Lean On Me

Chapter 5

I leaned against the porch railings, eyes sifting through the sea of faces strolling in through the main gate. People-watching was kinda fun. It was interesting to watch human behaviour; people group up, just to get separated again. I glanced at my phone as it vibrated.

I'll be there in 5! - Vi

Stuffing my phone into my hoodie pocket, I decided to stop being so creepy and stared up at the sky instead. There was a mix of cumulonimbus and strata clouds. As my brain was about to spiral into thoughts about atmospheric instability, my academic musings were interrupted by a jocular exclamation.

"Just Faye!"

My head snapped to the direction of the voice. Lo and behold, a waving Travis Taylor was approaching. He wore a baby blue beanie, a dark blue varsity jacket with a white t-shirt peaking from underneath, coupled with some grey sweatpants.

I hadn't realised I'd been staring until he stopped and stuck his hand out, Like it was some biological specimen, I studied his hand carefully. I grasped his hand and shook it, before pulling away.

But he kept the hand outstretched. Shooting him a quizzical look, I remained still. He rolled his eyes.

"remember the handshake I taught you?"

Ah. The day he tortured me during out fame of badminton. I remember. As much as I would have loved to see what would happen if I left him standing with his hand out so eagerly, I wasn't that mean. I'd only do that to James, or any equivalent asshole.

I reached out to give him the complicated handshake, and when I was about to pull my hand away, he tugged me closer and leaned down, lips only millimetres away from my ear.

His hot breath against my neck sent my heart beating a million times faster, and I felt seconds stretch like hours.

"Have a wonderful day, Just Faye."

Unable to form coherent thoughts, I blinked like an idiot. He still hadn't let go. Was he waiting for me to wish him a good day back?

"That rhymed," I commented lamely.

That seemed to satisfy him, and he straightened back up, giving me an ethereal smile. I watched as he backed away, still smiling, and disappeared through the school doors. I let out a breath I hadn't known I was holding. 

Do jocks always do that? Make you feel like you're the most special person in the world? A clique of girls, comparable to the Plastics from Mean Girls, walked past me at that exact moment. Each one of them threw me a dirty look. As they, too, disappeared from my sight, I scoffed to myself.

They thought I was competition? Please, the only man who would want me would be a man who would want to date a trashcan. But I repeated my little mantra: trashcan, not trash cannot.

"Faye!"

I whipped around to see Vienna emerge from behind a tree. She held up a brown paper bag once she reached me. I took it, peering suspiciously inside as she bent down to tie her shoelaces.

Chocolate croissants! This was why we're best friends.

"I saw these as I walked past Paris Baguette and it looked so good. The queue was so bloody long, sorry about that,' she explained.

"Thank you, Vivi!" I beamed. Chocolate croissants are our thing. When we were younger, we used to beg our parents to buy them.

"Why were you hiding behind that tree?" I interrogated.

"Yes! I was just about to talk about that!" she squealed. I gasped, eyes widening.

"No! You were making out with someone weren't you?" I joked, only to earn a glare.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Vienna asked accusingly, giving me a playful punch on the shoulder.

"I've always known you have a crush on Brent," I smiled knowingly.

"No! I'm talking about you and Travis!"

She must have seen our brief exchange.

"We are acquainted," I stated, digging a hand into the brownbag.

"He did The Handshake with you. That's not just acquainted."

"The Handshake?" I ridiculed, pulling out a croissant to take a big bite.

"Only jocks do it with each other. All of them. Football, Badminton, Swim alike," she sighed dreamily.

I rolled my eyes as I continued munching, letting her float around in her daydream. I bet Brent was there in her thoughts as she smiled so giddily. Brent is a ripped swimmer. That is enough explanation as to why half the school crushes on him.

"Oh, but I'd be careful if I were you," Vienna perked up all of a sudden, suddenly sober from her fantasy.

"Whazzhumin?" I asked, mouth full of soft bread and chocolatey goodness, but Vienna could understand my food-in-mouth gibberish. 10 years of being best friends give you skills like that.

"He's a player. Before you say, duh, I mean playboy. He uses girls like disposable underwear."

I almost choked on my croissant. Disposable underwear?

"Of all metaphors, you had to choose disposable underwear?" I complained.

"It's true," she affirmed, pressing on, "I just don't want to see you get hurt. They all think they're the one to change him, make him monogamous, but truth is, boys like him will always be like that. And I know how much you hate men who treat women like that."

She was right, a feeling of disgust was bubbling up in my stomach at the thought of him using girls like that. But I couldn't quite wrap my head around how I felt. It was a mix of emotions.

Disappointment. Even though it was only one time, hearing him open up about how people use him to facilitate their own social climbing goals, made me feel as though he was different. There was more to him than the stereotypical cocky, arrogant jerk people made him out to be. Someone craving for real love, not fake love.

yeee do y'all want some side character stories in this too? i could perhaps spice up vienna's life ;)

-H