Temporary Love

Seven

It's been half an hour since I've escaped to get her. I already look the part in this somehow acceptable outfit. I have no idea where I'm going, but I don't want to go back. He wouldn't look here, right? Right?!
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Whose house is this anyway?
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Another day, another annoying whoever. What period is it anyway? What are we learning? Am I even in class? The white noise of people talking gives me the feeling that it's lunch, but I have a feeling that it's still dull looking outside the window. I think the streetlights are still on, too. So it might just be a talkative morning. Or I'm at breakfast. I could just open my eyes and check. But I don't feel like opening them. I just want to sleep. Why does school start so early? I just want to go home.
"Students we have a new pupil today!" Someone, most likely whatever teacher, said with unreasonable excitement. I can feel her bouncing with too much glee. It was kind of, well, annoying as I said earlier. Seems like I'm in homeroom with Mrs. Field.
A girl walked in. She had long blonde hair and quite large rectangular glasses. The glare bouncing off of them from my perspective, hiding her eyes. Her skin was so pale that it looked like it blended into her hair. She wore a white tee-shirt and a blue jean skirt that actually met the school's dress code. A headband with devil horns sat on top of her head, and white converse on her feet. She fits in, yet stands out. She might be popular, then. . . Maybe a nerd? Not to be stereotypical, but she looks like one. You never know until it happens. I just hope she stays at least one arm's length away from me in all ways possible.
"Hello, my name is Lucy Ford and I hope I could be great friends with all of you." She had that awkward smirk-smile on. The one that says that she's throwing out some bullshit. She looked nervous as she walked towards where I was. Apparently, the seat next to me was empty. I'm pretty sure it wasn't the only one, so either she was too lazy to actually go to the back like the slightly taller than average, shy girl that she is, or I'm just being selfish and this was actually the only empty seat. I spoke too soon about the arms-length thing.
She turned to me. I couldn't see it because the lenses were still reflective, but I felt like she had hope in her eyes. "Hey, I'm Lucy Ford.... and repetitive." She beamed while holding her hand out.
I looked at her hand and noticed the dark red nail polish and black bracelet she had around her left wrist. She must be left-handed.
I reached to shake her hand. "Julia Smith and not repetitive," I replied jokingly, connecting our hands together - awkwardly because I'm right-handed - and shaking them in sync. I don't think she caught the joke. Her palms were rather sweaty. She must be extremely nervous. I'm probably thinking too much into this.
"Hey wanna see something cool?" Lucy asked, trying to get a conversation going. She's trying to fit in so hard, but she is failing miserably with that happy-go-lucky, eight-year-old attitude. At least with me. Others might like her. And talking with me?! I'm not exactly popular. Or as I say it: I'm not a complete idiot that bases her life on ten pounds of makeup and sex with the football team. I have a funny story about that. I'll remember it later.
"Um, Sure." I started. I spoke a bit late since the speaker with the announcements interrupted me.
"Good morning, Sunset High. My name is Ka—"
I cleared my throat since it was slightly itchy. Then continued talking. "Why not?" I replied, a little bit eager to see what she was going to show me.
She took off her glasses, yet her eyes were closed. "These are opaque lenses." She said, shaking them in between our eyes. That explains why I can't see her eyes, but not why she has them close— oh wait. No. She just opened them. Her eyes shone a blood-red not too different than her nail polish. She is completely matching, but I just have on the first set of clothes I picked out this morning — which happens to be a long-sleeve 'messy hair, don't care' shirt and black jeans — so do I even know what matching is? She makes me feel so bland.
"Wow. Wait how?" I was confused on how this is. In seventh grade I learned — yes, believe it or not, I learned — that people could only have shades of brown, blue, or green eyes. I don't think red is close to either of those. Something is up with her.
"I don't know. I was just born with it." Is she lying to me? It sounds like she's telling the truth. She was probably confused and sad when she first noticed that she was different.
"So why do you wear them?" I asked on the edge of my seat.
She put her unprescribed glasses back on. "Well when I was little, everyone thought it was cool. Then a few years back, when I was still in Oregon, people started getting suspicious about how I had red eyes. They started calling me a freak. They bullied me. Then my family moved. I'm usually at school or home and my parents are at work pretty most of the time. . . more like all of the time." She mumbled the last part.
I started to get nosey and that was a bad thing. "Same. You don't have any brothers or sisters?"
"Well, I had a little sister." Lucy trailed off.
"Had?" I asked. I hope this wasn't sad.
"When we were—"
I cut her off right there. "Sorry to interrupt, but we just met. It's not my place to know about what happened."
She waited a moment, kind of put back by my unexpected interruption. "Well, you're right. I might tell you another time, huh?" She replied with a wink.
I felt my face heat up. "Oh, sure, well. . ." Now I was the one that was put back. She just winked at me. I've never had a girl wink at me before. Let alone a boy. "What do—" I squeaked before clearing my throat. "What do you like?" I asked a little bit awkwardly. It was a good awkward. Laughable, even. Like the knot your tongue gets in when you say a tongue twister. We literally just met. I can't like her. Even though we have some things in common like our parents not really being there, but at least my parents come back to check up on me and make sure I'm doing good in school, which I'm usually not, but they still come. Yet, she's pretty okay in my book.
"Well, I like writing and drawing," Lucy exclaimed in a normal tone. She grabbed an odd backpack — shaped like an extraordinary large cheeseburger — from her side and pulled out two notebooks. One of them was a dark red with a white 'W' imprinted and the other a lighter red with a black 'A' imprinted.
"I'm just going to guess your favorite color is red." I assumed.
"How could you tell?" She joked with a chuckle. She had a cute laugh, not even gonna lie.
"So what's with the pack?" I asked. It was very peculiar. You don't see bags like those around. I think it's a book bag. I mean, look at my bag. It's just navy blue with two or three pockets. "That thing has to have at least, what?" Bun, cheese, lettuce, meat, tomatoes, other bun. . . "Six pockets?!"
"Well, you're not wrong." Lucy started. "But that doesn't make you right." What?
"Okay, class. Remember that the Fall Freak-show Frenzy is this Sunday. And for once, I don't have to be a chaperone." Mrs. Field snickered that last part to herself.
"What's that?" Lucy asked, giggling at the alliteration.
"Kinda like a Halloween dance, I mean, most people go in regular clothing because it is a dance, but we have the option to dress up," I replied, slightly eager because of it.
"Neat. We can scare the shit out of people without getting in trouble." Was all she said.
"Yes, exactly! We should get matc—"
"Pre-paid tickets are also being sold starting tomorrow." The teacher said, cutting me off once again.
"What—"
"And your third to fourth quarter elective fees are due Monday." Why do you have to be a piece of shit, Mrs. Field?
"What sho—" A large annoying bell 'rung' throughout the room, school, and maybe next few neighborhoods.
"Forget it," I told Lucy, completely agitated because everyone and everything wants to interrupt me today.
And when I say 'rung' I don't mean like brrrrrriiiiiiiinnnnngg or like an actual bell or something. It was like a long, unpleasant single tone of a broken tuba playing, I don't know, C flat or something. Whatever the lowest note is. Most students tried to get to their next class in hopes the noise would stop, but Lucy and I stayed behind in the same seats. I guess this was her first period, too. As I look at no one passing me, I remember.
I came here late. I am in the back.
So she is shy and I was being a dick to think that thing that I thought earlier... Well, to be fair, I'm always a dick to most people. Lucy is one of the lucky ones that hasn't gotten on my bad side. At least not yet.
"So what's the rest of your schedule?" I asked.
"Um." She grabbed a piece of paper from the cheese pocket. "I have Math for first, obviously since we're in here now, Science for second, Visual Art, third-wave lunch, Creative Writing, English, Social Studies, and gym for seventh." Her voice was mostly excited besides the gym part. And social studies and math and science. Pretty much everything except for art, writing, and lunch. I was kind of the same when I got my schedule. Math, Science, Writing, third lunch, art, English, social studies, and...gym.
"Hey, we sort of have the same schedule. Except I have Creative Writing and Art switched." That's weird but probably nothing. A bunch of people have similar schedules.
"So we pretty much have the same day?" She questioned. I nodded, a small smile forming on my face. I don't know why. It's like Lucy's smile is contagious. I wonder what she's so happy about.
"Oh, that's pretty cool! We'll have all day to get to know each other more!" She screamed a bit too loud.
"Miss Ford, please settle down. Okay class, take out your homework from Friday." Mrs. Field ordered. She still had that unsettling joy in her voice. She's usually uptight like every math teacher, but now she's...strange.
So it's Monday. Booooooo.
"Hey. Julia."Someone whispered.
"What?" I retorted, not even trying to guess who's calling me. Instead of a person, a small piece of paper crumpled into a ball hit the side of my head. I grabbed it from the floor and opened it.
'Wanna skip?' It read in a really nice cursive. Like, damn that looks like it was copied straight from the worksheet from third grade. 'At least until third period. Then we'll come back. Then probably skip again after fifth. -Lucy' There was a little heart after it.
Why did she sign it? Why is there a heart after it?! What?!
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What?!