Your Mark on Me

Chapter 13: Bad day

Roy was clearly upset with me. So upset that, when I entered the classroom, not only he didn't acknowledge me, but he didn't even reply to my direct greeting.

After first period, I went up to him.

"Look, I'm really sorry about our date. Honestly, a lot happened over the weekend. I was in hospital on Saturday morning."

"Yeah", he answered, not looking me in the face. "You've been busy. I heard you hooked up with this Brad guy."

"Brian", I corrected, only to realise afterwards how self-incriminatory it sounded. "And I didn't hook up with him, where did you even hear that?"

"Everyone knows".

"What? But..."

He cut me off. "I didn't think you were like that."

Then, he turned his back to me, as if I wasn't worth any more of his time.

I found Chloe chatting in the hallway with some other girl that I didn't know, but didn't care to be introduced right then. I grabbed her arm, ignoring her complaints. Huffing and puffing, she followed me outside.

"Why does the whole school know that I hooked up with Brian? Do you know that he tried to rape me?"

"What?" She didn't sound as surprised as I would have expected. "That can't be. He's a nice guy, he's been George's best friend for years. Maybe he misunderstood you?"

I couldn't believe her reaction.

"You were there! You saw the state I was in."

She shrugged. "Everyone was drunk, I mean, things happen."

"Things happen, Chloe? THINGS FUCKING HAPPEN??"

That was it. I didn't care for how many years we'd known each other, that was definitely not what I was expecting to hear from my best friend.

"Where were you anyway?" she asked, pretending not to notice just how mad I was. "To be honest, I thought you were with Brian the whole weekend. He's been saying that you two are a thing now. Oh, by the way, I need my dress back. Bring it tomorrow?"

My mouth gaped open.

"Ask George for Brian's number", I said quietly.

By lunch break she had it texted to me.

I didn't think the day could become worse. But it did.

Clearly, Roy's hard feelings were stronger than I'd anticipated; he hadn't written my part for the assignment and I ended up being told off in front of the whole class by Miss Thornton, the world's oldest maiden, who, as we used to joke at school, compensated for her lack of a certain thing in her life by being particularly horrible to everyone.

Coupled with the rumours about Brian, that quickly made me the hottest topic of the classroom's daily gossip. It wasn't even that what I'd supposedly done was so interesting, or that they'd never done it before, it was just that I was Miss-Perfect-Score, the-nerd-of-the-class, the know-it-all, the one who never "hooked up" with anyone, the one who was never like them.

The hours crawled incredibly slowly. Having to put up with the unwanted attention, the whispers and the judgemental glances, while I wasn't even on good terms with Roy and Chloe, became unbearable. To be fair, it wasn't anything too brutal, but it was me - I felt anxious and uncomfortable even when no one minded me. By the time school ended, I was feeling emotionally drained.

But the day wasn't over yet. After school, I had my piano lesson with Mrs Jackson. Due to what happened at school, I wasn't able to focus at all on my playing and kept making the same mistakes, over and over again. When I stupidly asked her if she could think of any competitions that I could sign up for, Mrs Jackson snapped and said that judging by my current lack of interest in the piano, I had no chance in any respectable competition.

I left her house incredibly discouraged, feeling like the most miserable little person on the face of the earth.

And I certainly must have looked like one when I knocked on Mark's door. He didn't seem that surprised to see me again so soon.

"Are you back for the red dress? You left it in the bedroom. Oh, and I found your bracelet on the sink."

Great, I was an airhead. Anything else?

"Bad day?"

With a gesture, he invited me to come in. I nodded.

"Do you want to tell me about it?"

I didn't particularly want to, but there wasn't anyone else I could talk to and I figured that maybe letting it all out would make me feel better. In fact, I was already starting to feel better. There was just something in his voice and the way he smiled that I found soothing, as if when I was around him, the rest of the world could quiet down and I could imagine for a short while that it didn't even exist.

"Luckily for you, I cooked dinner for two days, so, if you haven't eaten already, you're welcome to join me and tell me what happened."

That day's dinner was more elaborate than the spaghetti of the previous evening. It was a tasty looking beef roast that had been boiled in some sort of wine, with some sort of sauce the name of which I can't remember, served with potato wedges and creamed spinach. It looked very tasty.

"So, are you going to tell me what happened?"

I reluctantly started. As I let out my frustrations, my account of the events became more and more lively. I couldn't help noticing how, for some reason, he seemed a little bit too interested in my story. When I started talking about how horrible Mrs Jackson had been to me, he somehow steered me back to the annoying people at school; why he was so interested in how Lauren spoke, the number one female bully in my class, or how she'd shoved me and called me a two-faced slut, when she'd slept with half of the guys in the whole school - that I could not understand.

Until, suddenly, it dawned on me.

Now that I had realised it, I could almost tell how he was taking mental notes as I spoke.

"Why are you so interested in my life?" I asked, trying to sound as casual as I could.

"You seemed upset, so I just figured you might want to talk."

"Really? Just that?"

"Of course. What else?"

"So this isn't about your book? It's not about Jeremy's daughter? You know, the one that looks like me and has 'slight daddy issues'?

His eyes widened in surprise, but he didn't respond. Even then I thought he was analyzing me, as if I were some creature displaying an interesting behavior.

"So tell me, will Jeremy's daughter get bullied at school in the next chapter, now that you've done some research?" My voice was becoming high-pitched and I knew I was way out of line, but I just couldn't stop the words from coming out. "You know, you don't have to pretend anymore that you give a shit about me."

I got up to leave, but somehow, during that movement, my arm, which was already gesticulating excessively, managed to swipe the plate in front of me over the edge of the table and send it flying on the floor, where it smashed with an unsettling sound.

I covered my mouth, staring with horror at the barely touched food lying on the floor, covered in shards.

"Oh God. I didn't mean to..."

He opened his mouth to say something, but I didn't wait for his reply. I dashed towards the door, heat flushing in my cheeks, my vision blurry with the tears threatening to come out.