Mixed Signals

Chapter 2: The Note

All day, the rumors followed me, like a white girl to Starbucks.

The only reprieve I had was in art, my last period. I stepped through the door frame of the class just as the tardy bell sounded. I didn't mind about being late, because my teacher, Mrs. Whitney, loved me and was chill. She didn't even look up to count me tardy. I walked in the colorful classroom and plopped onto a stool next to Ethan near the door. My table consisted of 4 boys, all of which where freshman except for Ethan-thank god he was in one of my periods. I got used to it though, and sometimes, when the freshman felt like it, they could be pretty nice and actually listen to what I was saying instead of furrowing their eyebrows and listening to screamo to get all their teenage angst out. At least I had one real friend at the table. I sighed as I reluctantly pulled out my battered sketch book and thought about the day.

First period hadn't been so bad, except the teacher kept dragging on her lecture for what seemed like hours. Second and third weren't bad either, except in third I had received another project. Oh joy... Fourth, fifth, and sixth always went the same, with the teachers mono-logging their lectures and wearing the same expression on their face that basically said, I'd rather teach a bunch of prostitutes than seniors who don' t give a shit. And here I am with seventh period, with a teacher who doesn't care what you do and lets you be on your phones or skip class without counting you absent. I peered around the classroom to see who actually hadn't skipped class. A bunch of whores sat in the corner, along with some nerds in the middle table. Most of the class was probably skipping or smoking weed in the bathrooms.

As I opened my sketch book to start something new to pass the time, Ethan turned to me, looking up from his phone. "Hey Ashy, how has your day been?" I laughed at the mention of my old nickname, one only people close to me used. "It was alright. Boring and uneventful as always. How about you?" As we exchanged some small talk, the door opened and a front office messenger came in and gave a note to the teacher. I payed little attention to it, because student messengers always come in to tell kids their being released early or to give messages to the teachers. Mrs. Whitney stood up, and through my peripheral vision, I could see she was walking towards me. "Ashlyn, honey, here's this. I'm not sure what it is but i'm sure you will understand. Good work on those sketches!" She exclaimed, pointing to some old drawings of hands I had worked on.

"Thanks, Mrs Whitney. Um, do you know what this is about?" I asked, staring at the little slip of paper. I usually never get notes to the front office, because both my parents work, one in the Navy and one as a teacher, so I never got to go home early. Plus, I usually just drive myself where I need to go in my Mustang. Mrs. Whitney just shrugged and walked away, her paint-stained smock looking like an artwork on her shirt. I resumed my attention to the paper. "What is it? Ashy, give it to me! I want to see!" Ethan attempted to grab the paper out of my hand, but I swatted him away and pushed his arm back. It wasn't very hard because he was so skinny and had almost no muscle. I slowly read the paper.

Ms. Ashlyn,

This is a note from your coach, requesting that before practice, you escort our newest member on the swim team. He has just moved here from Washington. Please help him around school tomorrow and help him today at practice, welcoming him to the JCS Complex Turtles. You will find him outside the complex. His name is Christopher Smith.

Thank you for your cooperation and understanding.

Signed, Coach Jen.

Confusion spread across my face. I let Ethan read it since he was so eager, and he snatched it from my hand. As he started reading the strange note, I pondered what I just had read. There's a new member? We rarely get new members on the team. And what had made coach think I could show this new kid around? I could barely talk to strangers without either stuttering about a billion times or accidentally spilling my darkest secret. I sighed as I thought about the boy I was supposed to show around. What if hes hot? What if he's just a little freshman? What if...? "Hey Ashey! This is good! A new member on the swim team! Maybe a new love interest? Or even better, a fuck bud-" I jabbed Ethan in the ribs before he could say anything else. He moodily turned around and thrust the note in front of me. "Ugh.... Ethan, what if I say something weird? Or embarrass myself in front of him? I don't even know what he looks like!" Exasperated, I clung to the note. Ethan wasn't on the swim team, but he knew me long enough to know how it works and almost everything about it.

The rest of seventh period was a blur. I had tried to forget the note and the mystery new member. Before I knew it, the bell rang and loud sounds of chairs scraping over the floor could be heard everywhere, breaking my thoughts. I gathered up my sketchbook and stuffed it in my rucksack bag, and walked over to where Ethan was waiting for me, so we could go to our cars together. Time to go out into the rumors, I thought. I pulled my long sleeves over my wrists and swept my hair to one side. Even though it was hot, I loved the comfort and protection I felt when I wore shirts with long sleeves. I glanced down at my skinny jeans with tears and black converse. My usual wardrobe. It fitted my thick eyeliner, and the tight fitting shirts always outlined my curvy figure. As we stepped outside, rumors flew left and right.

Is that the girl?

That's Ashlyn, the whore with Jacob.

She's such a slut!

Ethan noticed and pulled me closer to him, as a sort of protection. I was thankful; as long as I had Ethan, I couldn't be touched. We walked with linked arms, singing Fall Out Boy as we headed towards the parking lot. As we walked, I couldn't help but let my mind drift to one thing in particular.

Who was the mystery boy I was supposed to welcome?

We were almost to the parking lot.

And would we become friends? Something more? Would he hate me?

We finally reached our cars, parked right next to each other on the edge of campus.

I shook my head and unlocked my Mustang, sliding into the front seat. "Bye, Ethan!" I winked and shut the door. He smiled. "Love yah, Ashey!" He called back, as he got into his little Hybrid. I pulled out of the parking lot, blasting some Fall Out Boy.

Time to head to swim and meet this mystery boy.

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Hi Guys!

Here is the second chapter. Sorry for the grammar mistakes I may have missed.

So far, I'm not sure how often I will be updating.

Let me know what you think of the story and characters!

-Gaby