BOYTOY

~ Chapter 12 ~

Days moved into weeks and weeks past by with the speed of a cool summer day. I hardly saw Amber anymore, and along with Amber, Emery was like a phantom. I spotted him at school sometimes despite my best efforts to not notice him, but I didn't let my eyes linger, lest he turn and spot me. It wasn't as though I was avoiding him, just, well...

Yes. I was avoiding him. That day in the elevator confused me. What was he going to do? Kiss me? Or was it nothing? Had I overreacted, had I just jumped to silly conclusions? But if I had, why had Emery called out for me, why had he asked me to wait and let him explain? If it was all a stupid mistake, why did it need explaining?

But through it all—breaking Amber's promise, the almost-kiss with Emery (or whatever it had been), ignoring Emery—I missed my sister. She left before I woke in the mornings and either came back early in the afternoons and shut herself in her room, or the more likely outcome was that she didn't come home until late. I stayed awake and listened to the growl of Emery's car as it prowled down the street, and then the low hum of the engine as it idled in the driveway. At those moments, I tried not to think about what Amber and Emery were doing in the car. I tried not to think of them together, whispering into each others' ears, and then kissing, embracing, trying to find a more comfortable position...

I tried not to think about it, but of course I failed. I don't even know why I thought about it, but I supposed it had something to do with my crush on Emery. It was still there, a niggling feeling in my mind, forcing me to take extra notice in the hallways, forcing me to find that black-beanie clad head. And as soon as I found it, and knew it belonged to Emery, my stomach jumped and wiggled, and as I turned away before he could see me, I cursed myself for being so bloody stupid.

"Hey, Bron." Someone poked me in the ribs, and I looked sideways to see Andrea hunched low in her seat. "What's the answer to number ten?"

I blinked and looked down at my page. It was blank, the questions bold black print across the paper, but the answer spaces empty with failure. "Oh, um." I moved my arm to hide my page as I quickly read the question. Luckily it was easy, and I hissed the answer back at Andrea. She gave me a thumbs-up as a thank you, turning back to her work. I sighed and forced myself to get started on my Biology quiz, but even though I filled in the page, it was with half-hearted concentration, and I knew that the teacher would not be pleased with my work.

In History we were handed an assignment sheet. The class erupted into groans and hushed swearing. My sheet was flat on my desk and I stared at it morosely as the teacher began speaking. "You will need to pick a subject that relates to this town's history," said Mrs. Peterson. "Either a person or a building or an event. This can't just be the usual historical report; it has to be something that involves conflict. There must be differing accounts of this person or event, or conflicting stories. The assignment states that you must explain both sides of the debate, while also giving a truthful account of the history. You are also required to pick a side in the debate and explain why you have done so, giving reasons and referencing your study material. It is due in six weeks, so you all should start researching now."

Great, I thought miserably, sighing as I looked out the window. Another thing to worry about.

But at least, I realised, it would keep me occupied. And it would be a reason to stay out of the house; being home just made the fact that Amber wasn't there almost painfully obvious.

"Come on, Wyn," said Kim, appearing at the corner of my desk. Her grin was almost blinding as she exclaimed happily: "Lunchtime!"

I resisted the urge to sigh as I stood and gathered my things. My friends didn't need to know how confused I was. They just needed to see the happy-go-lucky Bronwyn French that had been their friend for years. Even if it was tiring keeping all this conflict to myself, I didn't want to burden them with it. It was my problem, and I had to resolve it myself.