Once my head rose from my pillow this morning I knew it was going to be a special day, and now I just have to figure out why. I really don't see how though, how could anything be different for Jillian Almint?
I look up from my phone for just enough time to get on the old rusted yellow school bus that stands in front of me. I walk in slowly and take my usual seat in the middle near the emergency exit door. The seat glides down as I sit on it and throw my bag besides me. I pull out my earbuds and a tingling feeling arises in my stomach. Maybe I shouldn't completely zone out from the world today. Just maybe something will happen. The bus is packed full, I'm the last one to get on. Each seat holds two people except mine. Seniors have privileges here, especially when people don't want to sit with you in the first place. Although I am the last one on, I still have a forty minute drive to my packed, awful high school in the middle of nowhere. The people on my bus just happen to live at the edge of our huge town, meaning we have the longest commute to everything. School, shopping, food, dances, proms. But good thing for me that I don't go to any proms or dances anyways. I lay down on my bag and put my phone above my head as I scroll through my never-ending pinterest feed. It's full of feminist, animal, food, and relationship pins. Most of which I will never use, own, eat, or do, but it lets my imagination wander into the darkest corners of my brain and the universe. I hear the engine let out a puff as the bus comes to a stop, sending me forward into the seat in front of me. The doors begin to open and I hear people talking nervously outside. Crap, now I have a seatmate, great.
I watch as an unfamiliar face arises from the stairs. His hair is cut short and very fine, his jawline is cut at a perfect angle, and his brown eyes shine like an eye color I've never seen before. His teared backpack hangs from his right shoulder. He has on a dark blue shirt, black jeans, and a thin silver necklace. As he walks down the aisles looking for an empty seat he bites his bottom lip nervously. Everyone around me looks up and then back down after assessing him, but not me. My eyes are glued to him and I can't stop running my eyes up and down him. As soon as he sees my see he opens his mouth quickly. I move over and place my bag on to of my lap.
"Is this seat taken?" he says in the finest British accent I've ever heard.
"No, it's all yours if you'd like." My voice comes out light and nervous, but he doesn't seem to mind. He gently sits down next to me and puts his bag at his feet and, for the first time all year, I put my phone back into my bag.
"I'm Tom, Holland. Not like a place, Tom Holland. Holland is my last name. I'm just Tom." he looks down nervously, giggles under his breath, and bites his lip again. "Sorry, so sorry, just first day jitters that's all. I don't really know anyone and I'm not very good at making friends."
"I can tell," I laugh with him but he's still looking down at his lap. "I'm Jillian Almint. I bet you'll do fine making friends, you've just got to get into the right group."
"Ah you must not know me then, because I only had one semi-friend in my old school which held one thousand students." he stops giggling and his face becomes flushed. "Well what group are you in Miss Jillian?" he finally looks up at my face.
"None, I'm just like you except my semi-friend is a best friend. She's Anja Hariss, but she moved away last year. We still video chat though, but it's become distant."
"Well I'm sorry for that then." he seems out of place in this moment.
"Can I see your schedule?" I ask. Before he can even answer he's pulling out a slip of white paper from his bag. "Hmm, we have all of the same classes together except for your french class, I take spanish."
"Well that's just lovely, isn't it then?" he says as his ear to ear grin returns.
"How about I show you around today?" I ask.
"That'd be lovely, maybe we can start our own group now. No more semi-distant-sad excuses for friends. Now we each have something real. Let's see how far this group can go."
"That'd be lovely." I say in my best accent and we both bend over laughing.
As soon as we pull up to the school building I watch Tom's face fall into the darkness of fear. "Don't worry, it's just school. No one cares about anyone who's not in their group. It's just how it is here at O'Rourke." I say, but his face is still nearly colorless. "Hey, don't worry. I'll be with you the whole day." He slowly nods and stand up. We move out of the bus like a river and into the overflowing entranceway. The school is a light tan color and a good size. "Our class is full of about five hundred people." I say as we walk towards the doors. "Let me break it down for you. Two hundred of then are jocks, another two hundred are dicks and idiots, fifty people are nerd and actually smart, and we fall under the unnoticed category."
"So are we jocks, idiots, dicks, or nerds?" He says in a meaningly humorous tone but his nervousness makes it come out as serious.
"We are half nerds and half ghosts." I say as I look up at him. He's probably five inches taller than me, which is all I want anyways, I'm 5'3". As the glass doors allow us to pass through I see his tense up even more, his good sized muscles nearly bulging out from his short sleeved tee. "Calm down, we're okay." I lead him up the stairs and over to DeLiko's room, our homeroom. "Go talk to Mr DeLiko, he'll give you a locker."
"Oh, I've already got one, I came in last weekend to catch up with all of the teachers and get settled. I'm number 318"
"Hey, just two down from me! I'm 316. Ironic." he laughs and we both walk over to our lockers. I put in my combination, 3-9-31, and throw my backpack inside. I grab my stack of books and my computer out of it and put them into a large handbag. Tom walks over to me and leans up against locker 317, his bag of books in his right hand. "You look ready for history." I say.
"It's my favorite, math is my least though, sad you have that class in America." he says which makes me realize that he's moved here from London.
"English is my favorite, and sorry to say but history is my least."
"Huh," he says looking hurt, "I've been betrayed. I thought we could be the history group, but I guess we're back to square one on a name." I laugh and lead him down the hallway.
"So this is Mr Temoro's room," I say nodding to the doorway ahead of us, "he's really old and can't hear that well so bear with him during class." We enter the doorway and I rush to the window to take my seat.
"Ah, perfect. Seats in groups of two. Assuming what you said on the bus about you having no friends is true, I'm going to sit down right here." He sits down into the chair right besides me. It's almost like an effortless movement, him sitting. It's as though there is no such thing as gravity. "Jill? Is it okay if I call you Jill? It suits you."
"Yeah," I say breaking my ogling gaze quickly, "Jill is fine." I say. I slide my books into my desk quickly as the Mr Temoro walks inside. He is a short, hunched, white haired, wrinkle filled old man.
"Okay class," his voice comes out as a barely loud enough croak, "let's begin."
"This is brutal already." Tom says pulling out a pencil. He begins doodling on the edge of my desk.
"Today we are continuing our advanced unit on World War Two. Every pair grab a textbook and read on from page 51 until the end of class."
I stand up and walk over to the back wall near the swarm of others. I pick up a large textbook with a faded yellow cover sheet reading World War Two: Hidden Depths. I go back over to my seat and watch Tom pull my chair out for me. "What was that for?" I ask, sitting down cautiously.
"Well we might as well have a good bond if our relationship continues to advance at the rate we're going." He says, lifting his eyebrows.
"What are you implying?"
"Nothing, nothing. Just saying that we've been acting like we've known each other for years when it's only been like an hour."
"Is that a bad thing?" I say laughing.
"No, it's actually quite nice to be honest." He looks down at his lap and bites his bottom lip swiftly. As his jaw unclenches he looks back up at me, "Let's read!"
"Okay then." We look into each other's eyes, as if deciphering every last cell of them. Chuckles emerge from under our breath and he grabs the book from my hands.
"Come on," he stops to catch his breath but his never ending smile still exists, "we've got to earn some knowledge on World War Two now, don't we?"
It feels like we've been reading for hours at this point, and everyone around us visibly seems the same. People have fallen asleep and are laying around the room, paying attention to nothing. Even Mr Temoro is nearly asleep. My eyelids feel like weights as I listen to the sound of Tom's voice reading the pages in front of us. And, without my consent, my body groggily lets it's head fall down onto Tom's shoulder. As soon as we make contact I feel him tense up and hear him pause the reading. After a second to adjust he continues on with the page, but this time his voice is sweeter, as if he were reading to a child, cautious of every word his tongue forms. My hands fall off of the desk and into my lap. Tom stops for another moment, his breath quickens. I feel his right hand reach for my left, and I let him take it. He brings both hands onto his leg and begins reading again. I hear his words slow down and eventually he just stops. He leans his head onto mine and rubs his thumb against the outside of my palm. Time freezes, caught in this moment. All of my body is numb, but the parts making contact with him are lit up with feeling. A sharp noise suddenly fills my ears. People around me slowly stand up and gather their things.
"Have a nice day." Mr Temoro croaks.
"Come on," Tom says gathering himself, "time for Language."
It's seeming to last for days, this class of mine. Why couldn't I've taken french? But history, history was something. My mind wanders away from the talking in front of me. I can't believe it, we touched, intimately. God, how is it possible to fall for someone you've just met? But it doesn't feel like that with Tom, it feels different. Like I've known him for years. It's like we have an unbreakable, three hour connection.
"Jillian, ¿sigues con nosotros?" Mr Dinkle is looking straight at me, tipping his glasses down off the bridge of his long nose.
"Si, lo siento Señor."
"Continuo," he begins, but I we are saved by the bell.
"No importa, adiós clase." his irritated voice makes everyone stand up, but I am already nearly half way out the door. I walk into the hallway as it becomes even more crowded. I spot him from down the hall and walk casually over.
"How was French?" I ask as we meet.
"Fine, they all hated my accent though."
"Well they have poor taste, because it is lovely." we both laugh as I lead him down the hallway.
"What class are we heading to now?" He asks, looking into my eyes with a mesmerizing gaze.
"Now," I say, "we eat." I lead him into a large, cold room fully packed with people of all grades. I watch as a small freshman with braided hair drops her tray on the floor, and her face becomes a deep shade of red. I walk over to my usual table in the corner and sit down at it. It is a small circular one that holds eight people, but only two ever fill it. Another school forgotten, Ludovica, sits straight across from me. I see her already there with her wavy orange hair and sweats on. We used to talk but not anymore, so I don't say anything.
"Hello. Lovely to meet you!" Tom says waving at her. She glares up at him from her book and looks back down.
"She doesn't really like new people, or any people. Her type is more fictional characters." I whisper to him.
"I see." He says and nods, biting his lip to contain his laugh. "Where should we go for lunch?"
"Just head over the the buffet over there, everyone in the school gets free lunch buffets." I say, pointing to the line of people.
"Aren't you coming with me?" He says as he stands up.
"No, I'm not all that hungry. And besides, their vegetarian options are very limited here." I say looking up at him.
"Ah, I'll grab you some fruit." He says.
"No, Tom, there's no need." I say, but it's pointless as he's walking away.
I flip through my mound of books on the table and look for my phone. I pull it out and text a number I haven't used in forever. Katrina's. Hey, I know it's been awhile and I'm really sorry for that. Just wondering if you were having as hard of a time making friends as I am at your new school. Jill. I hit the send button and briefly close my eyes, reminiscing in all of the good times. I hear footsteps from behind me getting closer and I snap back into reality. Tom pulls into the seat besides me and places a table with all different foods in front of us. There is a huge bowl of kraft mac and cheese along with some other things. In the corner of the plate there is a perfect cup of fruit on top of a napkin with a fork next to it.
"Hungry much?" I say laughing.
"Well first of all, new country means new food. I don't know what I'll like so today is my testing day."
"Understood, understood. One question though, what's with the giant bowl of mac and cheese?"
"Oh, it's kraft brand correct?" I nod. "Kraft is like bloody hard to find back in London, me and my mates would've killed even for a saucer full of it. It's one of the most brilliant edible things ever invented, besides tea of course."
"That was literally the most British paragraph anyone could've ever said." I say laughing with him. "Come on, you've better get to eating. Lunch ends in like five minutes."
"Okay, okay! I'll just take the mac and cheese to go then." I watch him take a sip of his root beer. He lowers it from his scowling face. "God, that's fucking disgusting. How do you people drink that stuff?" I laugh at him as he takes a sip of water. "Ugh, never drinking that again! Wait, Jill, you never ate your fruit cup!"
"Sorry, I forgot about it. Maybe tomorrow." I say just as the bell rings. He picks up his tray and begins walking away. He makes it maybe a yard from the table before looking back at me. "Near the end of the line." I say and he nods. He dumps his tray and places it on the rack, then walks back over to me.
"To math!" He says.
Once we make it to Mrs Swellem's room, most of the seats are already taken. We sit down at a pair of desks near the back of the classroom and in the middle of the room.
"Hello class," Mrs S says before we can even get situated. I reach into my desk for my pencil case, and my elbow hits Tom's side.
"I'm so sorry!" I say placing my hand on the side of his shirt.
"Jillian, it's fine." He says with a chuckle. He reaches up for my hand and takes it in his. He brings it up to his mouth and kisses the back of my hand. His lips feel like butterflies on my bare skin, and my stomach starts to twirl. Our fingers tangle in each other's and we let the mess of phalanges hang in between our chairs.
I barely learn anything by the time the bell rings, the only words I can think of are Tom, and hands, and kiss. We unclasp hands and begin to gather our books.
"Class, wait," Mrs S says. "Your assignment is to finish the blue packet by next Monday. Have a nice afternoon!" I pick up all of my books and walk to my locker with Tom by my side. I twist in my combination and throw my books inside of my locker. I grab my backpack out and sling it around my shoulder. I slam the metal door shut and turn to face Tom, standing with one hand leaned up against the lockers.
"So, where to now?" he says.
"The bus." he follows me down to the bus stop and we resume our seats from this morning. I yawn and cover my face up with my hand, but Tom looks straight at me.
"Sorry, I have the most obnoxious face while yawning."
"Nothing to be sorry about, yawning is a natural function. Here," he says moving his bag to the floor, "rest on my shoulder if you're tired."
"As awkward as that invitation was," I say laughing with him, "I'm going to have to accept. I'm nearly dead by now." I lean over and rest my head onto his shoulder, desperately hoping I'm doing it right. He turns towards me and kisses the side of my head lightly. I reach out for his hand and he takes it eagerly. I feel him slowly lean his head into mine. This is what perfection feels like. How did this happen, we have to be soul mates. There's no way we could've been this lucky, and quick, in finding each other. I know he's thinking the same thing too. I look out the window being careful not to move my head, and see we are close to my house.
"I'm going to have to leave soon, you know." I say in a whisper.
"Yeah, I know. Enjoy the moment while it lasts."
"I can't believe spring break is starting already, I don't know if I can survive without school now that I have someone to look forward to." I say, giddy with confidence.
"Well," Tom says handing me a slip of paper from his pocket, "here is my number. Let's do something during it. Or every day."
"Every day works for me." I say smiling. I hear the familiar sound of more energy as the bus climbs the hill, and know I'm getting close. "See you tomorrow." I say. I turn my head and kiss his cheek lightly.
"Cheerio." he says as he lets me escape from his grasp. I stand up and begin walking toward the bus door. I nod to the driver and step down from the machine. I begin walking towards my house but turn around just in time to watch the yellow speck of a bus fade out into the distance.