The War Between Us : Chapter 14

by September
in

 

Chapter 14:

 

Well, Danielle wasn’t much help.

All she wanted to know was if there were cute boys here (I told her, I wouldn’t know the difference), and if I’ve found a new best friend (I didn’t mention Livvie, of course).

 

And I was half way through the whole story, when she kept interrupting me about how her life was currently, what new trinket she bought yesterday or how clever she’s gotten to be.

It seriously bored me to death, and so, I cut the story short, but she still didn’t come up with moral support (which is what best friends are supposed to give each other).

 

I hung up on her just now, and right now, I’m sprawled across my bed, hair streaming out over my shoulders. It was almost the weekends (what a relief) and the first week of Chelsea Heights High School life (what a flowery phrase) was lowering my self-esteem already, turning to be the chaotic week I had hoped it wouldn’t be.

 

It was Thursday afternoon, and the piles of homework spread across my desk was waiting for me, but I still couldn’t make myself get up and do it.

I had so much of thinking to do.

 

What was Wilcox planning?

 

What did Harvey Ryder think of me now?

 

Would he rat me out?

 

Would I get in trouble again?

 

Would I be expelled?

 

Did Mr. Hudgens figure out my little trick yet, or was he still in shock-land?

 

Too many questions, yet – no answers.

But it’s not like I worry too much. I’m sure everything would turn out just fine.

However, I still didn’t get to see Ryder after that ‘blast’ that happened.

 

I went to the clinic, but apparently, he was let off, since he didn’t seem to have any injuries (of course he wouldn’t! That fizz bomb is totally injury-proof! Right? ..Right?) and according to the chubby nurse who was at the counter – he seemed to have gone straight back to his classes.

 

But I didn’t believe that, of course. What common fool would go back to study after being sprayed with disgusting slime? If it were me, I would have gone straight home to have a proper hot bath in a Jacuzzi or something.

 

So, I trusted my instincts and didn’t go to look for him. Though, of course, I’m planning on seeing him tomorrow morning itself.

And apologizing.

 

And possibly, falling to my knees to beg him not to fink on me.

 

I’m not saying that he’s the type of guy who finks, but still – you never know.

As they say, “It’s better to be late, than sorry”.

 

And boy, have I been sorry for the past few days. I way do not need more of ‘sorry’.

I sighed, as I mused. I curled up on my side, turning my head, and watched the neighborhood as through the window that was facing me.

The Baxter’s that lived up front had a cozy garden, I could tell, since Mr. Baxter was stretched out on the lawn itself, a newspaper covering his face. And right next door, where the family of the small boy I met a few days ago lived, I watched as birds twittered about a little birdhouse hung up on a leafy tree.

I had one in my garden, too, of course.

 

Oh, no, not a birdhouse.

I mean, a tree.

I guess, when they built this neighborhood, they wanted some of the houses to be identical, because our garden tree was planted in just the same place when it was planted next door.

 

I’m not usually this observant, though – but I guess it’s because I’m trying to take things off of my mind.

Off of what tomorrow would be like, when I’d have to face Harvey Ryder.

 

Formerly, a good guy –

Now, a fink.

(Though, like I said, I could never be sure of that).

 

I close my eyes, dreaming up possible explanations I could give Harvey.

Not that I’d have to practice in front of a mirror or anything.

 

Because, here comes the truth – I totally do not have any explanations to give Harvey Ryder.

Yeah, that’s right, go ahead.

 

Boo me.

 

---

 

 

 

When the bus’s door opens with a squelching sound, I hurriedly walk up the steps.

I was so nervous, I was frightening me myself.

I wasn’t used to being nervous.

Especially about issues concerning boys.

 

I press myself down onto a seat, and look out the window, like I always do; jerking at each stop, and watching kids run up to the bus. It was something to occupy myself while I sat inside this metal piece of yellowed junk.

I didn’t make any close friends or anything – just a simple ‘hi’ would do to who ever ends up sitting beside me. The rest of the conversation, you ask?

 

Well, nil. Nada. Zilch.

 

Got me?

 

My forehead pressed against the glass as the greenery passed in swift motion outside. I was staring blankly at normal people, when, at the next jerk – indicating the next stop -  a black-clothed person suddenly happened to materialize outside, as he ran up to the bus in which I was currently sitting in.

 

I don’t know why the black color made me alert, but I guess it was due to yesterday’s incident – in which I clearly remembered what colored clothes Ryder was wearing.

Of course, there was a one in a million chance of this black-clothed boy being Ryder, but still, I couldn’t help but raise my curious eyes up to the front of the aisle, as the door opened again, squelching.

 

You would have thought – considering all the bad luck that had been occurring to me lately; the bad luck definitely couldn’t get any worse, right?

 

Wrong.

 

Because, although my head is screaming to me, “READY THE SPEECH!, READY THE SPEECH!”, I can still manage to tell you who that black-clothed boy is, though, you’d probably already know who it is, considering my ranted raving.

 

Yes, that’s right.

 

HARVEY RYDER.

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