The New Kid

Chapter 14

Reagan and my parents were out for the evening at his school art night. I told my family the truth when I said I had too much homework to go - though the art theme intrigued me. I promised Reagan he could tell me all about it when they got home to make up for it.

 Having the house to myself was usually my favorite - I'd crank up some music or just enjoy being alone for awhile. But this evening my head was spinning with thoughts. I thought about why I was the way I was. I could be the tough girl, the misfit, but I really didn't want to have to be. I remember during elementary school I had a lot of friends, I never felt alone then.  I really enjoyed having friends again, and I wanted to fit in this time, in a chummy Tomboy sort-of-way. Clara was pushing all the right buttons to bring out the worst in me, and I decided I didn't need the drama. I just wanted to not hate school, to be okay with the move, to not be alone. To have the closest thing to normalcy. 

I ended up texting Christian and asking him if he wanted to come over and work on English together and talk. I needed a sounding-board. He was free and came over just twenty minutes later. To honor my dad's code of having no boys in my room while the family was gone, we stayed in the kitchen and sat around the island. I made us a couple of hot cocoas while we worked. Christian took a sip and his eyes lit up. "Wow, this is the best hot cocoa I've ever had. What's in this?" I gave him a knowing nod, readjusting my messy bun, "Thanks! But good baristas never tell their secrets." He smiled and chuckled, "Okay, fair point. I'm so happy you got that job by the way. Nice work!" 

I replied, "Thanks for the encouragement that day, I really needed it. Having that job . . . it's been good for me." He tucked his pencil behind his ear and rested his chin on his hand. "Yeah?" He bit his lip. "Tell me about it." 

My heart fluttered as he leaned in to hear what I had to say. I composed myself and tried to offer a coherent answer. Smiling, I said, "First off, coffee is the best." He grins at this, "True that." I continue, "Working with my assistant manager Cody and the other barista Meghan and getting acquainted with the customers, it's drawing me out of my shell. I've been so kept to myself since the last move, just overly worried of what other people think of me. I feel like I fit in for once." I can tell Christian is listening intently. He asks, "Did you want to fit in at your last town?" 

I became uneasy at his question, a little hurt, remembering the times I felt overlooked, left out. I often sat alone in the caf or would find a quiet place to sketch so I could avoid everybody. But I was so drawn back - I didn't even try to make friends then. Even today, Christian had been the one to start up a conversation with me, or who knows, I'd still be friendless. I was thankful.

 "You know, I can't say I was trying to fit in. Like , in my heart of hearts I wanted to, but I didn't show it. I was closed off to the new school, sports, youth group, neighborhood, everything. The coffee shop I used to work at, it was my safe haven. That, and talking to my mom. She was worried about me." Christian raised an eyebrow, "Wow, sounds like that place was special to you, and that you're close to your mom." I smile, thinking back to the aroma of the coffee beans, the phonograph playing the oldies music, and my favorite customers walking in and chit-chatting for a moment. "Yeah," I say.

I reach out and give his forearm a little squeeze, "But you know, I'm glad I'm here. I'm glad I met you." His eyes sparkled at me a moment and I held his gaze. I felt . . . seen. Moments later, he cleared his throat and shifted in his seat, "Ha, you know, these papers aren't going to write themselves." I nodded, feeling slightly embarrassed for invading his personal space. Did he like it? 

He untucked his pencil from behind his ear and ran his fingers through his messy, dirty-blonde hair. I asked, "So, why did you talk to me that first day of school? Did you think I was cute?" I tease openly, hoping to get some information out of him.

He leans back in his seat, and scrunches up his face, "What? Why are you asking me?" He's laughing though, making my awkward question light-hearted instead. He smiles, "I wanted you to feel welcome." I look at him playfully, "Uh-huh, that's good. I did feel welcome." He chuckles but doesn't say anything further. I leave him be so we can get back to working on our English papers. But my heart won't stop fluttering.

Our papers so far this school-year seemed never-ending. I think this was our sixth paper so far and it was only the third week of school. I should have been done on the topic of 'environmental issues' by now, but I had the biggest distraction by my side. I felt a spark with him and hoped he felt the same. His eyes were telling, but he hadn't looked at me for awhile. I must have read my introduction a hundred times by now. I couldn't help but think I wanted to kiss him. I hadn't kissed anybody before. 

As I thought more about him and what it would be like to be a couple, I couldn't help but have thoughts of Clara intrude. I grew more and more uncomfortable thinking about the last couple of days and knowing she had something to do with my injury, knowing she was willing to kidnap me behind the school bleachers and threaten me, knowing she wanted Christian back. 

I looked up at him finally, with what was really on my mind. "Christian, can you tell me what's up with you and Clara? There's something going on behind-the-scenes that I don't know about." He put down his pencil for a moment and rubbed his temples like my dad sometimes did. "If you really want to know," he said distastefully. "Please," I confirmed. "I guess it's only fair to you since we've been hanging out," he added. He paused to think about how to word it all. 

"So, Clara and I dated way back in junior high, eighth grade, most of the year. That was two years ago, but it seems like an eternity to me. I've changed a lot, she hasn't, and we honestly haven't dated since. I haven't even thought about dating her since. She wasn't who I thought she was. She cares about all the stuff I don't."

I felt a little more at ease with his explanation, "So you don't have any lingering feelings for her?" I press. He shakes his head no, "It's a one-sided issue, I can tell you that right now." He sighs heavily. I carefully crafted my next question, not wanting to end the conversation just yet, "So...why the sudden interest of me on her part?" Again, he hesitated before delivering his answer. 

"Avalon, you're drop-dead gorgeous. If Clara still wants us to get back together, of course she's jealous we're spending time together." 

I hesitate to say the words but say them anyway, "But we're just friends." 

Christian doesn't flinch thankfully, "Clara doesn't get that. She's too jealous. That's one of the main reasons we broke up. She wanted to control who I talked to, who my friends were, it was so unhealthy." 

I sat intent on his last words so Christian continued, "Plus, Clara...she's going through a rough time. She has been ever since her mom and dad got divorced. I'm not the only one she's obsessed over, she has like three other exes. She's acting too...desperate." 

I nodded slowly, trying to understand her past a little better. "Still," I said, "She doesn't have to try and break my neck!" Christian nodded and looked down, "You could have been really hurt, I know. You have a valid point. What do you think about reporting her to the principal's office? Do your parents know what happened? You've gotta tell someone in authority about this."

"No, not before I get her back good," I replied.

Christian sighed at me this time. "Avalon, how many times do I have to tell you, it's a vicious cycle!" He sounded exasperated. "I have to tell the guys this all the time, too. Revenge...it's not worth it...you're not solving anything!" I thought about what he said. 

"But what if it makes me feel better?" I questioned, smiling at the thought of Clara being thrown into a pool with all her nice clothes on, or having slime poured on her head and then a bucket of loose feathers. "It'd serve her right," I stated. Christian closed his eyes and put his head in his hands and shook his head no. "You just don't get it Avalon. That's not going to help anything get solved. Revenge is not the answer."

I raised my eyebrow at this anti-revenge boy and finally asked, "Well, then what do you suggest?"