Week two. Tuesday.
I can't say I didn't imagine my blatantly characteristic (Pre-Trauma, of course) stare-down with Remy yesterday would have any implications. If I had said it, I'd've been a liar. I involved myself in something I shouldn't have, in particular something that involved Remy, poor-little-rich-girl extraordinaire and Jasper, King of Claiming What Isn't His. You didn't have to be an observational genius to see they made ripples.
I used to make ripples. I knew how to carry myself in a way that demanded respect; I knew how to get my opinion across. I knew how to stand up for myself. Most of the time I didn't have to; people didn't cross me anyways. Maybe they feared me. I don't know. Whatever it was, I used to think it was a good thing.
Not now, though. When I reach the upper deck, Remy is sitting in my seat, and I know she's waiting for me. The corners of her mouths are pulled outwards and upwards, a hint of teeth showing. She looked the way Jade did before she was about to throw a punch. She was far more inclined than me to get physical.
"Claire!" she cries, and the way she unnecessarily waves me over disgusts me. It's all for show; I can't figure out why, who she has to impress. I go over there anyway.
"Remy," I greet her. My voice is perfectly neutral, which isn't hard to attain when I care so little for her.
"Hey, how are you? How are you settling in?"
"Great," I assure her. "I'm doing great." I don't bother with pretences. Whatever reason she has for approaching me, I'm not too interested. This isn't a conversation I can avoid, though. I have to be part of her game. That's what she wants, so that's what she'll get.
A moment of silence. If Dad had raised me here in England, I might've asked about the weather, or school, or something equally as mundane. I don't.
"Look, I'll get to the point," Remy eventually says, as if she's been veiling her intentions up until now. "I'm just here to warn you about Jasper. He's a charmer, trust me, I would know. And I can see he's interested in you. It's just that –" she leans towards me conspiringly, lowers her voice a little. "He doesn't have the best track record with girls. Like, my friend, Daisy –" she points towards the front of the bus. "She used to go out with him, she was head over heels, and he kept banging on about how much he loves her, but as soon as he shagged her, he threw her away like she was disposable. He has no respect for girls in general." She must take my silence as shock, or a signal for her to go on; she may take it as nothing at all. "The thing is, I know you've had a hard time, I mean, obviously St Agnes must be some huge cultural shock. I get it, trust me," she assures. I'm assured she doesn't. "and I'm happy to help you out. I know we kind of got off on the wrong foot last week, it must be hard moving to another country like that. Jasper – he's just… well, I wouldn't get involved with him, if I were you."
She says some more things, but I don't listen. Something rises from my stomach, up my chest. And then suddenly it's out, and the sound of it surprises me, because I haven't laughed in a long time, and I haven't laughed like this in even longer. Remy stares at me suspiciously but keeps talking until suddenly she snaps. "What's funny?"
What's funny? I want to tell her. What's funny?
"For one, it's funny because I thought you were going to take a swing at me. You had that look on your face, the one people get just before they take a swing at someone. It's funny because this is you taking a swing, it's your manipulative passive-aggressive pathetic underhand dirty cowardly way of taking a swing. Except it's not at me, it's at Jasper and that's funny because you're using me as a fist. It's funny because you think I can be a fist when I don't give a damn about any of you. It's funny because you think Jasper gives a damn, and it's funny because you give a damn and you're threatened, so damn threatened. And it's funny because you think you can make ripples. Who gives a shit about ripples? They're there and then they're gone and no one cares about them anymore, so it's funny that even if you do make ripples, that'll be the most significant you'd ever be. It's funny because of how significantly insignificant you are, and how significantly insignificant you'll stay."
I don't say this, though, because I'm not out to make ripples. I'm neutral. I'm balanced. I'm cold, and that's fine. So instead I calm myself down and say, "Nothing - I'll keep that in mind."
Does it satisfy her? It seems so. She gets up, gives me a smile that's a bit looser now, that touches the eyes. A victory smile. "Great. So I'll see you around?"
I shrug noncommittally.
"Great. I'm really glad we talked about this, it's just – I don't want another girl to get hurt, you know? Okay. Well, I'll see you later."
She walks off just as Jasper appears at the top of the stairs. He passes her in the aisle in silence – not a word, not a smile, not even a look. Then, when he reaches my seat, he goes, "You alright?"
"Great. I'm doing great."
"Lovely," he smiles at me, a toothy wide grin.
Remy's smile was easy to read. Jasper's – try as I might – is undecipherable.
a/n hey, guys. Bit of an eventful chapter. I feel like this is kind of shit, but I enjoyed writing it, to be honest.
Thank you all so so so so SO much for the amazing feedback I've been getting. You guys have no idea how incredible it is to get a new vote or comment or follower and I've been on a serious high for the past week because of this. Reader, if you're reading this: te quiero, je t'aime, i love you.
tamar
(p.s. song on the side - youth by daughter because it's fucking gorgeous, wowzers.)
