Talent...and what to do with it

Chapter 6: Jess

Running was never going to be my favourite pastime, but after those first few weeks. I had to admit I liked the results of the running. I was sleeping better, my body was in better shape, and my mind felt clearer. I liked getting up earlier and I liked spending time with Jonah. He was patient with me. Once he accepted how difficult I found the running, he worked very gradually to build up the pace and I started to improve. He really loved to talk and I was happy to listen and switch off from all the thoughts that usually filled my head. I liked his chat about bands and DJs and football and just about anything really. When we were running I forgot he was this popular, six-foot-three, good-looking boy. I even began to dare to be a bit sarcastic about how much he talked, and he teased me about my quietness. I liked him. I liked his confidence and I liked the way he treated me as if I was normal. I liked the way he was prepared to put the time into my training. If it weren't that Dad was paying him to be with me, he would have almost felt like a friend. The way we ignored each other on the bus and at school was enough to remind me that our arrangement didn't have anything to do with friendship.
And anyway, I wasn't entirely comfortable around him. When he hugged me after I finished the lap I felt so embarrassed. I knew it was just a celebration hug, and that it didn't mean anything, so why couldn't I have just laughed and hugged him back like most girls would? Instead I'd frozen and acted like an idiot.
But I loved my study time in the park while he ran. My thoughts felt sharper and crisper in the early morning air and I had a feeling of serenity sitting by the lake. It was a feeling that was getting harder and harder to find at home or at school.
The interview weighed on my mind. If I let it creep into my thoughts I would get a scratching feeling in my stomach and a place behind my eyes began to hurt. It was only during those mornings in the park that I could really escape it.
Sometimes I would look up and see Jonah's strong, elegant form running around the lake. It didn't interrupt my thoughts like some things would. Instead, seeing him calmed me. It was as if he was reminding me of that first conversation about jogging - some things were really as straight forward as putting one foot in front of another.
The mornings got slightly cooler and darker. It was a shock when at the end of a training session, Jonah asked me what I did at lunchtimes. I thought we understood our arrangement and were both happy with it.
"Er. Eat lunch." I didn't mean my reply to sound rude or sarcastic, but it was a pretty dumb question. I started stuffing my books in my bag.
"Yes. I mean, where do you eat lunch?"
"In the library, usually."
He looked at the sky. I think I was winding him up. "Of course. The library, where else? You know what? I am beginning to guess you like schoolwork. I would even go as far as to guess you and I aren't going to the Learning Unit for the same thing."
I inclined my head. I wasn't going to talk to him about my extra lessons so I asked him something I had been wondering for a while. "Why are you in the Learning Unit then?"
"Cos I'm thick." He fired it out automatically as if it wasn't an outrageous thing to say. I was going to ask more, but he went on, "I train during lunchtimes."
"What? Again?"
He lifted a corner of his mouth. This was our stand up routine. I acted like I really didn't get the point of just running round a track, while he tried to convince me how marvellous it was.
"The more I train, the faster I get."
"Oh. Right, like it all makes sense now." 
He laughed. "The reason why I am asking...what I am getting at is...if you ever wanted to study outdoors at school, there's always space in the stands at lunchtimes. No one else is ever there."
I looked sideways at him. If I wasn't mistaken he sounded a little bit nervous.
"What? Sit there while you run? Like I do in the mornings?"
He nodded. I thought about it. It actually sounded like a welcome break, even though it would be cold. The library was rarely peaceful these days. Most kids just used it as a warm place to hang out so it was hard to concentrate. If I could find at school some of the calmness I found in the park I would feel better. But I didn't trust him. Why would a cool kid want me hanging around?
"What's in it for you?" I said.
"You're suspicious, aren't you?"
"Yep."
"OK. To be honest, Jess. I run faster when you're there. It helps me concentrate." At that moment I realised I liked hearing him say my name in his lilting accent, and really liked that he automatically shortened it. He rubbed his short black hair, "Sorry that sounds lame."
"S'OK." I shrugged to hide the fact that I knew exactly what he meant and that I was pleased. "Maybe I will turn up at the stands."
"Good." He gave me that big smile that made me feel weird, weird in a good way, his caramel eyes dancing as if trying to coax something out of me. He sprinted away leaving me feeling dazed, like I'd stared at the sun too long.
I hadn't made up my mind what to do by the time the bell went for lunch the next day. I thought about sticking to my routine and going to the library as usual, but the sun was shining in that watery way you get when you know that it's going to be one of the last days of sunshine before winter strikes. I told myself that I went because I wanted to enjoy the weather. I told myself that I would be able to concentrate better in the quiet of the stands. But even then I think I knew that I just wanted to see him.
I slunk self-consciously into the stands, relieved that I couldn't see anyone about, except for Jonah's familiar figure out on the track. Was I kidding myself when I thought he sped up when he noticed me? Even from a distance I could tell he was smiling. I wondered if he was laughing at me. Had he organised for some of the popular kids to be hiding, waiting to Instagram me? I'd seen him with Josh and the others. That girl Lauren Jepson seemed to be always hanging on Jonah's arm. All I did know about him outside of running was that he was in the LU, and had strode into the midst of the chosen few popular kids as if it were the easiest thing in the world.  But even though I barely knew him, somehow I trusted him. He had enough strength of character not to set me up. He'd proven that that first day when he'd stood up for me on the bus, hadn't he? I opened my books and munched on a carrot stick and drifted into the comfort of calculus.
I was lost in my own thoughts, when suddenly I realised he had sat down in the row of seats in front of me. He'd spun round so he was facing me. He didn't say anything, just stared at me while he lifted his canteen sandwich and began chewing.
I had to look away. It was getting strangely uncomfortable to look at him directly, even though I wanted to. I bent my head to my lunch (a messy wrap that my misguided mother had made for me in an effort to give me healthy food).
Like I said, all my life I had been able to tune out the rest of the world at will. But here he was sitting looking at me, as if he was about to ask a question, and suddenly I felt like the world was beginning to intrude on the bubble of me. It was like his presence was distorting the air around me and instead of noticing nothing I noticed everything.
I could feel his knee inches from mine, could see each tiny fleck of dark stubble emerging on his jaw. I could hear his teeth work to chew on the crusty bread he was eating, and (I know this sounds crazy) it was as if I could feel the air reverberate with every flick of those long black eyelashes as he blinked.
I scowled at him. He stopped eating. "What?" My voice cracked, suggesting uncertainty.  Not a feeling I was used to expressing.
But he just stared back, chewing slowly and smiling.
Five minutes later and neither of us had said another word. But I was feeling thoroughly uncomfortable. I like silence. Silence was my refuge. But not this kind of silence when I was sitting across from a boy who unsettled me more than anyone had before and who I wanted to escape from whilst I remained frozen in my seat. Then he calmly stood up, and said, "Just wanted to prove to you that I don't talk all the time." He walked away.
I knew he was referring to the times I had told him he talked too much. Did that mean he replayed and catalogued our every conversation like I was beginning to do? I found today's silence more distracting than all of his chatter. There was part of me that was indignant that he could so easily wreck the familiar monotony of my days by just sitting across from me eating his lunch.
I tried to concentrate that afternoon during double science (usually one of my favourite subjects), but somehow all I could think about were his eyes and the unsettling slowness of that smile, when I was much more familiar with the sunburst of his grin.
It was a Friday. He didn't catch the bus. I don't know why. Probably more running round in circles I suppose. But all of a sudden I was in this horrible world. I noticed everything around me, but it was more than just noticing: for the first time I felt.
Of course, I felt things usually. I loved Mum and Dad. And I knew I really loved my little sister. I couldn't say that I wasn't used to strong emotions. I had been hit by them the moment Amelia gave me that smile. But these feelings were the same but very, very different.
I realised with a jolt that I was finally acting like one of those normal teenagers that I had never understood before. All I could think about was Jonah. I analysed every conversation we had had and berated myself for my lack of attention to detail. I thought about every look he'd ever given me and most of all I tried to make sense of that silent lunch. I had all these questions flying round my head that I wanted the answers too but couldn't bear to ask. Did he like me? Was he just messing with me? Who was I trying to kid? This good looking popular guy, liking weirdo me? Then came the horrible thoughts. He may be good looking but I knew he was being tutored in the LU. He'd said himself he was thick, how could I like him? I hated myself. I was an idiot. But this was one problem I couldn't rationalise my way out of. I just couldn't stop thinking about him.
Monday. The park again. I wanted to make an excuse and not go. But at the same time I wanted to see him. I tried to act natural but it was impossible. I was even quieter than usual when we ran and I barely listened to anything he said. I tried to study but my usual ability to be one step removed from the world eluded me. Instead I stared at the book whilst stealing looks at him, wondering why I had never realised I had all this privileged time with the best looking boy I had ever seen.
A week passed with me trying to stay away and failing. I hated him for making me notice him. For the first time ever teachers started telling me to focus. Every morning and lunchtime I would see him. He'd always come over and eat his lunch with me. I couldn't understand why he wanted to hang around with me when he could be with his real friends. He was never quiet like he had been the first lunchtime, but still I hardly spoke. I had this weird heightened sense of him when he tried to get me to talk to him, which made me watch his mouth, or his eyes or his hands, or the way he said something, and then I'd realised I was supposed to have responded and the moment had passed anyway. He must have thought I was crazy. But the moment I felt most ridiculous was when he asked me about my lessons.
"So, what are you studying for?"
"Er. Exams."
"Yep. But why do you have to study so much more than everyone else? And have that extra lesson and stuff?"
I was starting to blush. "You've seen me at the LU?"
"Yeah. Friday mornings you have the lessons, don't you?  What's that about?"
I couldn't talk about it, even though I was delighted that he knew my timetable. Thinking about Cambridge was starting to make me feel physically sick. "Do you have lessons in the LU all the time?"
He shrugged. "Yep." I couldn't tell if he was embarrassed or not.
"Why?" I knew he'd flippantly said before that it was because he was dumb, but there must be more to it.
"Like I said before, I'm thick."
"I don't believe anyone is thick. It's just whether they want to work or not." I sounded prim even to my own ears.
"Yeah, alright, that wouldn't help either then. I kinda missed some school in the last few years." He flicked those eyes back to me. "Actually, Jess, I kinda missed most of school for the last four years."
"Why? Were you ill?"
He rubbed his head. "Nope. Not ill. Just a bit, well, out of control I think they called it. I got in a lot of trouble. I hung out with the wrong crowd." He paused and looked at me, as if working out whether to trust me or not. "To be honest, I was the wrong crowd. I was the one that other kids were warned to stay away from."
I didn't know what to say. It was clear he had the kind of presence that commanded respect, maybe even fear. To be fair he had been pretty scary that first day on the bus, but I just didn't see him like that. I didn't think he was scary and I couldn't believe that he was stupid. I wanted to tell him that, but I didn't know how to say it without it sounding insulting.
"Plus, I had a lot of stuff going on, at home, you know?" He looked up at the sky and swallowed. I tried not to stare at his throat.
"So," he was looking at me again. "that's me. Come on then why do you go to the LU?"
The nausea hit me hard. I couldn't tell him about the exam and the interview. I felt like I was about to puke up. So I did a stupid thing. I grabbed my stuff, garbled out that I had to go and left.
I went home and studied as usual, trying to forget the glimpse I had got of the expression on his face at the moment I'd left him. It was 6.30pm when the doorbell rang. Dad wasn't home yet, Mum was on the final stage of cooking an elaborate dinner for no particular reason, and so it was me who answered it. And there was Jonah. He looked angry. I stepped back as he stepped forward, towering over me. "What do you want?" I realised then that actually he made an impressively scary school hard-case.
He held his hand out. "You left your keys behind."
He dropped them in my hand. I stared at them stupidly. I hadn't even noticed they were gone. Mum had let me in when I'd got home.
"Oh, right. Thanks." It was weird having him here standing on my doorstep. But what was weirder was the furious expression on his face. "How did you know where I lived?"
"Your dad's card. It's on that."
I think I nodded, but it was clear that Jonah wasn't in the mood for chatting.
"Um, are you upset about something?"
He folded his arms across his broad chest.  "Didn't you think I would be? Why did you run off so fast at lunch today?"
I felt myself start to sweat as the interview dread seeped in again. I shook my head.
"Yeah, well, I think I can guess." He said. "You just realised that you've been wasting your time hanging out with some nutcase who is so thick he has to be in the LU all the time."
"No! That's not what I thought." I stepped forward then before I realised it I'd reached out my hand and touched his arm. He stared at my hand against his skin and I pulled it back, feeling suddenly stupid.
"What's going on then? Why don't you just admit I'm right?" I didn't know if he was slightly less angry or whether that was just my imagination.
"You've got it completely wrong..."
My Mum interrupted. "Who's at the door Jess?"
Jonah was still staring at me. "It's Jonah, Mrs Mulligan. Jess's training partner."
"He was just leaving," I called out. But of course my delighted mother appeared at my shoulder. She wiped a flour-covered hand on her jeans before holding it out to him.
"Jonah! I've heard all about you! It is so wonderful to meet you, come in, come in."
With one more glance at me, and a flick of his personality switch, the cheerful and charming Jonah pushed past and followed Mum into the kitchen. I knew he was deliberately trying to wind me up as pay back for earlier. "Have you eaten? You must stay for dinner."
I groaned as Jonah happily agreed to join us. How could I have wasted so much time thinking about him? He clearly hated me and was only here to torment me. I just hoped we could get dinner over with before Dad got home.