzie and Sophia who both collapse against each other in a peal of giggles.  Mackenzie catches my eye and a smirk spreads across her face.  She nudges Sophia in the ribs and their eyes travel from my face to the balloons.  Mackenzie reaches into her black leather purse and pulls out a silver marker and twirls it casually between her fingers.

In an instant, I am seeing red.  My blood is at a screaming boil inside my veins and seething anger takes over my body.  I fling down my book bag not caring where it lands.  I release the navy and silver balloons and they drift up toward the ceiling as I march over to Mackenzie and her cronies.  With a rage that has been building for a while, I shove Mackenzie hard.  The slim heels of her boots get caught in the worn carpet and she trips.  Chloe and Sophia reach out to catch her and help her straighten back up.  Emma appears and stands protectively in front of group of them with her arms spread.

The hallways are completely hushed as a crowd starts to gather around us to watch.  Mackenzie's voice seems to echo as she screams out, “What the hell is wrong with you?  Are you insane?!”

I spit back, “I always knew you were a coldhearted bit—”

My words get cut off because Mackenzie swings her designer purse wildly at me, hitting me on the arm.  Uncontrolled fury takes over my body and I am all primal instinct as I lunge at her, wanting to hit every inch of her I can reach.  I'm suddenly grabbed from behind, my arms  pulled back and pinned behind me.  I struggle to free myself, but the leather clad arms holding me back are too strong.