I Don't Really Know...

Chapter 5: Hazel Eyes and A True Confession

I had a stupid, dopey smile on my face for the rest of the day.  Not that I really knew, I kinda just was still stunned by Preston.  

But why?  I've never really been interested in boys...and none have been interested in me, so...

I rolled my eyes and walked to my next class.  This was stupid.  

Science was my next class, and, my worst subject.  This was gonna go well.  The science room was, well, like a typical one.  Stuffed to the brim with posters of cells and cabinets with vials and tubes.  It didn’t take me long to notice a young adult in the corner of the room, watching me.  The science teacher was one of the tallest people I've ever seen, possibly the height of the whole room.  She was thin, with combat boots and black hair piled on top of her head in huge, natural curls.  Her big, bright hazel eyes were beaming, and she was obviously a science madman.  Woman.  

And I had arrived first.  She started running toward me, her boots clacking on the floor, and she grabbed my hand and shook it fiercely.  

"Well, hello, there!  And what is your name, young lady?!"  She bellowed, alarming me.  I was so stunned, I forgot how to speak.   She laughed.

"I'm not going to bite!  I might be energetic, but I'm not CRAZY, sweetie!"  She let go of my hand and smiled.

I beg to differ...

Kids started to file in after that.  The bullied girl was there, Alicia was there, which was bad news for both of them.  To add to my luck, Blondie was there too.

Ok, so, to sum everything up:

-Everyone who didn't like me was in this class.

-This class is my worst subject.

-My teacher is from the loony-bin (sorry, but it's true).  

I pick a seat in the back and put up my hoodie so people can't recognize me, which I prefer.  Someone sat beside me, but I didn't look up.  The teacher smashed her hands together to get everyone's attention.

"Hello, everyone!  My name is Miss. Greywood, and I'm your science teacher.  I'm going to start by having everyone introduce themselves to the person sitting next to them so we can know each other well and have a great time in this class.  Excuse me, young lady in the back, we are in an open environment!  Please take off your hoodie!" She winked at me and went to her desk.  "You'll all have 10 minutes, so make it count!"  

Oh, no.  10 minutes of pure torture.  

"Um, I think we kind of already know each other..." I could already hear a smile in his voice.  I knew that voice, I swear...and I was surprised to see...

"Preston!  Um, hi..." The dopey grin returned to my face, making me blush.  We both stared, then looked down at our shoes.  Again.  

"So..." He said, nervously.  "Let's talk," and he cracked a smile.  I grinned and nodded.

"You go first!" We both said at the same time.  We giggled, and he pointed at me.  

"Well, my name is Zoie Linda, I'm 17 years old, my favorite movie is, um, Pride and Prejudice, 2005 version...I play the piano, and...oh, I have a brother named Jaison..."  I started self-consciously rubbing my shoulder.  He mouthed, keep going!  

"Um, I live with my neighbor, Mrs. Lasdon, and that's kinda it...." I bit my lip.  Why didn't I just say that I lived in a regular house with parents?  He furrowed his eyebrows.

"You don't just live with your parents?  Why?  What happene-"

"NOTHING, Preston.  Nothing happened.  So just DROP it, ok?" I snapped, putting my hood up.  "Talking over."  He retreated, and looked guilty as ever when he sat forward at our table.  It was 10 seconds of good silence.   

"My name is Preston Parker.  I have 3 little sisters - Fey, Margie, and Lizzie.  I love drawing, and I love writing.  I'm new too."  He took a deep breath.   

"My Dad died in a car crash.  He was killed by a drunk driver.  My Mom, my three sisters, and I have been, kinda, having a bit of a hardish time. I mean, we have a house and everything like that...but you know..."  

Wait - what? I felt like a jerk and turned towards him and put my hand to my forehead.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't know...and I'm sorry for snapping at you, I...I'm just not ready to tell you...or anyone...what happened.  But I promise I'll tell you." I cried in a rush.

"It's ok.  I didn't mean to be rude or anything-”

"OK, class!  The 10 minutes is OVER!  Now, I just want to hand out a sheet with some rules and guidelines..."  

The rest of the class was uneventful, though I couldn't stop thinking about Preston and what he said.  Why would he tell me that?  I barely knew him, and he barely knew me!  He couldn’t trust me, could he?  I could be anyone!  One of those girls who only care about their makeup and looks!  A spy for a foreign country!  OK, that last one is unlikely, but who knows, really?  

But, him telling me about what happened...could he already trust me?  I blush, and put my hood up again.  

We were silent for the rest of the period.

That blondie stared at me for the whole class, looking at my features questionably.  She was probably deciding if I was cool enough to get into her group, I guess.  Yeah, right.  Good luck with that, Blondie.  

I’m figuring that you want to know what Blondie looks like.  Obviously, platinum blond hair, and the perfect set of light-blue eyes that all girls want.  Skinny arms and skinny legs, skinny waist.  Skinny.  She was probably a sporty girl.  Probably a teacher’s pet.  Probably the perfect girl.  I mean, she had a perfect everything.  I forced myself to stop thinking about her, and heard my teacher talk about the fire drill procedure as if she just cured cancer, almost.  

Finally, class ended.  I gathered all of my stuff and walked out of the classroom.  I kept tripping in the hallway with my sneakers, scuffing them on the polished, wood floor and stumbling.  I tripped the way down to my locker and couldn’t even open it.  It was jammed.  I slammed on it with my fist and clenched my jaw.  Luckily, everyone around me were too busy to notice me having a boxing fight with my locker.  While everyone filed out of the hallway to walk to lunch, I heard someone clear their throat behind me.  

“Um, do you need some help?” I turn, only to see the victim of the bullying standing behind me.  I point to myself, as if asking if she’s talking to me.  She nods, no smile.  

“Uh-sure, yes, please-” I say, mumbling the words.  I move over, and she motions me to give her the combination.  I dig into my pocket and fish out the piece of crumpled paper, dropping it into her hand.  She twists and turns, bangs it, and the door swings out, hitting its neighbor.  A loud bang interrupted the silence of the hallway.  

“Thanks.”  I put my hand in and feel around for my lunch money.  $3.00 appears in my hand when I pull it back out, and I stuff it into my pocket and slam my locker door shut.  She follows me to the lunch room.  We walk in sync, not talking, but not complete awkwardness.  I figure I’ll just try to make small talk.  

“So...how’d you do that?  Open my locker?” I asked, curious.  She allowed a small smile, but it didn’t look very real.  

“Oh, you just enter in the combo then bang it once.  Always works.” She replies quickly.  

“What’s your name?  I never really got to know…” I asked nervously.  Why would she tell me her name?  Didn’t she recognise me as the bystander?  

“It’s Mila Allen.  Nice to meet you.” She just nodded and we kept walking.  

“I’d love to go to lunch with you, but I have to go to extra help-there’s a math test coming up.” She waved goodbye, smiled, and went down the opposite hallway.  I waved back, and was kind of confused.  Anyhow, I finally found the cafeteria.  

Oh.  My.  God.  

I’m at a loss of words at this place.