Let’s, no scratch that, Noah’s text comes in when I’m preparing for class. I change the name on my second phone from Let to Noah to avoid any confusion. Someone knocks on my door. I know it’s Mum. She doesn’t want me to be late on my first day of school but I don’t give enough fucks about anything right now to be worried about lateness.
“I’m coming,” I scream at the door. Plopping on the bed, I open the message from Noah.
Noah: Sometimes I don’t blame her for not believing me. I used to lie a lot, do stuff to hurt myself, then blame it on her. I just wanted us to go back home. So I guess when I told her, she assumed it was one of those lies. But it wasn’t. I wanted her to believe me. I really wanted my mother then.
Me: sorry
My response sounds so insensitive but the truth is, I don’t care. I haven’t cared about anything or anyone since we moved to New York. Mum is sharing a room with Daddy and I have this semi-suite to myself. It’s huge, enough space to wallow in my thoughts and self-misery.
Under normal circumstances, I would have made a video call to show Maria around my room but this isn’t normal. I haven’t called or returned any of her calls. I just want to wallow in my misery until we pack into our house.
Noah: it’s cool. We finally talked. It was okay.
Me: nice. I’m happy for you.
Noah: yeah. How are you?
Sad. Really, really sad. Everyone reminds me of him. Sometimes I’m sure the blue-eyed boy at the counter is him until I walk over to confirm. I haven’t come out of the hotel since the day I called someone else by his name.
Me: I’m fine. Super.
Noah: random question. If your boyfriend asked you to pick between him and your friend. Not exactly your best friend, who will you pick? Mind you, you’re not dating this friend and you’re madly in love with your boyfriend.
Me: boyfriend.
Noah: oh.
Me: yeah.
Noah: why? Remember your friend was there before your boyfriend and will always be there after you break up with your boyfriend. I am not saying you and your boyfriend will break up but you get what I am trying to say, yeah?
I kind of understand his question. If Ben had asked then, I would have picked him over Maria. Now, my answer might be different. I erase the message and type in a new reply.
Me: Yeah, but still my boyfriend. I have to go. Bye.
Someone knocks again. I roll my eyes and slide my bag up my shoulder. Mum has no need to rush me since I am heading to hell anyway. Another few months of trying to blend in or survive the rest of the school year. I won’t be taking anyone’s bullshit.
Mum’s head pops inside my room. “Slept well?”
No. “Yes.”
She chuckles and Daddy hugs me after. He drives us in his car since mine hasn’t arrived. They sit in the front seats, hands locked with stolen glances exchanged at intervals. It’s not cute. It’s annoying. They need to quit it. My poor heart can’t handle it.
We arrive in front of the school I’ll spend the rest of
the semester and next in. Students rush up the stairs leading to the door. Some are in pairs and others are alone. I reckon I’ll be among the loners pretty soon.
My parents grin at me when I open the door.
Yay. Welcome to hell. How exciting. “I love you,” I tell them. It’s the one thing that’s always constant.
“Love you too,” Daddy says. I dodge my face from his cheek pinches. “Have a great day!”
Mum waves. We spoke to the principal so I’m good. I think I am. I crumple the school’s flier in my hand and jog up the stairs. Taking another deep breath, I push the door open. The hallway quietens and all heads turn to me. I wait for the camera, the gossips, the snickers but there is none of that. At once, everyone starts speaking again and I am forgotten.
I release the breath I held in. This is not Broadway Heights. No one knows about me. They don’t know I have vitiligo. Even if they do, it’s not contagious. It’s a superpower. I take my first step inside. I will be just fine.
The visit to the principal is short and boring. He assigns a tall, cute boy to show me around. A boy I dislike instantly because he has blue eyes. Number one rule for New York: stay away from boys with blue eyes or they will shatter your heart.
“I think we are in the same class,” the boy says. I think not. “Let me see what it says.”
I tuck the timetable into my pocket. I don’t want to be in the same class with him. Leaning on the wall, he crosses his arms on his chest and laughs. Not funny. Will he still find it funny if my fist is in his face? I quicken my pace but he catches up.
Doesn’t he get it?
We stop in front of a class I hope is the right one. If it isn’t, I’ll rather walk back to the principal’s office than ask him for directions. Blue eyes stretches his hand to me in a handshake. I eye his arm without taking it but he keeps his hand out.
“Hi. I’m Calum,” he says.
Thankfully, the hallway is empty so there is no one to watch this stubborn boy embarrass himself. I muster a practised smile. “Hi. I don’t care.”
Calum finally drops his hand. “Ah. You’re funny.”
His hands clamp around the straps of his bag. I grow self-conscious when his eyes do another lazy sweep of my body. I am wearing long sleeves and jeans.
“Not as funny as I would be with my fist up your ass.”
Calum smirks, his eyes lighten with mischief. “Funny and violent. Nice combo.” He throws an arm around my shoulder and opens the door. “We will be great friends. Best friends even. I’m a bit of a violent comedian myself.”
He laughs at his own lame joke. This boy doesn’t get the memo. I don’t give a shit about him.
The teacher stops talking once we enter, everyone stops writing. Calum doesn’t let go of me, he sticks to my side when the teacher questions us, mostly me, the new student.
“She’s new,” he answers on my behalf again.
He’s always doing that. Acting like I can’t speak for myself. I allow him to continue because I don’t feel like speaking with or to anybody. I remember the teacher asking me to introduce myself but I don’t remember doing it.
“Alright, Tessa.” Her hair is a dirty blond and her voice is like Miss Jota’s. I hope she is like her or maybe half as kind as she is. “Welcome. I’m Muna.” Muna turns to the whole class to give a speech about treating me well. “Please, have a seat.”
Calum goes ahead of me to two empty seats in the middle row. He motions for me to take the seat beside him but I walk past him to the last row with two empty seats. I sit on the chair closest to the window. My seat in Broadway Heights was by the window. Calum shakes his head. Fuck him. He’s sorely mistaken if he thinks we will be friends. Maria is my best friend.
The class goes surprisingly well. Muna is an okay teacher but Miss Jota is still my favourite. Will she be mad if she finds out I never applied to SAS? It doesn’t matter now. I am done with San Francisco and its people.
Calum comes over to me when the class ends. He drags the empty seat close to mine like the warning smile on my lips isn’t reason enough to stay away.
“What’s your next class?” he asks. Using his finger to comb his hair, he arches his neck in an angle that gives the perfect view of his face. Calum is hot. Okay, that thought didn’t come from me. But yeah, he has the looks. “Tessa, what’s your next class?”
I arrange the book I never used into my bag and start for the door. Calum is on my heels like a lost puppy. My next class is calculus. He can’t possibly be in the same class with me. I repeat my new mantra. I don’t want to be friends with him.
Calum attempts to place his arm on my shoulder like he did earlier but the glare I shoot in his direction stops him. Hoping my memory can still serve from the clip I watched on their website, I take the turn by the left.
“Are you always this rude?”
I am not rude. But I don’t say that. He is the one who doesn’t understand the words: I don’t care. We stop in front of a class at the same time. Calum smirks when I groan. He opens the door for me and gives a curt bow.
“My lady,” he says and steps aside for me to enter. This boy is trouble, I can already feel it.
This class has only two empty seats and my new, unwanted friend locks his hand around my wrist before I can think of escaping. He takes the seat by the window and I take the one beside him. The other students barely spare me a glance. I like it. If it were BH, there would be an article about the new girl circulating on the site.
The teacher isn’t here yet so some students bring out their phones. I don’t bring out mine because the only thing I’ll see is missed calls and more missed calls and texts from Maria. She wants to visit. But I don’t want to see her.
“I’m curious.” I stifle a groan. Not again. This boy doesn’t quit. I will not be the nice, naive, gullible Tessa I was at BH. If I don’t like you, I will not pretend to. Calum drums his pencil on his desk and flashes me a smile. “So tell me, why did you move to my school close to the end of the semester?”
The door opens. “Curiosity kills the cat.”
“Na, that’s not correct.” Our eyes are focused on the door since no one has entered. “Besides, cats have nine lives. They will keep coming back.” I share eye contact with him and he shrugs. “It’s okay if you say nothing.”
His voice is so sad I have to say, “My parents were moving. I didn’t have much of a choice.”
Leaning back into his seat, he turns to the board when the teacher walks in. “Cool.”