Full Throttle

Chapter 8 - Blank Space

Another day, another long and boring 7 hours at school. I've just walked through the entrance to my psych classroom and it's first period. With next to no motivation, I walk across the linoleum floor with my shoes clicking against it and make my way to a desk in the centre of the room. I pull out the wooden seat in front of the desk and slump down onto it with a sigh. I riffle through my backpack, take out my textbook and notes and sit waiting for the class to begin. 

Despite feeling no excitement about the school day ahead, I can't wait to meet up with Melissa this afternoon. I literally cannot stop thinking about it. It just feels like everything that happened yesterday was fated. I mean, what are the odds that I would be outed to the whole school and then have Anna who I haven't spoken to in ages decide we need to have a conversation? What then, are the odds that I would make up the whole fake girlfriend story to Anna? Finally, what are the odds that Melissa would be merely a few feet away from us and would jump into the conversation to save me from making a fool of myself? Well, I'll tell you: practically zero!

Especially after talking with my mom, I am feeling completely certain that I made the right decisions for me yesterday. The healthy ones. In all honesty, I don't seem to do that as often as I should, putting myself, my self-respect and my self-worth first I mean, so I am genuinely proud of myself for doing what is right for me for once. Getting out of what I now realise was a massively toxic friendship was also a plus.

"Everyone, open up your textbooks to page two hundred and seventy-three!" our very enthusiastic psyche teacher, Mr Andrews, called out.

I do as instructed and the rest of the class passes by as we make our way through the textbook, watch Mr Andrews present an intricate and colourful slide show and take notes on the history of psychology. After that, the rest of my classes go by just the same until it is finally time for lunch.

I'm walking towards my locker with my rucksack on my back with books in my hands thinking about what I'm going to have for lunch when I get severe deja vu. I think I must be dreaming as I get closer to my locker because just like yesterday, there is someone standing there, looking over at me and clearly waiting to talk to me.

I let out a sigh. Can't the universe give me a break with these really weird locker conversations? Apparently not though because the second I get within earshot of the person standing beside my locker, she starts speaking to me,

"Hello," she says oddly formally with her arms across her chest. "My name is Lily."

I give her a confused look as I try to remember whether or not I know who she is. She's got very curly, black hair that goes down to her waist and spills over her petite shoulders like a waterfall. She has eyes almost exactly the colour of onyx, Mediterranean-looking olive skin and the highest cheekbones I think I've ever seen in my entire life that look like they could cut through glass with ease. Despite her dainty form, she's actually pretty tall and I have to make a conscious effort to turn my gaze upwards so that I can actually look her in the eyes. She is undoubtedly beautiful but I would swear on my life we've never met because I do not recognise her one bit.

"Hi," I respond awkwardly. "I'm Isobel."

She sighs and rolls her eyes dramatically. "I know who you are," she states as if it was ridiculous of me to think otherwise. "Listen, Izzy, can I call you Izzy?"

I feel like I keep getting more confused by the minute. Who the hell is this girl? "I think let's stick with Isobel," I manage.

She nods and continues, "Isobel it is. So Isobel, I'm just going to cut to the chase." She giggles hysterically like she's just told the funniest joke in the world and I stare at her uncomfortably not getting whatever the joke is at all. "Pun not intended. We need to talk about you and Chase Donovan."

Once again, I bristle at her formality. She does know that I'm not interviewing her for a job, right? The mention of Chase doesn't make me feel much better either. "And why on Earth would we need to talk about that?"

"You see," Lily says, "I like Chase. Like really like him. The thing is, I was under the impression that you two were like... together or dating or whatever. Except now I'm hearing from everybody that you've got a girlfriend... so I was just wondering if there is actually anything going on between you and Chase."

It's always been kind of assumed by everyone that if Chase and I weren't already a thing that we would be at some point. I suppose I also thought we would be together eventually. That's why it should not have come as a surprise to me that people are shocked about me dating (correction: fake dating, but no one needs to know that) someone else. I think I was just so focused on people knowing I was bi that I didn't really think about all of the other ramifications of me dating (once again, on a fake basis) somebody else. 

Unfortunately, because Chase has always been very desirable to the female and probably quite a sizeable percentage of the male population at this school, I can see quite a lot of these kinds of conversations in my future. How great is that?

"Look," I begin, "not that it is really any of your business but Chase and I are not, have never been and will never be a thing." I add, "In any way, shape or form."

The grin that spreads across Lily's face can only be described as the smile of the Cheshire cat: very, very wide. The smile looks almost too big for her face it's so large and it seems like she can't even believe her luck.

"Well," she manages to say, still smiling like a maniac, "thank you so much for letting me know. That really changes things for me."

I give her an uncomfortable smile in return. "You're welcome, I guess?" I say but it comes out more like a question.

Lily appears to take that as the end of the conversation and turns to leave but I stop her. I don't even know why I do it. Why would I think that it's my place to do this? I don't know the answer to that in all honesty but what I do know is that it's my duty to let her know the kind of snake's den that she is walking into. She may choose to ignore my advice but at least I'll know that I've tried to help her. "Wait," I say. "Just know that boys like Chase only want a relationship and love if it's torture. I guarantee that he'll make out like you're insane and the end of your relationship will leave you with a really nasty scar." I pause. "I guess what I'm trying to say is be careful. Chase is not as sweet and nice as he seems to be."

Her face changes and she seems a little offended as if it pisses her off that I would dare to criticise Chase. "Look, I appreciate you telling me all of that but I know Chase. He would never do any of those things to me. Not in a million years."

She seems so sure that he would never hurt her which reminds me of myself just a few days ago. I was so hopelessly in awe of him then, like she is now, and I genuinely thought that he could do no wrong whatsoever. I was living in a bubble for such a long time and I just seriously hope that the bubble bursts for Lily much sooner than it did with me and that she realises who the real Chase Donovan is before it's too late. Before she's let him truly know her and her inner-workings. Before she's allowed him into her heart. Before she's let him know her secrets. Before she allows him to betray her like he betrayed me or do even worse than that.

"I hope you're right," I reply. "If you're wrong though, don't say I didn't warn you."

She gives me a skeptical nod, seemingly not believing a word I've said, and proceeds to practically skip down the hallway away from me. I really do feel sorry for her because I know that she is in for a very rude awakening.

My stomach growling interrupts my thought pattern and brings me back to what I was originally trying to do: get some lunch. I look to the left and to the right of me and thankfully, I don't see anyone else who wants to have an awkward conversation with me. I open my locker door as quickly as I can, shove my stuff into it, slam the door closed and pretty much sprint to the cafeteria to avoid any more strange encounters. I mean, seriously! What does a girl have to do to get something to eat without being interrupted in this place?