Twisted Fate

I had been looking forward to World History. It had always been one of my favourite subjects, along with Gym. But when I walked into the classroom, I stopped dead in my tracks and had to talk myself out of skipping for the rest of the year. Sitting in the middle of the room with a smug look on his face was Aidan. God d****t! Was I ever going to get a break? As if in answer to my question, Aidan caught sight of me standing in the doorway and winked, removing his bag from the chair next to him. Well, there it was. No breaks for me. Thinking I’d missed his not so subtle hint, he tapped the table, an inviting smile on his face. I sighed. I found it hard to believe that once upon a very short time ago I’d found him attractive. Had wanted to date him. Had ended up dating him. I looked him over in an entirely objective manner and fought a grimace. Courtney was right. I must have been insane to want him. Where the contours of his face had once seemed smooth and angular, they now looked sharp and rigid. I also remembered thinking those sparkling green eyes of his held a secret that I alone could uncover. Now I knew all that twinkle meant was that he was feeling particularly horny. I used to fantasize about running my hands through his thick, glossy black hair. Only once I was finally able to do it, I found out that gloss was really a thick layer of wax, the result of Aidan’s reasoning that chicks “digged the wet look”. It was a real pain getting the gunk out from under my nails afterwards.
Aidan cleared his throat, growing impatient. That was another thing that bothered me about him. His short temper and how easy it was to set him off on a rampage. I think the vivid scar on my hand was testament enough of that. But right now, the thing that was aggravating me the most was his refusal to accept reality. Even after a month of me avoiding him, of not returning his calls or messages, he still wouldn’t concede that we were over. In his eyes, we’d just had a minor spat and a little sweet talking on his part was going to make it all better. How many times did I have to tell him that there was no way in hell I was going to waltz back into his arms? The way he was looking at me told me it’d take a few more firm words; words strong enough to penetrate his thick skull. Gnashing my teeth together in fury, I strove for nonchalance as I held my head up high and walked straight past him to claim one of the empty seats in the back. Luckily for him, he didn’t get up to follow me to my seat. See, I was this close to losing my cool and if someone was going to be on the receiving end, I’d love for it to be him. He simply adopted a perturbed expression, eyes narrowed at my defiant behaviour. And being the mature, sophisticated person that I was, I resisted the urge to poke my tongue at him and instead averted my gaze. I shrugged out of my backpack and placed it on the bench beside me, hoping to deter anyone from sitting next to me. Formerly a science lab, the classroom was furnished with benches for two rather than separate desks, allowing close workstations for students partaking in science experiments. All it did for the World history class was provide the perfect way for students to covertly cuddle up against each other or play an advanced version of footsy - one that involved the whole leg from hip to toes - when the teacher wasn’t paying attention. Now I had no problems with touchy feely people. I just had problems with people touchy feeling me. Hence the bag as a reinforcement. I patted it reassuringly and was just about to rest my head on my arms when Serena Holden strutted in. Oh, for the love of god! Was this some kind of karmic retribution or something? Had I done something in my past life to put me at the top of someone’s s**t list? Because the way things were panning out today definitely weren‘t in my favour. Feeling the eyes of most of the class on her, Serena paused in the doorway striking a pose that Tyra Banks would say was CoverGirl material, but that I thought was a definite and unhealthy strain on the old hamstrings. She took in the room with one sweeping glance before her steel gray eyes settled on me, a wicked grin curling her lips. And the torture begins, I thought sardonically, a headache from the days stress taking up residence right behind my eyes. Small blessings, I told myself. Like thanking god that it was last period.
Flicking her long blonde hair she sauntered down the row of tables, hips swaying so wide I thought she was in danger of dislocating one, before dropping into the seat next to Aidan. Throwing a pointed glance at me over her shoulder she leaned in to whisper something in Aidan’s ear. I perked up instantly. I knew Serena well enough to know that she thought she was inflicting me with maximum pain. I swear I couldn’t help the broad grin that dominated my face, but I was able to choke back the bubble of laughter ready to escape. This moment was priceless. Serena Holden was trying to make me jealous. Though she had no idea she was playfully rubbing up against my ex. I tsked, shaking my head slowly. Here I’d thought that nothing good would come from Aidan’s delusional outlook on our relationship. Clearly I was wrong. Forget being eager to rectify it. It was rather entertaining watching Serena flirt up a storm with my ex for nothing. Maybe I’d get lucky and he’d end up pushing her down a flight of stairs. Off the school roof? One could only hope, I thought as our teacher strode into the room and shut the door behind her.
The class fell silent quickly as she unceremoniously dumped her leather briefcase and several stacks of paper onto her desk. Arms free, she tugged at the jacket of her charcoal gray pantsuit, apparently trying to straighten an imaginary crinkle.
She turned to stand in front of us and cleared her throat. “My name is Miss Clarke. Welcome to World History.”
Her dark brown hair framed her face in a bob cut, and a smattering of freckles covered her cheeks and nose. I thought the pantsuit was a little dressy, but I had to admit she wore it well.
She picked up a stack of papers which she divided into smaller lots and placed on the front bench of each row with instructions to take one and pass them back.
“The booklet being passed out is the course outline. If you’ll please turn to page three.” Wow, the woman wasted no time in getting down to business.
There was a rustling of papers as the class obeyed. I flipped to the page in question and glanced at the title: HISTORY FOR YOUR FUTURE.
“As well as your normal coursework in which we will be covering Ghandi and the Salt March, feminism in the nineteenth century, and medieval England, we will be delving into something new.” I noticed she said the word “new” like it was tainted. “The school board has expressed concern about the school curriculum. They especially feel that students aren’t gaining anything beneficial from the subjects the World History course covers. Of course they concede that it teaches us valuable lessons in an attempt to stop us from repeating past events. But they have come to the conclusion that World History lacks important dynamics that a student should be introduced to help with self development. What they’d like to see is something in the program that ensures students relate to a subject on a personal level; are introduced to something that directly affects them and has a longstanding impact on how they view their own futures based on what they have uncovered from the past.”
The more she spoke, the more I could tell that Miss Clarke disagreed with the school board and disliked their interference with her teaching preferences. At present, she was pacing back and forth at the front of the room, almost spitting the words out like they tasted foul coming from her mouth. As if suddenly becoming aware of her inappropriate behaviour, she stopped pacing abruptly and tugged on the jacket to her pantsuit before managing a small smile.
“The proposal was put forward to The Board of Education last year and this is what they came up with.”
She indicated the booklet by waving it in front of her. I glanced again at the title as she began outlining the assignment.
“The following assignment is to be done in pairs. The duration of the assignment will be for me to decide based on how much we get done this first semester.”
There were a few confused looks at that last statement. I think it was unheard of to have a piece of work assigned to a class without a finish date. Miss Clarke noticed the stares and proceeded to clue us in.
“Although The Board of Education was enthusiastic about this new approach, they were not willing to drop anything from the current curriculum in case it was not successful.”
A hand shot in the air. I recognised it as belonging to Janie Miller, the girl in the lead for valedictorian. Miss Clarke nodded her head in Janie’s direction.
“So you’re saying we’re the guinea pigs?” Janie asked.
Miss Clarke considered this for a few seconds before shrugging.
“Basically. If it’s a total disaster you’ll all walk away with a bad mark on your report card -” Janie’s face paled considerably as she digested this piece of information. I don’t think the girl had received anything short of an A all her life. “- and the Board will can it for next years class.”
When there were no more questions Miss Clarke continued.
“Because of the added workload to an already full year, we have no choice but to complete the assignment on the side. This means I cannot devote a certain amount of class time. You’ll have to do your own independent research and I suspect most of the essay preparation as well as the actual essay writing will have to be done in your own time. I’ll find time at the end of the semester to evaluate the class’s progress as a whole and decide a due date then.”
I tuned out the rest of what Miss Clarke said to go over the details of the assignment. Working in pairs, we’d be given one of four concepts: family, money, race or religion. Then we had to research that concept - the general history behind it, find out what it means to us personally, and also dig into our pasts to see how the concept related to our ancestors. We were also required to use our partner as a case study. A case study? My stomach churned with uneasiness as it sunk in. I read on and the feeling only intensified. We pretty much had to bare our souls on the topic we were given. I scanned the four concepts once more. Family. Nobody but Courtney knew my parents were dead. Going out with Aidan had been easy in that respect. He was so self absorbed he didn’t once ask about my home life. I looked around at the rest of my classmates. Uh-uh. No way was I sharing that kind of personal information. I read the next one. Money. Again, nobody knew how well off I was financially. And I had no intention of broaching that subject either. I looked at the last two. Race. Religion. My stomach eased somewhat. Now those two I had no problem opening up about. I wasn’t the religious type and I was your average American. Nothing bad could come of that. I closed the booklet and prayed that when the time came, I’d luck out get one of the last two.
“Right.” Miss Clarke clapped her hands together, the sharp sound startling me out of my thoughts. “The assignment will be worth 20% of your overall grade and has been marked as one you’ll need a passing grade in if you want to pass the class as a whole.”
There was a collective groan as the class realised History was no longer an easy A. I had to agree, this assignment sounded like more work than it was worth.
“The box being passed around contains slips of paper with a concept on them and a number. Go around and match yours with the person who has the same. He or she will be your partner for the duration of the assignment.”
After fishing my paper out I passed the box on and held my breath. Extremely apprehensive and not wanting to prolong the feeling, I flipped the slip over and read it. My stomach hit the floor, followed quickly by my thudding heart. I reread the small piece of paper, hoping I’d misread. The words stayed the same.
Family.
That was my concept. Now all that was left was to find out who my partner was. I watched as the room erupted into chaos, people searching out their other halves. I decided to stay where I was and let mine seek me out. Suddenly remembering Aidan, I shot a panicked look in his direction but he too hadn’t moved. A stormy expression clouded his face and I briefly wondered at the cause of it when the answer became clear. Serena also hadn’t moved and was now throwing triumphant looks my way. So the spawn of Satan had been saddled up with the deluded moron. Secretly this pleased me. They deserved each other. The chaos died down as everyone partnered up and sat in pairs, and it took me a while to realise the seat next to me was still empty. I did a double take of the room, counting as I went. Dare I hope? The class had an odd number and I was the odd one out. Usually this would upset me. But at the moment it was the best thing that could happen. Now I could do the assignment solo and avoid airing my personal life. Score!
Seeing that the class had settled, Miss Clarke tugged on her pantsuit - I could see it was a bad habit of hers - and spoke once more.
“This assignment is going to require you to get real personal with your partner. These concepts may seem simple - one tiny word written down on a piece of paper. But they are very complicated, and making a case study requires a lot of information.” She began to pace leisurely up the rows, eyeing each of us in turn. “You can’t just ask the obvious. You need to dig deep. So be prepared for difficult questions, and be open minded. Remember, there are no right or wrong answers. The person sitting next to you may have different religious beliefs. That doesn’t mean yours are wrong and theirs are right. It just makes you different. The person sitting next to you may suffer financially. That doesn’t mean they know less about money than you do.”
Her speech finished, she strode back to the front of the room and consulted her watch.
“Okay, now that you have your assignments and partners, are there any questions?”
I raised my hand tentatively.
“Yes?”
“What if you don’t have a partner?” I glanced meaningfully at the empty seat next to me.
“Oh,” Miss Clarke consulted her class roll.
I crossed my fingers under the table. Please say everyone’s present. Please tell me I can work alone. Please, please, please, I chanted silently.
Miss Clarke did a quick head count. “Someone’s absent. When they show up, they’ll be your partner.”
I nodded, even as the last flare of hope deserted me. Well, that was that. I sighed heavily, wondering who my partner was going to be and asking myself if I could really open up to someone I barely knew.
“Any other questions?” Miss Clarke asked.
Before anyone had time to raise their hand the door to the classroom opened and Tyson walked in.
Oh. My. God. There was no way my luck was that bad. Impossible. I watched Tyson hand a piece of paper over to Miss Clarke but missed what he said. The class had started chatting away, taking advantage of our teachers distracted state. Miss Clarke nodded and I strained to hear over the constant stream of noise in the room. It was no good. Tyson said something else and I began to wonder if he wasn’t going to stay. Maybe he was just delivering a note. Asking about a previous class he’d had with her? I had just convinced myself of this when Miss Clarke picked up a course outline from her desk along with the last slip of paper from the box and pointed in my direction. Tyson followed the line of her hand and his eyes came to rest on me. I in turn almost groaned in misery, ignoring the faint flutter of my heart when we locked eyes. Trademark scowl in place, Tyson made his way to the back of the room straight towards me. I swiped my backpack off the table and with effort, forced my eyes away from him to look up at the ceiling. I imagined I could see through it, all the way up to Heaven where there was supposedly a God who was most likely sitting on his royal a*s, laughing at my misfortune. Strike me now, I begged. Just do it and put me out of my misery. I heard the chair beside me scrape slightly as Tyson pulled it out, and as he sat down a heady scent accosted my nose. I breathed in, savouring the delicious smell when an identifying component caught my attention and I almost choked on air. It was the faint floral scent of jasmine. The exact same smell I’d detected on Tyson that night at the hospital. I snuck a sideways glance at him but he was busy reading the course outline. It was him that smelled so good? He looked sideways at me and my traitorous heart skipped a beat. Okay, maybe several. I mentally slapped myself. You’re wasting your time, I scolded myself. He’s made it clear he isn’t interested in you in the least. Regaining what little composure I had left, I sat up straighter and looked straight ahead. The class was at full throttle now, students calling clear across the room to their friends. I looked at the clock on the wall. Ten more minutes to go. Then I’d be out of here and the longest, most miserable day of my life would be over.
It took no time at all for Miss Clarke to regain control of the class. Once she had our undivided attention she asked if we had any more questions. I saw a hand shoot into the air out of the corner of my eye. Did a double take. Well I’ll be damned. Was Serena Holden actually participating in a class discussion? Surely Hell had just frozen over. I wasn’t the only one shocked. Several people were eyeing Serena like she’d suddenly sprouted another head.
“Can we change partners?” Serena asked.
A murmur shot around the room and I saw Aidan sit up straighter, waiting for her answer. As much as I wasn’t relishing the prospect of being partnered with Tyson, the possibility of Aidan becoming my partner outright terrified me.
“Why would you want to do that” Miss Clarke enquired. “Is there a problem with your current one?”
Serena eyed Aidan with a look of distaste, clearly done with being chummy. But why the sudden change? And then it hit me. I watched as she shot Tyson a furtive glance before answering.
“No,” she said. “I just think that we’re old enough to decide for ourselves who we want to work with. I mean, some of us are 18, the rest will be soon. And the school is all about treating us like adults. So doesn’t it stand to reason that as adults we should be old enough and mature enough to choose our own partners without there being some big dilemma?”
Bullshit. Mature adult my a*s. More like a master schemer. Unfortunately Miss Clarke wasn’t attuned to Serena’s conniving personality and seemed to really consider her request. In the end she said, “Well, I don’t see why not. If all parties involved agree, then it’s fine. But there will be no more changes after this week.” She glanced at her watch. “There’s five minutes left. If you want to change partners now, then do it.”
The class immediately teemed with activity as chairs scraped back and people rushed to change partners or concepts. Before I could even ask Tyson if he wanted to go and find someone else, Serena appeared at our table, hovering ominously over me. A cloud of perfume preceded her arrival, the smell cloying, stinging my nose. I tried to cough discreetly but needn’t have bothered. Her eyes were fixated on Tyson.
“Hey, Tyson,” she purred.
He looked up at her, an eyebrow raised in question.
“How’d you like to be my partner?” she asked, smiling seductively. “I’m sure we’d get along great.” At this point, she finally acknowledged my existence by offering me a withering stare. “And it would work out for all of us, seeing as Noah and Aidan are a couple. I’m sure they’d love the extra time together.” The look in her eyes promised me a lifetime of punishment if I dared argue with her. I sighed heavily. She was wasting her energy. It didn’t matter to me. The way I saw it, it was a lose-lose situation. Option one: stay with Tyson and endure the wrath of Serena ten fold, or option two: get stuck with Aidan and be done in for murder in the first degree. Because seriously, there was no way I wasn’t going to kill him if I had to work with him.
Before I could decide which was the lesser of two evils, Tyson spoke up beside me.
“It’s not going to happen. Whether she likes it or not, she’s stuck with me. So why don’t you go back to your own partner and let him know that if he wants to spend extra time with her, it’ll have to wait until after school.”
I sat there stunned, but not half as stunned as Serena was. Her mouth was hanging open, giving her a very unflattering likeness to a fish with huge juju lips. A smug satisfaction washed over me. I didn’t think Serena had ever been rejected before in her life. Also, I didn’t think I’d ever heard Tyson string that many words together in one sentence.
I had to work hard to keep a smile from creeping onto my face. Oh, who am I kidding? The smile was already there. But I did have to work hard to keep from outright laughing at her and saying “How do you like them apples?”
Growing slightly red in the face, whether from embarrassment or sheer anger was anyone‘s guess, Serena clamped her mouth shut. She forced an indulgent smile at Tyson.
“Oh, Tyson. You’re so sweet,” she said, placing her hand on his arm. “But when you get tired of this,” She indicated me with a flick of her head. “Let me know.”
The bell sounded overhead, and not a moment too soon. The tension in the air had grown so thick I could cut it with a knife. Much like I imagined Serena wanted to do to me right now. Slice me right down the middle. Of course, I was only going by the evil glint in her eye before she strutted away to grab her bag and march from the room. Well, this was in one word: craptastic. My life was officially over. Serena would take Tyson’s refusal as my fault. She already had. Trying to find a fast solution, I turned to Tyson. He was busy scanning the course outline, seemingly oblivious to the problem he had just caused.
“Look,” I said. He didn’t give any indication that he was listening, but I continued anyway. “You don’t have to say no because of me. If you want to pair with Serena, I totally understand. I’ll just find someone who will switch with me before class tomorrow so I don’t have to work with Aidan.” How I was going to do that, I had no idea. It wasn’t that I was so unpopular that nobody would give me the time of day. It was just that I was one of the quieter people who preferred one or two friends as opposed to dozens that I’d never be able to keep track of. I had never seen a problem with it until now. Tyson dropped his paper to give me a droll stare.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” he said.
“Pardon me?” I asked, a little confused, and more than a little offended.
“I didn’t turn Serena down to protect you from your ex.” He began shoving papers into his bag.
I folded my arms over my chest, glaring at him. “Then why did you turn her down. Because FYI, you just landed me in a boat load of s**t with Serena.”
He straightened, swinging his bag over one shoulder, and scowled at me.
“Because I’m not here to play games. That girl is always up to something, and I don’t want any part of it. I’m also not going to be her new arm candy so she can parade me around for her friends.” He regarded me with a thoughtful expression before it turned blank. “And if you don’t like what she does to you, do something about it.”
I stared at him, momentarily dumbfounded. Was he lecturing me? He’d been here for a day, and he thought he had it figured out enough to give me advice?
Tyson edged around me. It wasn’t until he was half way to the door that I got my voice back. I had intended to utter some fabulous comeback about him lecturing me, but what actually came out was a far cry from what I thought I had on the tip of my tongue.
“Oh, you mean like the games you’ve been playing all day with me?” Oh, my god. Where did that come from? Tyson stopped short and pivoted to face me. I was prepared for his usual scowl, narrowed eyes and all. But what I saw shocked me beyond belief. Was Tyson Masters actually smiling? Well, okay, smile was a bit of an exaggeration, but there was a definite lift to the corners of his mouth, and his eyes danced with amusement for once rather than disdain.
“I don’t know what you mean,” he said, obviously wanting me to spell it out for him. And I was all too happy to oblige.
“You know exactly what I mean,” I said, striding up to him so we were standing toe to toe. “Purposely ignoring me all morning when you clearly remembered who I was. Making me look like an a*s in front of your stupid friends after I went out of my way to be nice to you, thinking that maybe you’d be comforted by a friendly face in a sea of strangers. And then at lunch, the whole staring thing.”
The edges of his mouth quirked even more, and he leaned forward slightly so we were almost nose to nose. My heart responded eagerly, again missing a few beats. “I didn‘t know I had such an effect on you.”
“W-what?” I stammered, suddenly flustered. Who did this guy think he was?
“Don’t flatter yourself,” I said, trying for the same flippant tone he’d used with me earlier. To my horror, instead of sounding totally badass, I sounded breathy and unsure. “Ha-ha!” Yes, that was me, letting out a bark of semi hysterical laughter. Come on, Noah, I mentally berated myself. Get a grip!
“You don’t affect me in the slightest,” I settled on saying, before I marched past him to stride out of the room. Unfortunately, I was too busy staring at him, focused on the intense blue of his eyes and that miraculous half smile to notice that the door was closed until I collided with it. The thing rattled noisily on it’s hinges, making it all the more embarrassing. Cheeks blazing, I yanked it open and fled, not missing the “Clearly,” that Tyson uttered before I was out of earshot.