Blake and Aimee

Chapter 19: Aimee

Well that was so humiliating. I literally want to dig a hole and go die in it. Blake is going to think I'm some hormonal sex-freak who fantasises over old men which is completely untrue. God, I hate my friends sometimes. Just sometimes. There was an awkward silence for majority of the drive to Blakes house. Normally I start the conversation and then he joins in, but as I hadn't started talking the silence just kept lingering. Blake turns to me, I can tell he is about to say something- probably about how sick in the head I am or something.

"You know it- "

"No really it's not what you think," God I feel so embarrassed, "I'm not some perverted sex-freak or anything I promise. God, I hate my friends they take so many things out of context."

"Aimee, I didn't- "

"It's more an appreciation thing really, they are all amazing actors they are so talented and then I watch interviews on them and they seem like such nice people, so humble and generous despite their popularity. Then I guess that evolves into an attraction of sorts." I quickly turn to him, "But not a weird attraction- not anything sick or paedophilic or anything I- "

"Aimee!" He abruptly cuts in, and quickly I fall quiet. "I never said anything about you're sick or a sex-freak or whatever. So why are you justifying yourself when you don't need to?"

"I just- thought,"

"My Ma crushes on George Clooney so really you are fine." I laugh, my Mum has a thing for George Clooney as well- not really sure why. "And besides, have you seen they guys at our school? They are all a bunch of pathetic pig-headed imbeciles, no wonder you went to middle-aged British men with a least some element of class." I find myself settling down and laugh once again. That's the thing about Blake, something about his nature or whatnot that when he's talking to you, you feel a little less self-conscious. I bit my lip and quietly reply as we pull up to his driveway.

"I guess I just didn't want you to think I was a freak that's all." He laughs and edges closer to me, leaning over the seat.

"Aimee, there sure isn't anything freaky about you I promise."

...

"Looking forward to History tonight?" He cringes in his seat, we are currently at lunch- just finished biology.

"Aimee..." he whinges.

"Blake..." I whinge back.

"You need to study, you have an exam coming up and its detrimental that you are prepared for it. Don't forget we have a two-part chemistry exam, English speech draft due, and a biology presentation coming up."

"Uh, enough," He pushes my shoulder slightly, making we sway to the left. I come back and slam into is shoulder. "Anyway, what was the English again?" I sigh.

"Oh Blake, the poetry essay remembers? Analysing the importance of a poem from the ones we were given in class. What one did you choose?"

"Ah it was the um, the one..." He squints his eyes closed, thinking, "Keats! It was that one by John Keats."

"Of course, right, we choose the same one I forgot, "Ode to a Nightingale" by John Keats." I pull out my school diary and begin to write a list. Blake peers over.

"What are you doing?"

"Writing a list of everything we have to study tonight." Blake groans and proceeds to lay on the grass.

...

"Right students file in, thank you and take your seats." Mr Henderson grabs a whiteboard marker and begins scrawling something on the board. Our assessment pieces. Blood fantastic. Another bloody subject to worry about. "Right students as you can see, you have another assessment piece, please leave your complaints and unintelligible groans at the door. For this piece you will spilt into pairs and compose a duet." Aimee looks over at me, as if I'd be willing to go with literally anyone else. "Together you will compose a performance to a song. God this will be very interesting indeed... no doubt I will be coming back with hearing aids next term. Anyway, split into your pairs and begin choosing your song." I swivel my chair to face Aimee.

"Well then, you have the greatest diversity of music in your iPod you what do you suggest?" She smiles and bits her lip. She has a habit of doing that I've noticed, I think I somehow like it.

"Well... I was thinking, and please don't judge me! But I was thinking 'Wonderwall'."

"Yes, by Oasis I love that song! Yeah, I could play that on guitar definitely, probably best acoustic. What made you go for that song?" She shyly starts at the desk, then the window, then back to me.

"I don't know, just a feeling I guess. Oh, and it doesn't have any extreme high or low parts which is good cause I can barely sing as it is."

"Sounds good." She laughs.

"Well let's hope it sounds good, our grade depends upon it."