too young for this

chapter 2 | consequences

I take a bite of strawberry, savouring the taste of it on my tongue. Char grabs a paper out of her pocket, flattening the crinkles out on the table.

"So this is what I thought of for my dress."

There's a doodle of a dress with the patterns of constellations embroidered on it, little beads representing stars scattered and sewn on it.

I raise my eyebrows, "I love it."

"If you wear that to prom, you'll be the star of the show." Toni says beside me, with a grin.

"I know!" Char nods excitedly.

Marianne laughs, "And you were doing this instead of Biology?"

"That's when the best ideas come, Mari." She says with a giggle, folding the paper again. "But I don't think my mom will like it."

"Why not?" I ask.

"You know her." Char mumbles, "Plus, she already got me a dress."

Sometimes I forget her mom has issues with her. She's so good at hiding it when I come over.

Toni rolls her eyes, "Really? What if you grow out of it by then?"

"Oh believe me, I hope I will. It's so plain."

I stare at my fruit bowl, wishing I could at least have a mom to buy me a dress. I bite the inside of my cheek to distract myself from such thoughts.

The bell rings, and as I gather my things, we each head our own ways, to our lockers and next classes.
I run to my class, close to being late. I have a pen pressed between my lips, which I borrowed from Toni, since I'd lost mine.

When I make it, there is a group of kids pressed up together at the desk beside mine. I peer up at them curiously.
They're talking excitedly to one another, and when I walk over, slumping into my seat, their conversation dulls.

Mrs. Cynth, the teacher, tells us to quiet down and the throng disperses to their seats. I see a boy I don't recognize in the clear.

He has dark chocolate hair that's cropped short and curls at the top. The corners of his mouth are tilted upwards teasingly; as if daring us.

I put my pen down, looking away with an exasperated huff.
Mrs. Cynth calls what I assume to be his name, "Jamie, come to the front."

He sighs, standing from his seat. I watch as he makes an awkward attempt not to trip over anyone's desk or chairs.

Immediately, I shame myself when I find a smile on my face, turning away.

In front of the class, she introduces him, "This is Jamie Lozier," Jamie looks as though he's prepared to begin digging a grave for himself. She continues, "he's new here."

She looks at him expectantly but his eyes are trained on me. I peer up at him parting my lips as a nervous breath slips into my lungs. His lips are pressed tightly in a frown.

I glare at him, instinctively.

Why is he looking at me like that? As if I were a piece of art he's chosen to pick apart, cutting away at every detail. 

An unusual emotion creeps over my spine in a shiver.
I turn my head down, pursing my lips. My eyes flicker back up at him, against my liking.

He looks down at his shoes, a soft smile playing at his lips.

I roll my eyes, and this time train them at the teacher.

She tells him to go back to his seat, obviously frustrated. He walks back, eager to get out of the spotlight, though there's absolutely no way of escaping it now.

I turn to him, giving him my hardest look.

He widens his eyes at me innocently, like a deer caught in headlights, "My dad always gives me that look."

"What?" I ask, masking my shock.

"Disappointment."

A hiccup of a laugh escaping my mouth. "I really shouldn't have laughed." I shake my head in disbelief.

"I made the joke for a reason." He shrugs, a crooked smile on his mouth.

I tilt my head at him, curiously. But when I hear Mrs. Cynth begin today's lesson, I turn back around.

The rest of class, we write stories about science fiction prompts she gives us. I happily write them, scribbling on my page all of my ideas. Every time I glance back at Jamie, I see he's sketching some drawing in what I assume to be his sketchbook.
For a few seconds, I watch him, curiously. He frowns in concentration, tilting back to admire his own work.

I stretch nonchalantly, attempting to get a better view. His focused eyes slip onto me with my movement. I look away, training my view back on my paper.

I hear his voice beside me, "If you want to see, just ask."

"I suppose I could've, but it's more fun my way." I say, smiling mockingly.

He sighs, turning his body away from me, so that I could get a better view over his shoulder.
Without looking back, he says, "Is this good?"

I shake my head, though he can't see me, "Not good enough. Maybe you could tilt more to the right?"

"Alright." He turns and it's on full display.

On his paper is the drawing of a face, not any in particular, I think. Their eyes are rolled, in the way one might if they were annoyed. With their lips pursed and nose crinkled.

I smile, admitting, "Not bad."

"Thanks—I didn't actually get your name." He turns back, closing the notebook.

"Camilla."

"Thanks," he says after a pause, "Camilla."

I scan his face, yet I can't read him. His emotions are masked really well under his steady smile. As I watch him, I hear a voice at the front; our teacher's voice.

"Cami, Jamie. Anything you guys want to share with the class?" She watches us with a silly smile that I'd sell my soul to wipe off her face right now.

I clench my jaw, biting back mean words. Beside me, Jamie does the same, but with a smile.

His eyes meet mine and I choke out a laugh, surprised at myself. When the teacher keeps looking at me, disapprovingly, I scoff, "What?"

"I'm actually wondering what you have to say, Miss Vittini." She says, tapping her foot as if to convey impatience.

"Really?" I'm shocked at the way I'm speaking, but deep down, I love talking to her like this.

"Mhm."

"It was a joke, I don't really think you'd get it though." I say.

She purses her lips, "Oh really?"

"Yes," I shrug, "That's too bad though, it was really funny."

The teacher turns away from us, exhaling deeply. "That's detention. For both of you."

Jamie smiles crookedly, raising both brows as I press my lips together in a frown.
It looks like my fun is over. I ought to have expected that I'd be punished.

I look back at Jamie, who's dimples show. I can't help but return with a grin, shaking my head.

Detention sounds very fun.