A fresh start is exactly what London McLaren needs in order to forget the demons of her past. A new last name, a new town and a new school.
She's about to start her final year of high school, ready to obey her parent's orders to keep her head down a...
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Friday, February 7th, 2020
When you search the definition of avoidance into Google, you'll get something like this:
Keep away from or stop oneself from doing (something).
Ultimately, whoever envisioned that definition didn't go to Bakley High, population 203. It would be deemed impossible, no matter what I did, no matter how hard I tried, to avoid Kennedy and her persistent ways.
Being in a small school with only 35 other seniors meant that I had at least one person from the group in each of my classes.
This included Kennedy and Cooper in biology, Sydney in English, Asher in Health, Sydney again in psychology and maths with—
"Harry Colemen?"
He was late. Miss Valenti had called his name twice already.
"Harry?" she questions, peering up from the role, scanning the rows of students.
There was one seat spare, sitting right next to mine. I grip my desk tightly, knowing it would be easier for me if he just didn't turn up at all.
In the past four days that I had known Harry, I had only seen him twice. Once, when Kennedy introduced us and then again, only breifly the next day at lunch.
His friends didn't seem fazed by his flaky behaviour, leading me to guess that it wasn't abnormal for him to do this.
The classroom door swings open almost silently, but it still gains the attention of everyone in the room. Miss Valenti sighs, before pointing at the empty seat next to me.
Harry lumbers in, giving our teacher an apologetic half wave, before falling into his seat, his books hitting the desk with a heavy thunk.
He glances my way briefly and I pull my lips to the side in acknowledgement before turning back to my work.
Once Miss Valenti finishes and she writes down the questions we have to answer from our textbooks, Harry gives me a sidelong glance. I peer over at him, wondering if he was going to ask whatever was on his mind.
"I kind of left my textbook at home. You think we could share?"
Wordlessly, I push my desk closer to his so that my textbook could sit in the middle.
"Thanks," he says, tapping his fingers on the desk. After a beat Harry is still sitting there, doing nothing.
"Do you think I could also—"
"Borrow some paper? A pen to write with, perhaps?" I muse.
He gives me a small smile, shaking his head softly. His hair falls in front of his eyes and he pushes it back behind his ear.
"Rough morning?" I question.
He scoffs internally, nodding along. "Yeah. Something like that."
I hand him the paper and pen, his soft fingers lightly grazing mine.
"Thanks, Lon."
Lon. Like we've been best friends our whole lives. That's how easy he makes it seem. I wish it were true.
"So," he clears his throat, whispering to me. There was a quiet chattered murmur passing through the class but Harry still made sure his voice was quieter than anyone else.
"Why Bakley High? Why move schools in your final year?"
It was the most I'd ever heard him speak and I wish these weren't the questions he had for me.
"The date is November 12th, 2019. The interview begins at 3:09 pm with London Mclaren. Sister of the accused. Let's start."
"My mum. New job."
He nods in understanding. "What's she do for work?"
"She's a paralegal."
"She got off because of her, I bet. Her mother, the barrister's assistant and her daughter, facing no charges."
"Hey," Harry apprehends, "you alright?"
"Yeah," I whisper, shaking my head lightly.
Memories always snuck up on me now. I found it more difficult to concentrate on the present when I so desperately wished I could fix my past.
"Where were you on the morning of November 11th, Miss Mclaren?"
"At home. Then I had school."
"When did you leave the house?"
"Around 8:15? I can't...I don't know exactly."
"So was it 8:15 or you can't remember? Those are two very different answers."
"I think it—"
"You think or you know? Again, two different answers."
"Lonnie? Are you sure—"
I jump. My hands are shaking. This was the last thing I needed.
"Sorry," I say. Fake laugh. Deep breath. Eyes closed. "Daydreaming is a habit I'm trying to break."
Get it together, Lon. He'll know. He'll know if you start acting weird. Mask up, head down.
"I get distracted easily," I mumble.
He's watching me like he doesn't believe me. I wasn't sure that Harry was the type of person to dig when it was obvious I didn't want him to know something. Not when we'd just met, anyway.
"Me too," he nods. "That's why I hate classes like this. Sport, it's a better way to learn. Outdoors, anything is possible."
"My cousin, Liam, always used to have this saying. Better out than in. And I'd laugh, you know? Because he wasn't talking about what the saying really means. He was talking about the outdoors, how everything is so different compared to being inside, like living in two separate worlds," Harry smiles fondly, like he's reminiscing over something.
I understood that feeling. I understood it more than he would ever know.
"Can I have a break? I just...I need some air."
"Only a few more questions, London. Then you're free to leave."
I'd felt so suffocated for months living in Winterville, even still now. Whether or not people knew who I really was, everything that I knew was still there. I couldn't forget it, no matter how I hard I tried.
My life was like this; Winterville and Bakley. Two worlds, two different people and I couldn't be myself in either.
"I should probably stop blabbering about shit and do my work," Harry smiles.
"No," I whisper. "I get what you mean. Sometimes, though, you can be yourself on the inside and not on the outside. Like, for instance, when you're alone versus when you're with people."
He looks at me, eyebrows furrowed like he's really trying to understand my words.
Harry was so thoughtful, so interested in the world. It only made it harder to stay away from him.
"I've never thought of it like that," he says, slightly awestruck, like he's suddenly seeing the world in a different light.
I feel vulnerable all of a sudden, like I've crossed a line and he's really seeing me.
"Anyway," I clear my throat. "Um, how do you do this equation?"
The rest of the class passes by smoothly, but I make sure I'm more reserved. It clear that Harry picks up on it too, his eyes speak volumes.
