Before Her: An Alec Hardy story

Chapter one

Sam's point of view~
Quiet, that's all I want, some bloody quiet. I carry my bagged lunch and a book toward the fringe of the campus toward a nice tree. Perfect. I gently sit and smile, tucking my legs under me due to the stupid dress my mother insists all ladies wear. It was calf length, only one petticoat thankfully, a mix of a bright blue background and large yellow flowers. 'It's what all the ladies wear, floral print' my mother always said. I sat with my legs tucked gently under me and open the plain brown bag. Inside, an apple, half a sandwich, and a note, reminding me to watch my calories. I frown a little folding the notes over so the most likely meant to be encouraging words of my mother could not be seen, and use it as a small plate instead. I smile a little and bite my lip, 'The ants will get it that way' said a quiet, male Scottish voice said and I jumped hard looking up as he looked wide eyed, like he didn't even know he had spoken himself. He was tall, thin, a sad, almost puppy-dog like face already, a cigarette between his lips. I blink a little and gently lift up my stuff, "I-I'm sorry, I didn't know this was your spot, I'll leave" I said softly and worriedly keeping my head down. He wasn't with the other lads, the ones that smoked at lunch. The ones that laughed and hid behind the side and pushed each other. He was all by himself. When the Shock finally wore off his he shook his head dropping the lit butt and crushed it into the dirty, 'no no! Shit, I'm sorry, you don't have to run off' he said and rubbed the back of his neck as I shift a little. Most people here said the exact opposite. Everyone had their little clicks, their friends, I had no one. I held my lunch and he bends his long frame down picking up my book and dusting it off a little holding it out. I gently take it and bite my lip, "why aren't you with the other boys smoking?" I asked softly tucking some warm, chocolate hair behind my ear, 'then? God those wankers give me a headache' he grumbles and I smile a little as despite the fact he couldn't be more than seventeen, he sounded like an old man. He seemed to be weighing the pro's and cons of continuing the conversation, 'you're that new girl right? The one that skipped grades?'
I node and sigh softly. The amount of times I had already been asked that was staggering. "Yes, Samantha, Sam" I whisper and hold my hand out. My mother would have been mortified to know this was how I greeted people. Such a male name, my hand extended in place of a light curtsy. My father would have of course found her disapproval hilarious. It was already 1981 and woman were stirring more and more of a fuss up about equality. I once asked Mother if I could go to a woman's rights rally, she was very quiet the rest of the night and made me clean all the dishes twice. He looked at the hand before gently taking and shaking it, 'Alec...' he said just as the bell to end lunch sounded with a shrill cry.