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"Filip!" she called out, unable to restrain her own happiness. She had only been on a first name basis with him for a week, and already he was the best part of her day, nearly everyday. He had really come through for her, the day after her unrestrained crying-fest. He had shown up at the park, but instead of his trusty comic book in hand, he had a chemistry exam.
Since then, for at least an hour, everyday, they poured over the test, reading and rereading each and every question, and constructing an acceptable answer. More accurately, she dissected the test, while he slacked off and tried to distract her. To be completely honest, his attempts worked more often than she wanted to admit.
Due to his constant attempts and her frequent allowances, she had been nervous to take this exam. Yes, she already had a copy of the test, but what if the teacher changed it? What if he used a different test? What if she didn't remember what she had studied and prepared? After her father's reaction to her previous failed test, she just had to do well on this one. She could perfectly recall the shade of red his face had turned, and the bulging vein in his forehead. She had managed to talk him down, to assure him that it was just the first test and she would do better, but it was not something she was eager to experience again.
Her worry was all for naught, as she quickly found out when she got her test back with a big B on the top. She had been careful to not get a perfect score, knowing that it would be highly suspicious, but it had thrilled her to realize that Filip had been right; the tests were exactly the same.
She had rushed out of school, her smile wide, and made a beeline for the park. She was excited; excited to see Filip and tell him of her success and just thank him for making it possible. She had come a long way in the week that she had known him, from an F all the way to a B, and yes, it was because of cheating, but she didn't give a damn. When she told him her grade, she knew that he would grin, and to Fiona, that would be worth every second of pouring over a stolen test.
When she arrived, the park was empty, but that didn't mean much to Fiona. Her school was closer, and that meant that she usually arrived before he did. She didn't mind; as it gave her a chance for a go on the swings, which were most definitely her second favorite thing about the park. She loved the rush she got from swinging deliriously high and not having anybody tell her to stop or to slow down like her Nanny had done when she was a child. It was very strange, but nothing made her feel more grown up than swinging as high as she wanted on a swing at a park. Well, nothing except the semi-secret meetings with a boy she was quickly developing an insane crush on.
She hopped off the swing and made her way towards the tree watching as he did the same, eager to share her news. This had become their habit; she would swing until he arrived, and then she would join him under the tree, where they would sit side by side until it was time for her to leave. Each day, they found themselves making excuses to stay longer and longer. Sometimes, Fiona would suddenly need help reading the handwriting on the test, of Filip would become a remarkably slow reader and his comic would take ages to end. Fiona wondered what she would tell her father today when he asked why she was home late.
As Fiona approached their tree, test clutched in her hand, the excitement bubbled up in her chest. She was so thrilled about her grade, and she knew he would be, too.
"Hey! I've been waiting for you! You'll never guess-" she started, before cutting herself off quite suddenly. Her mouth dropped open at the very sight of him. Not much was different; same unkempt school uniform, completely with shirt untucked and discarded tie hanging from his pocket. Same messy, gorgeous hair. Same casual, easygoing smile. The only thing different was the black eye he sported, as well as the drops of dried blood on his shirt collar. "What happened to you?"
"Hey," he replied, shaking his head. "I'm fine."
"Really?" she asked skeptically. "Because your face says otherwise."
He grinned and shrugged. "Well, you should see the other guy."
She glanced down at his hands. She thought that he had beautiful hands, though she would gladly keep those thoughts to herself. There were bruises and scrapes decorating his knuckles, and she had seen enough in her life to know that whoever he had been scraping with was probably in much worse shape. He had always been so incredibly kind and gentle and relaxed around her, and she had never suspected him to be a fighter. The fact that he was sent a wicked thrill through her, one that she would never speak of.
"Filip," she started, trying to keep her voice steady. "Are you sure-"
He laid a hand on her shoulder, which stopped her words instantly. He ducked down a bit, so they were eye level. "I am sure. I'm fine, Fi. Don't worry yourself over it. Please."
She wanted to ask him what happened, wanted to know who he had fought with, but there was a tone evident in his voice that told her not to push it. While she was curious and concerned, she didn't want to be seen as a nag. He seemed eager to let the subject drop, so she allowed it to. Unfortunately, she wasn't sue what to say, her eagerness to share her test gone with the sight of his black eye. Instead Fiona turned away and went to sit against the tree, Filip following suit.
They were quiet for a moment, lost in their own separate thoughts. She was worried about him. He was tall and well built, and she didn't doubt that he could handle himself, but he hadn't grown up around Belfast like she had. Fiona wondered if he knew that there were some people who he shouldn't smart off to; wondered if he was aware that a scuffle with the wrong person could leave a teenage boy dead in a ditch. She was so wrapped up in these horrifying scenarios that she almost didn't hear him speak again.
"That your test, then?" he asked, gesturing to the papers now crumpled in her hands. Her own worry had worried the paper, and now it was a bit of a mess. She didn't much care; her father could still hang it on the fridge if he wanted to.
"Oh, aye, it is," she muttered, blushing at how easily she had been distracted from her test success.
"Well, let's see it then," he demanded, nudging her with his shoulder. "Can't be any worse than last time."
She bit down a smirk at his assumption that she was upset over her test, rather than worried over him. "Take a look then."
He grabbed the test, surprise lighting up his face. He poured over it, never losing the smile on his face. It didn't take him long to go through all three pages of the exam, and soon he let it drop from his hands.
"Wow, Fi," he grinned at her. "You cheat like you've been doing it your whole life!"
"Don't I?" she let the smirk shine through now. "And how do you know I haven't?"
"Just a good guess," he admitted. "You're a good girl. Good girls don't cheat."
She ignored his comment about her being a good girl. If she knew some of the thoughts that had crossed her mind about him, he likely wouldn't be so quick to describe her as good. "Do you like how I didn't score perfect, as not to rouse suspicion?"
"That was a genius touch," he nodded. "I couldn't be any more proud."
She laughed outright, the thought of hiding her laughter never even occurred to her. There was a time not long ago when he had heard her laugh and that had caused her to panic. She was glad that she had moved past that rather quickly. She had laughed with him more often than she had with her family, and she would never be able to tell him how thankful she was for that fact.
"Did you bring the next one?" she asked, looking up at him, basking in the warmth of his happiness. "I am going to need to 'study' even harder if I want to do better the next time."
"Course," he assured her, pulling the twice folded test from his pocket. She noted that he hadn't even bothered with subtlety, this time just flat out writing the curse words in response to essay questions, instead of spelling them out on the test grid. Unlike her, his test scores had not gone up. She wondered for a moment if there was anybody who would yell at him because of it.
"Filip?" she questioned, hesitantly. "Can I ask you something?"
"Think you just did," he remarked, removing his latest comic from his backpack, before shrugging and glancing over at her. "Ask away."
"Why don't you pass these tests?" she wondered. "You're smart. Really smart. You read like crazy-"
He rolled his eyes, "Comic books aren't chemistry."
"Doesn't matter," Fiona insisted. "You read it and you can repeat it back word for word if you wanted to. And you do the same thing with my tests. You read all of the answers, and you know whether I am right or wrong."
"So you think I could pass chemistry based on the fact that I can read?" he asked, eyebrow raised.
"Filip," she shook her head. "I know you could do better bas on the fact that I know you, even if it has only been a week. You...you are so great, and you are so smart. And you could do so, so much if you tried."
He sighed and looked away. "Fiona. Why do you care about passing these tests?"
His question confused her; he already knew the answer. "I told you, because my Da will kill me if I don't."
"Right," he confirmed. "Because your Da...he wants you to do well and be successful. Know what my da wants? To be as far away from me as possible. That's why he's back in Scotland. My Ma has too much to worry about with keeping a roof over heads and food in our stomachs. She doesn't pay thousands of pounds for me to go to a school like yours. She doesn't care what grades I get. She knows I will turn out just like my father. Trust me, Fiona. Nobody is going to kill me because I am not passing these tests. Nobody gives a shit."
"I do," she murmured.
"What?" he asked, absolutely certain that he hadn't heard her right.
"I care," she told him, daring herself to reveal more than she knew was wise, but she didn't care. "You're my friend, Filip. I care about you, and I know you could do better."
He locked eyes on hers, and she realized that her words meant something to him. They weren't speaking, but that was okay. They shared something, and she couldn't tell exactly what it was, but it meant more to her than most things in her world.
"I got in a fight," he spoke suddenly, surprising her. "Because some guy, some stupid arsehole who's name I don't even know….he said your name. He talked about you like he had the right to, and it pissed me right off. I don't know why I hit him, and I couldn't make myself stop."
"Filip," she breathed, not knowing what to think. He had hit somebody, pretty hard from the looks of it, for simply speaking of her. There was definitely something wrong with her, but it was the nicest thing anybody outside her own family had ever done for her. Now, it was her turn to lay a hand on his shoulder. "Alot of people talk about me. You can't hit them all."
He grinned at her. "I sure as hell can try."
She felt like a lunatic, but she couldn't help but giggle. The thought of him punching every person who had ever been mean to her was too much to even manage. She tried to take a deep breath and calm herself, but it didn't work. The laughter spilled out of her, and she couldn't control it. He looked at her for a moment, trying to decide if she was crazy or not, but eventually, his laughter joined hers, and they were two idiots, sitting in a park, laughing at the ridiculous, and neither of them wanted to be anywhere else.