Where We Stand

4 | Lost in You

Chapter 4

I made my way along the school corridor, passing through a crowd of noisy students. Opening my locker, I dropped my Biology textbook onto the first shelf where a pile of books rose in a toppling mound, scowling when I remembered I was supposed to return the textbook to the library the day before yesterday.

January had marched on so fast, days and weeks gone by like a trail of smoke vanishing up the sky. February had come in wrapped in a package of chilly wind and swirly mist. Despite the cold, there was beauty in autumn—in the dry trees painted red and brown, in the splotches of orange dotting the cobbled sidewalks and in the fresh rain that cleansed the earth.

Last autumn, Naomi and I had gone to the park across Hawkings Street, warm coffee cups in our curled hands, shoes scrunching under fallen leaves. We’d sat on the wooden bench, gossiping about boys and school rumors, fashion and movies. I’d watched the grey clouds part aside, allowing the elusive sun to shed its rays on the leaves. Everything had turned golden like the trees had trapped sunlight in their tangled branches, and I had been overwhelmed by this sudden urge to grab a sheet of paper, enclose my fingers around a pencil and sketch the scenery.

“What’s that?” Naomi peeked over my shoulder.

I had thrown a crumpled ball into my locker. She caught it in mid-air. Naomi had dyed her curly hair blue and she looked great. She had an eclectic taste in fashion, often dressing up in clashing colors and making it look good.

I groaned. “It’s nothing.” 

She unfolded it, one eyebrow shooting up towards her fringe as she spotted the big C- slapped on the top right corner in bright red ink.

“I told you to sit with Thomas Rhineston.” She tipped her head to the side, her pink earrings jingling.

We’d been given a class assignment and my lazy lab partner had failed to show up on the presentation day. I know I was part to blame. Biology wasn’t my strong forte. Thomas would have been a better partner. He was the best in class. He was also a pervert.

I tore the paper from Naomi’s grip. “And have him grope me?”   

“Want me to beat him up?” Aiden stood between us, left fist thumping into the inside of his right palm.

“No, caveman.” I waved my hand dismissively.  “It’s fine.”

Aiden grunted, face drawn into a scowl. Naomi passed her gaze between him and me and then bent down to retrieve a pouch from her own locker.

Someone slapped Aiden on the back, hard enough that he lurched forward.

“’Sup Rowe.”

“Jackass.” Aiden straightened up.

Carlos joined our little group, smirking at him. He was one of Aiden’s close friends and the lead singer of Blue Ravens, a local rock band. He flashed me a grin then blew a kiss at Naomi. She gave him a nasty glare and flicked her blue curls over her shoulder before turning back to her locker.

I snickered.

“I heard you screwed up in The Pit,” Carlos said to Aiden.

Aiden sighed. “Yeah, Coach wanted to wring my neck.”

The Pit was the pool gym, a nickname given by the swimming team because of their harsh—and merciless—coach. Whenever he was in a bad mood, his skin would turn red, bushy moustache bristling, beady eyes narrowed. I’d often pictured him as one angry radish but I could see why the team named him The Devil.

Aiden and Carlos wandered off, muttering about the upcoming swimming competition scheduled for March. Aiden was one of the best swimmers in the team so their coach was harder on him.