Awoken - chapter one

Chapter four

Four

As the days turned into weeks, I still hadn't found the courage to speak to Beau. Every day without fail he would sit next to me in photography class; the hovering silence between us was unbearable and severely hindering my ability to concentrate. It didn't take long for Beau to become the talk at our lunch table. Everyone had their own theory about him and it didn't surprise me that Jack just hated him.

'There's something not right about him' Jack insisted.

'I think he's dreamy' Amelia said to no one in particular. Every girl at the table nodded in agreement and sighed as their thoughts wandered. 'Hey and there he is!' Amelia said, arm outstretched pointing out towards the gardens.

So there we were, a table of weirdos staring intently at Beau. He was dressed casually in army style black lace-up boots with military green cargo pants tucked into them. His chest, which I noticed was clearly toned, was masked by a crisp, white, long-sleeved top with the cuffs pushed up to his elbows, showing various leather and beaded bracelets on one arm. His other arm had a worn, black skull-patterned headscarf wrapped tightly around it and tied in a knot. He strolled with an air of coolness surrounding him. All the girls, including me, swooned and sighed, while a wash of unmistakeable jealousy rushed around the boys at the table; they watched on, critically analysing and trying desperately to find an obvious fault with him.

I stared at him intently, shamelessly wishing those arms were draped around my waist. Amelia and I made our way to the food station through the hordes of students and gazed over the undesirable dinner options that lay like dead animals in metal troughs, bathed in icky brown muck.

'Chips?' we said decidedly in sync.

'See something you like girls?' Landon Earl Bogstean was the biggest creep in our college and as we scooped the chips onto our plates, the trough of brown muck at the other end of the canteen stand suddenly looked appealing. Poisoning ourselves would be like a holiday in Barbados in comparison to a conversation with Landon Bogstean.

Landon flashed us a dirty yellow smile that made my toes curl. What we all saw when we looked at Landon was definitely not the image that he was faced with when he looked in a mirror. His greasy, dirty, blonde hair fell onto his face and as he used his grubby, stick like index finger to brush it out of his face, his moss green bug eyes worked over our bodies, causing an explosion of disgust to penetrate my stomach. Landon was one of those people who had always been filthy in both appearance and personality. Not even a chemical peel, a number one head shave and a yearlong turpentine infused bath would help him. He was every girl's nightmare and every psychiatrist's wet dream. As Landon licked his lips suggestively, my breakfast of warm Weetabix and banana threatened to reappear in a grey gooey mess on the floor. I swallowed the bulging lump in my throat and quickly made my way back to the table as fast as my legs could carry me.

I glanced lazily around the canteen and stopped as my eyes reached the far end; I saw Beau on his own, reading a book. I sat gazing at him, enjoying the view and drifting into my own world of dreamy thoughts, until it was interrupted by Lucy Appleby strolling up to Beau's table, coughing whimsically and fiddling with her immaculate, blonde curls to catch his attention.

Lucy Appleby was one of the most stunning girls in our college, which I would happily compliment her about if it wasn't for the fact that beneath her cool and confident exterior lurked the heart of Hitler. I'm not going to sugar coat it; Lucy was a grade A BITCH! On more than one occasion, Lucy had made mine and quite a few other people's lives pure hell. I was too far away to hear their conversation but the little script I had going on in my head wasn't helpful or settling.