Liam

Cheryl. I smile at the thought of her name. I didn’t think she would come into my life as soon as she has, but it wouldn’t be the first time. Now, I have to get her to like me, so the more she falls for me, the more she can remember about her past.

She is right about Mr. Hawthorne. He is crazier than she made him sound. The first thing he does when class starts is tell us this story about how his pet bird somehow got out of its cage, and he had to chase after it all morning. The bird’s name is Mrs. Hawthorne. I couldn’t figure out if the bird is just a reference to his wife or the bird is his wife. Then, he babbles on about his summer trip to a small village in Peru, which involved an old woman and her chicken farm.

I am slowly starting to regret choosing Advanced History I.

“Hey, you must be new?” I turn my head around to the black-haired guy sitting next to me. I think I remember him kissing some blonde primadonna outside the school when I was trying to get my stuff out of the car. 

“Yeah. I am.” He reaches his hand out, and I shake it, keeping it quick, so I don’t seem like a weirdo. Brenda, my annoying sister, told me that I need to focus on making friends and having fun, for I can be a downer and a little of a nerd. As much as I don’t want to take her advice, I need to change from my introvert persona and branch out at this school. “Liam Kennard.”

“Jake Rivera.  So where are you from, Liam?” He leans back in his chair, checking his phone and texting someone as Mr. Hawthorne goes on about this year's syllabus. I want to continue focusing on class, for I should get a start on planning my assignments this year. Another year of hard classes involves concentration and no sports, but again, my goal is to seem cool. Right now, I wish I can go back on that goal of being a dedicated student.

“Well, I was born in London, but I just came from Santa Fe.” 

“Oh, you are from London? Where is the accent?” He jokes, putting his phone down for a second.

“Well, I was born there, but my parents aren’t from England. My dad is a U.S. diplomat, and my mom is an executive manager for a well-known company. We just moved from Santa Fe, where I was for three years.”

“Santa Fe, huh? My family has a beach house in Santa Barbara. Two separate places, but it’s real nice. I wish I were there now so I can accomplish a tan like yours.” Jake leans his body forward, arms on his desk as he draws himself closer to me. “You know, man, you should hang out with a few friends and me for lunch. We all go off campus to this local diner nearby. I can even hook you up with a cutie. Regan Sanders. She is a babe with a killer a*s, but I can’t touch that since I got my babe.”

I touch my hair, combing it back then rub my hand against my rough chin. As much as hanging out with Jake and his crew is tempting, missing a chance to hang out with Cheryl alone is an opportunity I don’t want to throw away.

“You know, that sounds like fun, and I would like to meet your group, but I’m actually hanging out with someone for lunch. Her name is Cheryl.”

“Cheryl Bellini? Oh, the hot but psychotic mixed chick. You know she can punch the s**t out of someone. She did some damage to my girlfriend last year in some fight. I won’t go into details, but I was impressed. Anyways, that’s fine, man. How about after school you come hang out at my place? We’ll all be there plus you can meet my sister, Jacqueline.” The mention of his sister reminds me I promised my sister I will take her to the skating rink we saw coming into town, so she can see about joining their hockey team. However, I know I can do that for her later, so I remind myself to text her. 

“Yeah, I can do that. Just give me the address, and I’ll meet you there.” I get my phone out of the pocket of my jean and pass it to Jake. He puts his number in then put his address on my maps so I can have the location set on my phone. Before I know it, time flies by, and the bell rings. Walking out of the door, Mr. Hawthorne stops the class to pass out tons of paperwork. Outside the room, I shove all the papers in my book bag and wave Jake goodbye. His blonde girlfriend excitedly goes to him, kissing him hard on the lips before reaching for his hand. Jake whispers something in her ear, and she turns around. I quickly look away, pretending I haven’t been looking at them like a creep. In the process, I spot Cheryl making her way to me,  her eyes glued to mines. My heartbeat begins to speed up, the feeling of absolute bliss running over me as I watch her walk. 

Her brown hair has a blonde glow to it, the curls bouncing with her walk. Her light brown eyes sparkle with fire, something I didn’t notice fully earlier. If I can remember, I think her eyes has always been a fiery brown. Looking at her beige skin and cute specks of freckles around her nose and cheeks make me want to run my hands all over her and pull her in close to me. I miss the way my beloved feels warm against me, blushing under my touch. Her cheeks will get this bright pink to match her lips, and it made me want to love her more. Looking at Cheryl now, having that would make me a happy man, but the girl before me has not yet figured out she is my beloved. 

Cheryl is close to me, about to stop when she turns her head and sees Jake and his girlfriend. Her smile goes away, replace with a spiteful frown. Her eyes never leave his girlfriend’s, and I can feel the severe tension between Cheryl and her, enough to energize a storm. Jake’s girlfriend says something to Jake, and they both begin to walk away, turning their backs to us. Cheryl's eyes don't leave her target for a while, before finally, making their way to mines, softening up.

“Hey, are you ready for that lunch?” Her voice sounds peaceful, like that silent fight with Jake's girlfriend didn’t just occur. I nod, and we start walking the opposite direction of the couple. 

“So, what was up with that intense stare down back there?” I realize the minute I ask that question that I shouldn’t have made that my conversation starter because I can see her lips curl up in disgust as if just asking that made her think about her.

“Stephanie, Jake's girlfriend, and I have a, um, we have history. Not a great history. Better words, I don’t like her.” She looks at me, her face looking calm, but her eyes still flaming. 

“Oh, I see. Jake told me you, and she got into a huge fight last year. I figure that were an intense history between you two.” 

She immediately stops walking and faces me, her face going back hard. This conversation isn’t going the way I want it to go. Cheryl takes a deep breath, as if she is about to blow hot steam, and glances up at me. Her eyes have calmed down to a small fire, sadness washing it away. Her mouth moves for a second to say something, but it stops, closing shut. Finally, after a minute of frustration and meditation, she begins walking again, and I follow behind her, confused.

“I didn’t know you and Jake have become friends.” Cheryl suddenly says, never looking at me but sounds calm. I clear my throat and walk closer to her.

“Um, yeah, he is in my history class, and we started talking. He wanted me to hang out with his group for lunch, but I told them I was going to do lunch with you. He just happened to mention the fight when I said...”

“You know you could have gone with them. I wouldn’t have mind.” She interrupts, finally stopping and staring at me. I readjust my book bag on my shoulder and try to keep my eyes from looking at hers because it has regained its fire. 

“Well, yeah, I could have gone with them, but I would rather hang out with you. You are my first friend here, and I think you can give me a better opinion on Clifford Heights. Plus, you are my guide for today.” I smirk, hoping that will get her to calm down again. Successfully, I see a quick glimpse of a laugh on her face, and she turns around. She guides me down the hallway to some wide doors, which leads to the cafeteria. 

The cafeteria is not like the cafeteria I am used to in Santa Fe. It is as big as two classrooms, with crowds of teenagers mingling with their friends. The tables are more like picnic tables than long steel tables, and the walls are colored with murals of the school, which I assume its mascot is a cougar because they are everywhere. Cheryl brings me to a line, and I see people getting their food. Being the fact that I haven’t had breakfast this morning, I’m quick to grab what I can. By the time I get to the end of the line to pay, I have a full plate. Cheryl gets a glimpse of my plate and laughs, shaking her head as she pays the cashier. 

“Well, I see you are quite hungry.” I shrug my shoulder and smile as she strolls over to a side door. I help open it for her to see that the door leads to outside. She walks to a tall tree where I can see someone is already sitting down. Under the shade, I can tell the person is a girl with long blonde hair and a notebook by her side. When we get closer, the girl suddenly glances up, her green eyes on me. They look curious but friendly, a smile across her face. 

“You must be the guy everyone is talking about.” Her voice is deep but friendly opposite to Cheryl’s soft but sarcastic voice. When the girl gets up to shake my hand, I realize how much taller she is than Cheryl, and how her body is leaner compared to Cheryl's curves. The way she is looking at Cheryl, I can tell they are friends.

“Willa, this is Liam. Liam, this is my best friend, Willa.” Cheryl's face lights up at Willa, a secret conversation happening between them. Willa nods and bends down to pick up her tray and notebook. The light in Cheryl's face dims, and I can tell something is wrong. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Liam. I have heard a mighty lot about how cute you are all day, but don’t worry. You aren’t my type.” Her smirk looks familiar to me, and I just awkwardly laugh at her comment. Her eyes meet Cheryl's again, and her smirk fades to a fine line. “I got to get a head start on my portfolio for NYU. I’ll catch up with you later, Cher.” 

Before Cheryl speaks, Willa is already making her way to the door, passing someone who is coming out of the door. Cheryl stands there for a second before sitting down by the tree, grabbing her bag of chips. I squat down next to her, watching her as she chews angrily on her chips. Noticing I’m staring at her, she puts her chips down and breaths. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” I say, picking up my sandwich and taking a bite of it. The ham in my sandwich taste a little tough, but my stomach growls louder, so I continue to chew on it. Cheryl looks conflicted to say what’s on her mind, taking a bite of her chips before stopping altogether and rotating to me. She looks down as she starts to talk.

“Willa and I had a fight today, and I know it’s my fault because I have been her troubled friend for a while now. I told her she shouldn’t have changed herself to be like Stephanie, and I think she’s mad at me because I haven’t been supportive of her.” 

I take another bite of my sandwich before putting it down and stare at her. Part of me want to embrace her and pull her close to me so I can hug her, but the other part knows that I can’t do that right now. I need to give her time and space before coming at her so strong. Our eyes meet for a second, and for a moment, I can tell she sense the same thing but quickly goes back to her food and stares ahead.

“You know, I had a good reason to start that fight.” She starts to eat her salad but continues to look at the building. I take the cue and start to eat my ham sandwich again but pausing to speak to her.

“You are talking about that fight last year with Jake's girlfriend?” 

“Stephanie, yes.” She takes a quick glance at me before continuing. “We have never liked each other since I can remember. Always going back and forth with insults. Last year, though, near the end of school, we both had gym together. Our class was playing volleyball that day, and I was serving. When I spiked the ball, I didn’t realize Stephanie was in the way. Obviously, she got hurt and was severely upset, but she didn’t attack me back. However, when everyone was in the shower, she came up to me while I was changing. She threw my towel off and told everyone I had a crush on her boyfriend, and that I was obsessed with Jake. Then, she told me Jake would never take a negro girl like me, especially one with pubes as my hair. So, I punched her and slammed her head on the floor. I never punched someone so much. The coach finally broke us up, and she sent me to the principal. He wanted to expel me, but after a few witnesses had told him the truth of what happened, he suspended Stephanie and me for two days.” 

By the time Cheryl finished, I manage to eat most of my food, watching her as she talked, barely eating. Her face was changing throughout the story, going from angry to frustrated to emotionless. From seeing Stephanie on a few occasions this morning and earlier, I can sense she is not a girl with a kind heart. I can see why Jake stays with her, though, for she has the personality of a trophy wife. 

Cheryl finally gives up on eating and stares down at the ground, amused by a lady bug crawling next to her. My mouth moves to say something, but I don’t know what to say to her without sounding weird or stupid. So finally, I sigh and comb my hair from my forehead.

“You don’t seem like the type of girl to take any bullshit. I have noticed that about you so far.” Cheryl turns her head to my direction in a sharp way, her fiery brown eyes calming down to a halt. Her mouth twitches on the corners, the small lines on her forehead creasing. We stare at each other for what seemed like forever, her face set in dismay but a soothing way. I can feel that she has been through hardship just by the way her eyes glistened when I said she doesn’t take bullshit, but I can also see a glimpse of my hot-headed beloved deep in her. It is fighting to come out and show its true colors, set me straight. However, the minute I see it, it swiftly hides back inside and leaves me with an unsettled Cheryl. Her mouth forms into a grim line, and she looks away from me, gathering her trash onto her tray. I pick up my trash as well, getting up with her. 

She didn’t speak the entire walk from the tree to the cafeteria. While all the commotions of teenagers chatting with their friends and smacking on food went around us, Cheryl moves with poise but anger, throwing away her trash with such aggression. When she walks outside of the cafeteria, I follow behind her. She comes to a stop a few feet outside the door then clears her throat, never spinning around to face me. 

“Where’s your next class?” Her voice is raspy, audible but at most a harsh whisper. 

I dig into my book bag and find my notebook to pull out my schedule. “Ms. Franklin, Advanced Chemistry in Room 236.” She nods then continues down the hallway, taking a turn to the left to another hallway. The entire time, I catch up to besides her, occasionally sneaking a look her way. I wish I can pick at her brain, figure out past that stone wall what she is thinking. That’s the one thing I could never do with my beloved, figure out her thoughts. She always shields herself away from people, a beautiful mystery. As I glance at Cheryl, I can see that part of her has never left. 

I know that Cheryl will never understand my motives or gestures, but I would give anything to let her know that she is my beloved, the love of my life. 

Pausing at the door, Cheryl turns around and holds my stare. For some strange reason beyond me, I smile at her, my whole face feeling like it is lighting up. Her face, in return, appears confused but no longer full of anger at the world. I sigh and gesture to the door. 

“This must be my stop. Where can a guy who is new here be able to see a lovely lady again?” The smirk on her face reassures me that she is no longer upset. 

“You know there is this alley behind the school, where all of the lovely ladies go to. It is where we all go to avoid questions like that.” She says with such demeanor. I snort a little bit and shift my body, my arms crossing my chest. 

“I am serious, Cheryl. I would like to hang out with you. Is that a crime with you?” I laugh, watching her expression. The fire in her eyes are playing with humor, and her lips form into a small smile.

“You know what, sure, fine. We can hang out. You are new to this town, so I will be happy to give you a tour this week. I usually am spotted outside a place called The Loser on Sullen Drive. I know, a great place to hang out. Meet me there tomorrow after school.” She begins to walk backward, keeping her eyes on me. “You know, wearing tight shirts will give people the wrong idea of you around here.”

I look down to my outfit. I put on a fitting black tee shirt I found in my drawer and my favorite loose pair of denim with my black converse to match. I can admit the shirt does feel a little snug on me, but from the way girls stare at me today from my slightly built arms and chest, I think I am giving people the right idea around here. The fact that Cheryl notices it makes it me want to dig even more into her head and figure out what she is saying in that mind of hers. 

“I think I am giving off the right message around here. I haven’t heard any complaints.” I can feel my sly smirk on my face because her eyes widen a little. A sense of remembrance flashes on her face but is quickly shaken away by a harsh laugh. 

“You might have a body teenage girls hover over, but I want to know the real Liam Kennard, the one beyond the body. Anyways, I got a glimpse of your schedule and saw your last class.” She pauses and stops walking, pointing her arm to the right. “Come to this hallway and continue down until you see a room with strings of lights. That’s where your next class is. I don’t know much about Ms. Franklin, but Mrs. Gordon is a sweetheart. She loves when students go the extra mile, but like me, she doesn’t take bullshit. You’ll like her.” 

I nod and grin at her and am surprised when she places a huge smile on her face too. “Hope you have a great day in class, Cheryl.”

“You too, new guy.” She snorts, turning around before disappearing around a corner among the crowd. I stand there with the biggest grin on my face, hoping that this is my gateway to finding out more about Cheryl. She might be a wild card, but I know that if she is anything like her past self, she will be willing to let me know her more than anyone. I rub my chin and walk into the classroom.