Chapter 7 [The Siren]
In the nightmare that is mathematics, I found myself sitting one row back and one to the left of Miss Isabela Patterson. I was slightly jealous of how she seemed to understand the greek that was on the whiteboard. All the Alphas and Betas and XYZs were floating around in an uncoordinated dance that mocked my mathematical incompetence.
Stupid algebra. Stupid x having an identity crisis.
I fixed my wandering gaze back on to the whiteboard, only to have it drawn back to the golden halo that radiated in the harsh classroom light.
It was not the first time I had my attention stolen by the fair-haired beauty. Since I came to this dreaded school three years ago I had become somewhat enamored by her. Not only was she arguably the most beautiful person in school, but she was unfairly attractive in personality.
It was rare to come across someone so versatile in their behaviour, being both dame and warrior, angel and crude bitch. It was almost mesmerising, to watch her walk around as if she had a crown on her head, not a flashy gold extravaganza, but a sturdy silver circlet that represented her regality, her poise, her kindness and elegance.
In our limited interactions I had come to form a version of her in my mind. Creepy, I know. But I couldn't help creating this regal figure that I made her to be. My impressions of her could be so wrong, yet I did it anyway, giving myself something to place my hopes upon. A fantasy that was so out of reach that it could not hurt me. I only hoped that if the smallest of possibilities I would acquaint myself with her, that I would find that I was not wrong, and that regardless of any flaw she may possess, at the root she was the queen I pinned her to be.
I must have frowned at this thought because Mrs Pine looked at me and chimed,
“Any questions my dear?”
I blushed and shook my head, not bothering to seek help for something I had no grasp on in the first place. Honestly, mathematicians have an infinity of numbers, why include the bloody alphabet?
Thankfully the bell rang and like any other sane person I packed up my belongings and left the room with no time to spare. And it seemed like fate hated me that day.
“Hey Leila!”
Oh no. No no no not again. I don’t have the mental capacity to–
“You walk fast for a shorty.” I was met with blonde hair and a dazzling smile two inches above mine.
I gave Isabela a quick smile and shrug as the little people controlling my brain ran around in a panic, red alarms blaring in the background.
“I saw you glaring at the whiteboard. Calculus not your thing, huh?”
I snorted and my eyes widened. A snort? Really? How fucking unattractive is that?
But to my surprise she didn’t scrunch her nose in disgust, but laughed a small chuckle. I could not help but relax a little at that laugh, feeling a small smile of my own form on my face.
“Very not my thing.”
“Well, it took me a while too but eventually you realise that everything can be answered by the same formula, you just need to know how to use it.”
I raised an eyebrow at her.
“And you think that’s easy? I can’t even understand the bloody questions, let alone the formulas.”
“It takes practice. Lots of practice. But you’ll get it eventually.” she said with a smile - her charming smile that made me walk a little lighter.
“Well ‘x’ can take its identity crisis and shove it up its arse.”
She laughed properly this time, loud and booming like a boat horn. Yet I could not resist but laugh along with her, ignoring the strange looks from everyone around us. But then again, I was used to ignoring looks.
“Oh my god I’ve got to tell Peter that one.”
Right. Peter.
Rumour has it that Peter Lincoln was the King to her Queenship. Said rumour started after their little popular circle had a small falling out after Peter and Isabela spent nearly the whole summer together in a secret summer camp. Since then, the two of them were rarely spotted without the other, though no PDA was ever witnessed.
I, for one, don’t believe it. I could be wrong, but I don’t really want to be. Nevertheless the two were inseparable.
Speaking of which…
“Bela! Got to go. Alberfeine.” Said Peter with urgency.
The principal? I wonder what sort of prize he has for them since it was unlikely that the school’s golden duo would be in any sort of trouble.
“Right.” She turned to me, an apologetic look on her face.
As she was whisked away by his highness, she called out, “Text me?”
“What?”
“Your phone!”
Again. What?
But she was lost in the sea of students, blonde halo lost in the crowd. I stood there for a while, processing everything that happened.
First, she comes up to me, out of the blue, and has a conversation with me as if we were friends (were we even acquaintances?). Then she laughs at my dumb comment and tells me to text her. Then she says something about my phone. I mean, I’m no genius but I’m pretty sure texting involves the mobile phone.
Great, now I am standing here like a dumbass staring at the air.
I snapped out of my trance and walked towards the dining hall, mulling to figure out what the hell was going on.
“EEEP!”
“Pam shut up! I don’t need gawkers!” I hissed.
We were standing in the lunch line, waiting to get our wonton noodles.
“But it’s so cute that she just came up to talk to you! No prompting!”
“It’s not cute, Pam. It’s confusing.”
“No it’s not.”
“No what’s not?” Jaime asked as he joined us at the back of the queue.
“Dite’s crush–”
“PAM!”
“Hush. A certain blondie talked to our Dite today. Out of the blue. A real conversation. With. Laughing.” Pam's eyes were shining. She would probably need jaw replacement surgery if she smiled any wider.
Jaime looked at me, both confused and amused by Pam’s excitement.
“Oh you are hopeless. And you!” Pam pointed at me, “are in denial.”
“It’s not denial if there’s nothing to deny.” I said as I grabbed my bowl.
We made our way to an empty table and plopped our things down. I reached for my chopsticks only to have it rudely taken away by the rampaging woman.
“You should know as well as anyone what this could mean, chica.”
Pam waved my chopsticks at me, giving me her notorious eye. That look meant red flags and Jaime-please-help-me-no-dont-run-away.
“She li–”
I snatched back my chopsticks. “No, stop. Don’t do that.”
Pam smiled and reached for her own chopsticks, Jaime already stuffing his food in his mouth as he watched, bemused, at our exchange.
“You know I’m right. You just wait and see. Just wait. And. See.” She flicked her chopsticks with each word for emphasis, the annoying sickly sweet smile never leaving her face as she sipped her soup very loudly. Also for emphasis.
I rolled my eyes and dug into my own lunch, but not without a small blush on my face as the little spark of hope wiggled its way into my mind.
“So are you gonna text her?” asked Jaime from his position on the floor, his fingers lightly plucking his guitar.
We were currently in our room, chilling out before dinner. I was sitting on her bed with her feet resting on my lap as she played with my phone like a 5-year-old.
“That’s the thing. She just yelled ‘Your phone!’ as if it answered my confusion. I don’t even have her number.”
“You’re sure about that?”
Pam thrusted my phone an inch from my eye and I jerked back to save myself from going blind. I pursed my lips at her as I snatched my phone, looking at what seemed to be my contacts list. And lo and behold, ‘Isabela Patterson’ was staring back at me with a little duck emoji by her name.
“But I never...oh. Oh….okay. Uh, y'all don’t kill me.”
Pam shot up from my lap as Jaime raised his eyebrow. Again.
“Why…?” Asked Pam, her eyes practically glittering with excitement. Oh boy.
“So I may or may not have overshot my time in the training room and she may or may not have caught me there and she may or may not have handed me back my phone when I almost left it in there?”
I braced myself for the slew of Pam Attacks that were going to happen in 3, 2– WHACK.
Ow. Those sequin pillows are scratchy.
“YOU TALKED TO HER BEFORE?? AND YOU DIDN’T THINK TO MENTION IT?? TO ME??”
She whacked me with her disco pillow again as Jaime laughed at my suffering. What a great pal.
“I didn’t think it was important.”
“NOT IMPORTANT?? SHE GAVE YOU HER NUMBER!!”
“Well I didn’t know that!”
Pam whacked me one more time with the pillow, then started to smile.
Oh no.
“Oh no. I do not like that face Pam, put it away.”
The smile got wider as she let out a small giggle.
“Pam…” I warned, feeling my cheeks get hot for the third time today.
She let out a giggling frenzy and did a little wiggle on the bed. I tried to hide my smile that formed at her excitement, biting the insides of my cheeks as I tried to keep my face neutral. Jaime on the other hand had sat up from his position on the floor, accompanying her giggles with a chuckle.
Eventually Pam’s hysteria died down, leaving behind the widest shit-eating grin known to mankind. She sat up from her stuffed toy fortress where she had fallen over in her giggle fit and stared at me, the smile never leaving her face.
“Just you wait, Leila Jones. Just you wait.”
I was really starting to hate that phrase.
Nonetheless I threw her sparkly weapon at her face as she collapsed into another round of giggling. I looked at Jaime who just shrugged and flashed me his charming smile. They really were tweedle dum and dee. I rolled my eyes and layed down on the bed, looking once more at the new contact I had. Ducks, huh? Who would have guessed?
I hovered over the text button, having a mental debate with myself on whether my thumb should touch the screen. But in a surge of courage fuelled by giggle mirth and best friend nonsense, I pushed the button.
“So ducks, huh?”