Chapter 6 [The Siren]
The school was pretty flexible with our comings and goings as long as we were back in the dorm by 10pm, a senior’s privilege we had come to earn.
So as often as we could afford with our sad earnings and pocket money, we drove out from the shit hole that was school to find some half-decent food (not that I’m complaining about the food at AIU, but sometimes mushroom soup for a month is a little much).
We were driving up to a small cafe about three-quarters of an hour away that sold donuts until midnight. They had really good coffee and in my opinion, the world’s best pancakes. Not too shabby for £10 each.
“Ooh I love this song!” Pam turned up the volume, singing the song word for word, her rainbow lollipop earrings bouncing in time with the music.
I looked back at Jaime who was nodding his head to the beat while picking the fluff off of his father’s jacket he dorned.
I made a face at the stereo.
“Do we have to listen to this shit?”
Pam sniffed and flashed a side eye at me. “Driver’s prerogative.”
I stared at the korean words on her phone alongside the album cover of what appeared to be some sort of candyland. That explained why the song sounded like audio tutti frutti.
“Oh hey it’s this one! The netball team was blasting it all week.”
Jaime joined in the singing with his own gibberish version of the lyrics. I rolled my eyes and popped a piece of gum into my mouth and stared out the window. Lost in the passing trees, my mind drifted back to the training room and the blonde beauty that reigned over it.
Isabela Patterson. A mystery, if there ever was one.
Imagine your typical teen movie queen of the school: A blonde haired, blue-green eyed beauty who everyone adored despite her bitchy temperament. She shuns anyone who is beneath her and uses anyone of minute value to do her bidding. She has the jock wrapped around her finger and gets away with pretty much everything thanks to Daddy’s money.
Now take that image and throw it away.
Because Isabela was anything but a pampered hoe. Yes she had the beauty, but definitely none of the attitude. When I say Isabela is like royalty, I mean it.
She commands the respect of the student body like a queen to her subjects. She always gives help where it is needed, befriends anyone she can and stands up for those who are undercut. She takes no bullshit, which is what I like most about her. Any bullshittery is met with a witty remark and a commonsensical beatdown. She could whoop your ass and you would be begging for mercy which she would undoubtedly give, unless you crossed too many lines.
She leaves me speechless, and the idea that such an ethereal being had not too long ago watched me flail my arms around in an empty room made me sink lower into the front seat.
She holds her head high and faces everything with a smirk or a smile, depending on her mood. She was overall someone I admired from afar, and wished that our first meeting did not sting my already cracked self-confidence.
The music turned off and I realised we had parked outside the diner. I got out of the car and followed the two into palais des crêpes. Cute name, not so cute manager, but he was a really nice guy nonetheless.
We sat in our usual booths and ordered our usual foods and talked about our usual topics: Pam’s crush of the week, Jaime’s inability to get a girlfriend and my lack of interest in romantic endeavors.
“Oh come Dite. What about that cute guy from bio? Edward..Eric..”
“Erin? Nah, he’s got a superiority complex under all that ‘humility’”, I motioned my fingers in air-quotations for emphasis as Jaime let out a snort.
“I’ll say. The guy’s got his fingers in 8 different pies and he’s still complaining about not having enough.”
“Ew! Jaime we’re eating.”
“Hope he doesn’t get sick from the sugar overload.”
The three of us sniggered, imagining the chaos that would erupt if any of those girls ever found out about his wandering interests.
“Look who’s talking about sweet, sugar.”
My face went dark as I heard the jarring voice behind my ear. It was a voice I had come to recognise over the years. Different mouths opened but the same voice came out. And I hated it.
“Don’t ignore me, sweetness. You look like a real treat. So what ya say? Try on a bloke like me?”
I rolled my eyes and continued eating my very lovely pancakes. I could feel Pam’s glare directed over my shoulder while Jaime’s knuckles became ghost white.
“The lady’s not interested.” Jaime hissed. The fork in his hand started to vibrate ever so slightly that if you were not looking for it, you would miss it.
“Is he with you sugar? I sure hope not.”
I continued to eat my pancakes, my face disinterested and calm though my heartbeat said otherwise.
“Get lost you horny asswipe.” said Pam. It was scary when her ‘everything nice’ disappeared.
“What the fuck did you say to me bitch?”
I finally looked up from my pancakes to see Mr Asswipe take a step toward her, his cronies standing at attention behind him.
But Jaime stood up, towering over him like a gorilla. He dropped his fork somewhere along the way and you could see his fist shaking in anger so fast it was blurring.
“You touch either one of them and you die dickhead.”
“Oh yeah? Who the fuck you think you are dipshit? Gonna call mommy on me?”
“Guys please.” I pleaded, already feeling the stares of the other diners on us. Ugh, just what I needed. More attention.
“Don’t worry Sweetness, I’ll get rid of this fag for you real quick.” Horny Asswipe winked at me with a ridiculous smirk that made him more of a slimeball.
The vibration travelled up Jaime’s arm as he snarled.
“That’s it–”
“Stop.”
I stared at the boys as my Seduction flooded the air. It was as if the whole diner was frozen in time, not a muscle moved but my own. Like statues, Jaime’s quivering fist held Asswipe’s shirt, his own fist centimeters away from Jaime’s brow. His cronies paused mid-step, their faces contorted in confusion. The other diners, even the staff were stilled, not a cough or a clink to be heard. Just silence. Just me, alone in a freeze frame.
There was a fire in my eyes, one fueled by anger. I was tired of all the unnecessary drama that came with my life. Every fucking day would involve someone stirring shit up about me or my friends and I was sick of it. I have been sick of it for a very long time but there was nothing I could do to change it and it pissed me off. Just like I was now.
“Jaime, sit down please.”
He promptly sat down, though his hand continued to shake.
“And you. You and your little gang will stay the hell away from my friends and I, and you will never harass anyone else again.”
His face was split between confusion and detest, but he signalled for his cronies to retreat out of the diner, but not without uttering a few tasteful words about our mothers and genitalia.
“Wasn’t he just a gentleman,” said Pam. She looked like she swallowed a bug as she watched Mr Horny Asswipe drive away.
“He was a dick.” murmured Jaime, slightly put out that he could not throw that well deserved punch.
“Jaime.” I warned.
“What? He was!”, though in his protest he looked a little sheepish.
Jaime reached for his absent fork and pouted, reluctantly getting out of his seat once again to retrieve a new one.
Pam looked at me with one of her looks, the kind that made my heart ache with how much emotion she could both feel and display, the kind that made me feel guilty for unwantingly giving her so much emotional distress that her empathy absorbs like a sponge.
Once again I found my pancakes exceptionally interesting as I poured the last of my syrup over the remaining pieces, blatantly avoiding her soft piercing gaze. Jaime returned and we ate in silence. We always did after an ‘episode’. It happened more than I could ever want, and after the 5th time they ran out of comments. So we would stay silent, until the meal was over, then we would press play and resume whatever conversation we were having before.
And I’m thankful for those silent moments, because I could depend on the fact that no matter the situation I would be sitting with these two souls, just staying by me, keeping me company. I rarely voice out my affections. I can only hope that in my actions they realise how important they are to me, and how much their presence means to me. That is more than I could ever ask for in a world of temporaries – stability, in the knowledge deep down that, despite my irrational fears and uncertainties, when I look up from my pancakes they will be right across from me, eating theirs. And I vowed, a long time ago, to do nothing less but the same for them too.