Stare You Down

By lunch time I was positively fuming. I’d shared two classes with Tyson and he still wasn’t showing any signs of ever having met me before. I know I shouldn’t be letting it get to me that much but I couldn’t help it. There was just something about him that always managed to draw a reaction from me. He was compelling and infuriating at the same time. Not that he felt anything slightly similar in return for me. Nope, to him I was just another random girl at his new school trying to get his undivided attention for as long as possible. Point in case: I went out of my way to say hello to him between first and second period while passing him in the halls. He’d been with a couple of guys leaning against a locker, and had given me the oddest look when I’d waved and said hello. I’m talking about a point blank ‘Who the hell are you?’ expression. And while it was a much needed change to his usual scowl, I must admit it did sting to be given the same look as the anonymous girl who’d approached him shortly before me. Oh and did he bother to wave back? No, of course not. But I was rewarded with loud, obnoxious snickering from his two moronic new friends. Now I was torn between thinking that maybe I’d hallucinated his presence at the hospital or he was embarrassed to be associated with me. The first theory was ridiculous, the second insulting. He could do a lot worse than having me as a friend. And judging by his private little conversation with Serena Holden in English first period, I’d say he already has. I mean of all people, he had to chat it up with the school b***h? It figures he’d be attracted to the one person at school I hated with a vengeance. The girl was diabolical. She used her wealthy status to enhance her popularity. Being a public school, there weren’t many students from upper class families. The majority were just your average kids with two hard working parents. Serena’s dad worked a high paying job as an executive manager for a flourishing company. Ironically that company was Azalea Shipping. Serena had no idea I was the co-owner. Courtney was often urging me to enlighten her so she‘d lay off bullying me, but doing that meant enlightening the entire student body. Something I was trying to avoid. All I wanted to do was make it through high school without being in the limelight; without having my private life put on display. If that meant enduring Serena’s wrath from time to time, I was willing to hack it. And if Tyson saw fit to get all chummy with the spawn of Satan, that was his choice.
I grabbed a lunch tray just inside the cafeteria and joined the line of hungry students eagerly picking their lunches. Glancing around the large open space for Courtney, I absently tossed a few things onto my tray. No sign of her. She was probably using her free time wisely, sizing up prospective boyfriends or catching up with her dozens of friends. No sign of Tyson either, my mind readily supplied, but I squashed that thought immediately. I was so not looking for him. Really, I couldn’t care less where he was or what he was doing.
No sooner had I made that bold claim than the cafeteria’s double doors swung open and a group of seniors walked in, hooting and hollering like they’d just heard the funniest joke in the world. And in the centre was none other than Tyson. I ground my teeth in sheer frustration. I was getting tired of seeing that stupid smug look on his face everywhere I went. And it was only the first day of bloody school. As if sensing a pair of eyes on him, Tyson snapped his head up and looked in my direction. Our eyes locked, and although the intelligent part of my brain told me to avert my gaze, I didn’t. Instead, I chose to listen to the defiant part of myself that encouraged me to stare away - to try and get a reaction out of him for a change. At first I thought it wouldn’t work, that Tyson would just dismiss me as he had been doing all day. But to my shock, his bright blue eyes continued to bore into mine, even as he answered something the person beside him said.
Oh, it was so on, I thought, even as it briefly crossed my mind that staring competitions had been obsolete since like the third grade.
I kept my eyes riveted, even as my heart began to thump in my chest. I tracked his progress across the room to a table on the far right, while he in turn watched me, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. Not even when someone bumped me from behind, trying to get me to move up in line, did I break eye contact. I held his gaze and moved forward, reaching blindly to my right for a sandwich box. Someone tapped him on the arm and said something, and although he replied, his gaze never wavered from mine. Hmmm… this was lasting longer than I thought it would. Almost like he was taking this as seriously as I was. Still, I thought, squaring my shoulders. I wasn’t going to let him get the better of me. Not this time. For once, I was going to emerge victorious. Yep, I could do this all day. I would outstare him if it was the last thing -
“Excuse me,” a loud voice said, rather emphatically. I jumped and whirled around. The lady at the paying station was looking at me pointedly. What the? How did I end up here? I could have sworn I was only half way down the line a second ago. I swung my gaze back to Tyson in time to see a victorious smirk cross his face before he returned his full attention to his group of friends.
Jesus Christ! Seriously? I couldn’t even win a lousy staring competition? One I’d started in the first place? Stupid Tyson. Stupid lunch lady, it was all her fault I’d lost.
$4.65,” she said as I turned to face her.
“Huh?” I asked dumbly.
She sighed in exasperation, and something in the way she rolled her eyes told me that she wasn‘t being paid nearly enough to put on a happy face and smile for the irritating teenagers she had to serve.
“$4.65,” she repeated, this time slowly like I was mentally challenged.
I felt my cheeks redden and handed over the money before hustling over to an empty table, head down so as to avoid making eye contact with anyone.
Courtney made an appearance toward the end of lunch, with a vaguely familiar blonde girl in tow. She plopped into the seat opposite me while the other girl chose to sit beside me, placing a heaping plate of lasagne in front of her. If I remembered correctly, she was in my English class last year. I squinted my eyes in concentration. Amber or Aimee, or -
“Hey No, you remember Ashleigh, yeah?” Courtney said in way of greeting.
Oh, Ashleigh. Well, I was close. I spared a glance at Ashleigh, who was already gulping down large spoonfuls of lasagne like there was no tomorrow.
“Yeah, hi Ashleigh.”
She waved her spoon in response, which was just as well. I had no desire to be sprayed with chunks of beef and pasta had she chosen to open her bulging mouth at that point.
“Sorry I’m late. Ash had to stop by the main office and pick up the tryout forms. Then she asked me to help hand some of them out.”
I waved away her apology and handed her my barely touched sandwich.
“Egg salad?” Courtney gave me an odd look. “You hate egg salad.”
Yes, but thanks to a certain someone, I just picked up any old sandwich with out looking at what exactly it was. I realised Courtney was waiting for a response.
I shrugged. “Got it by mistake. But you like egg salad, right?”
She grinned, swiping a few stray curls out of her eyes. “I like all food. Especially if I’m not buying it,” she said before taking a huge bite.
“Hmmm,” Ashleigh said, swallowing. She was looking me up and down, a thoughtful expression on her face. “You’re pretty small, Noah. You’d be great to toss around or stick at the top of the pyramid. Ever thought of trying out?”
I stared at her blankly. Was she talking in some kind of code?
Before I could ask her of she’d hit her head recently, she thrust a piece of paper under my nose. Oh, right. Now it all made sense. Cheerleading tryouts.
I let out a bark of laughter.
“Sorry, but you’re definitely asking the wrong person,” I said.
“Why? I saw you dance at the Spring Fling last year and damn, you got some serious moves.”
My ears instantly burned red. “Had I known people were going to be more interested in watching me let loose rather than focusing on their own fun, I would have stayed in the corner all night and sipped punch,” I mumbled.
Courtney laughed. “No you wouldn’t have. Because that’s how I found out the punch was spiked.”
“What?” I asked incredulously. “You told me you were sick because the quiche was bad.”
Courtney burst out laughing, the loud sound ringing out, drawing some stares.
“That was because my mother was in the room when we were on the phone. I couldn’t just blurt out that I had a killer hangover with her listening in, could I?”
Oh, point taken. Courtney’s mother would have had a cow if she’d known Courtney was drinking at a school function. Then the school would have just about had a herd of cows falling all over themselves trying to appease Courtney’s mother when she stormed up to the school to complain and demand some sort of action be taken. And knowing Courtney’s mom, nothing short of the entire student body taking a lie detector test to find the guilty party would have mollified her. Yep, Christine Keller brings a whole new meaning to the word overprotective. Courtney said if her mother ever found out half of the things she got up to, Christine would send her to live with her aunt in the outback in Australia. Personally, I thought Christine would go one further and send Courts to a convent in Rome.
“But Ash, she’s right,” Courtney went on. “It wouldn’t work out. Noah’s terrified of heights. Seriously, she breaks out in a nervous sweat climbing a flight of stairs.”
“I do not,” I sputtered indignantly. Yes, I had an issue with heights, but it was nowhere near that dire.
Ashleigh laughed. “Well, it was worth a try. If you get over your fear of heights before the competition starts, let me know. You’d be perfect.” She shovelled another spoonful of food into her mouth and cracked open a soda. I looked hard at her petite frame. She was taller than me by a few inches, but she was still rail thin. Reminded me of a fragile bird. Where did all the bloody food go? Her mountainous plate was already half empty and she as still going strong.
A chorus of loud laughter startled us from across the room. The three of us looked over, and I wasn’t surprised to see which table it was coming from.
“Ugh,” Courtney said, eyeing the group with distaste. “Could they be any more obvious. They might as well hang a banner above their table that says ‘Look here’.”
I raised my eyebrows at her. Talk about a pot-meet-kettle scenario right there.
She cracked a smile and flicked her hair. “Don’t give me that look. Girls can get away with it. But guys hooting and hollering like that just look obnoxious. See, now that’s a real man,” she said, looking to her left.
We followed her line of sight over to where Drew was sitting, lunch discarded in favour of tapping away furiously at his phone. I snorted. Looked like Drew had just become Courtney’s next prey. God help him.
“Drew Ferguson?” Ashleigh asked, wiping grease off her chin.
Courtney nodded her head vigorously. “ Isn’t he just gorgeous? I definitely want me a piece of that.”
Oh forget it. Even God couldn’t save Drew from Courtney Keller.
Ashleigh screwed up her delicate nose, trying to see the appeal in Drew. I joined her. I had to admit, he was pretty good looking. Tall, probably over 6 feet which was a definite bonus in Courtney’s books. Dirty blonde hair. Green eyes. Slightly crooked nose, but it actually didn’t make him any less attractive.
I shrugged. “He’s alright.” Ashleigh nodded in agreement, but then looked the other way.
“I’m more interested in what the new guy’s like.”
Say what?
“What? Tyson?” Courtney said, Drew temporarily forgotten.
Ashleigh nodded, still gazing dreamily to her right. I refused to look over.
“I mean I’ve seen him a few times today and damn but he’s drool worthy. Is he a package deal?”
Courtney and I offered her blank stares in response. Ashleigh giggled.
“You know, does he have a sweet personality to go with that fine body of his.”
Immediately, images of Tyson at his moodiest swam into my head. Particularly the one of him brushing me off in the hall earlier.
“No, he doesn’t,” I snapped suddenly, slamming my empty water bottle onto my tray. Both girls looked at me with wide eyes, mouths open in shock, but I had more to add.
“He’s arrogant.”
Smack. My sandwich box crumpled as I slapped it down next to the water bottle.
“Moody.”
Smack. Cookie wrapper, next to sandwich box.
“Inconsiderate.”
Smack. Orange peels, top of the pile.
“A complete jerk.”
I looked down. I’d run out of rubbish to slam on to my tray, and appropriate adjectives too. Before Courtney could recover and muster up a comment on my outburst, the shrill sound of the school bell cut her off. Just as well. I was not in the mood to give long explanations.
I cleared my throat and forced a smile.
“Sorry. I guess I just don‘t like the guy. What can I say?” I shrugged apologetically before grabbing my tray and making a hasty exit.