Candour

I

First Encounters

Harry had always caught Ivory's eye from the beginning, not in a lustful way of course, nor was she physically attracted to him. Yes, the boy did have a few dashing features, but it wasn't those that interested her.

They had attended the same school for over three years, but neither had taken the initiative to actually get to know all their peers, which included each other. Their attitudes, personalities and morals clashed, which should've meant they absolutely despised each other, but instead, made a horribly terrific duo.

It was the week after the schools annual fete, and they were announcing the highest fundraiser from each year. Ivory, nor were any of her friends, expecting to claim the £20 iTunes gift card. Raising money, or effort really, wasn't part of her school spectrum. She was intelligent, but she didn't try. But when the curly headed boy from her grade stood up to claim his prize (he had raised £500) it made Ivory curious. She nudged her friend beside her and whispered, "I didn't know he was in our year."

It turned out his name was Harry, he was 16 and had a dog named Busted. All relevant facts but one. Ivory made a pact to get the know the socially anxious teen and to do it soon.

Harry's fundraiser money made a great topic of conversation for Ivory to make with him. They were waiting outside the classroom, books in hand, awaiting the arrival of the teacher. Ivory eyed off Harry waiting with his class outside the room next door. She made her way over, her friends lighting up and bubbling with topics and speech toward Ivory, which she only ignored.

Harry was by himself, leaning over the railing and gazing off into the empty playground. "You raised quite a bit of money for the fete." Ivory stated and Harry jumps, obviously startled.

"Yeah I did. Rich grandparents help I guess." he stated blankly, not making eye contact.

Ivory laughed at the comment, although it wasn't all that funny. Harry only stared at her. Had she suddenly grown a second head? Was there something in her teeth? She had come to conclusion that, obviously, he didn't seem like the social type and Ivory pondered why she was even talking to this kid. Curiosity? Mostly. To be quite honest, nothing was really striking about Harry. He didn't stand out, nor was he popular. It was like a rope tugging Ivory toward Harry, with no real reason behind it.

"Do your grandparents live here in Holmes?" She asked, trying to get some personality, if any, out of the lifeless student still boring holes in her face. Faced with no reply, she clears her throat and asks a simple question about sport. Again, nothing.

"So, which class are you about to have?" Ivory struggled, why was it so hard to reply? Opening your mouth and using sound wasn't all that hard was it?

Attempting to cover her frustration and appear calm and casual, Ivory leaned against the railings of the balcony. Sweeping right foot over left, she felt something collide with the leather of her school shoes. Taking no notice of it she looked back at Harry who stood staring profoundly at Ivory, his eyes wide as China bowls and his jaw slack and hanging slightly ajar.

"Stop staring at me like I murdered your mother." Ivory rolled her eyes, pulling down the hems of her white school blouse.

"Well you did just kick my laptop off the balcony!" Harry exclaims, pointing to a clattered mess of silver littered on the cemented ground below. Of course Ivory's thoughts were: so he does speak! not: oh my god! I haven't spoken to this kid for over five minutes and I've somehow managed to kick his, probably really expensive, laptop off a balcony. Go wildcats! Which seemed more appropriate, considering the situation they were in.

To add to Ivory's stream of dodgy morals and lack of conscience, instead of apologising, which would've been the more civil approach, she attempted to lay the blame on Harry.

"Why the fuck was your laptop on the ground anyway? Now look at what happened! Don't blame me!" She held up both her hands as to say she was backing out. Taking a few steps backwards she bumped into a seemingly large figure who stood firmly behind her.

Wincing, she slowly turned on her heel and was faced with a tall teacher standing over her, a fixed bow tie resting in his collar and the strong stench of sweat and tobacco filled his presence. Mr. Stead. Whenever Ivory was absolutely glorified with the aura of Mr. Stead, it was never for congratulation or acknowledgment of success. She was always to receive lectures and detention notices. You could say that Mr. Stead was not overly popular with Ivory.

"Fuck me sideways," she mutters.

"Something to say?" Mr. Stead asked, eyebrows raised and lips lifted into a smirk.

"Not this time, no," she drummed her fingers on the railing, boredom already seeping through her.

He hums, "Surprising," and directs his attention to Harry. Using a calmer and much more politer tone, (which makes Ivory scoff) he asks, "Is that your laptop, Harry?"

"Does it look like I have my laptop here?" Harry deadpans, awaiting an answer from Mr. Stead, who looked stunned. How had Ivory not met Harry before? They could get on so well. If that was if Harry could get past his 'I don't want to socialise with anyone' façade and had actually made friends. Sure, Ivory was loud and daring and Harry had made out to be conservative and shy. But people aren't always what they seem, and Ivory knew that firsthand. Besides, making a new friend couldn't hurt, right?

"You two," Mr. Stead pointed at the pair, "coordinators, now." Ivory saluted him, packing away her books and trailing down the stairs, Harry following timidly.

They came to a stop outside the door of the year coordinator's office. "My second home," Ivory huffed, knocking on the door and then stepping back, waiting patiently for Ms. Katherine to answer. In her peripheral vision, Ivory could see Harry in a shambles, his palms were shaking and his foot was tapping vigorously against the carpeted floor.

"What's got you in a muck?" She asks, "I mean Ms. Katherine isn't that bad."

"I've met her before. I have attended this school for the same amount of time you have, longer actually." Harry says.

"Well, I didn't know you existed, or talked, until, like, five minutes ago."

"Cool." he nods his head, lips pressed together. Ivory could not fathom nor recollect any sort of memory with Harry. She racked her mind for any possible recognition, whether it be from him being in her classes or simply bumping into him. But, nothing.

"Are you absolutely sure you've been here longer than me?" Ivory asks, peering at Harry, still nervous and a bumbling mess.

"Yes. You're just too self involved to notice anyone else, beside all those level with you on the social ladder." Harry bites back.

"Thanks," she rolls her eyes. She wasn't self involved was she? Of course not! Right?

"It's fact. Don't be too surprised about it," Harry's comment actually hurts Ivory this time. Surely not everyone thought this way about her.

"Aren't you meant to be a jumbling, socially anxious freak or something? Where did all this sass come from. Dear lord." She shakes her head, although she was wishing Ms. Katherine would gladly hurry up.

Harry began fiddling with his hands. "I'm not socially anxious."

Ivory raises her eyebrows and nods. "Whatever you say."