It's actually Sunday evening that Lucy sees him again. She's walking home from the Diner, through the suburb of Willow Bank, in the half - dark, satchel over one shoulder, umbrella up, when the sound of something metal being dropped, and a man cursing, makes her look up.
It's him, obviously, because who else would it be? He's in one of the driveways next to her, under the cover of the raised garage door, flat on his back underneath his motorbike, illuminated by the warm glow of the inside light.
Briefly, she contemplates calling out for him, but then thinks better of it. Don't tempt fate.
There's a radio behind him, crackling out a popular rock song that she's heard a few times before. He's not wearing his jacket - it's October, not that warm out - and his arms are streaked with grease and oil. His once - white shirt is dirty, and his jeans are dusty.
He's musclier than she realised. Considerably so. His arms are tanned, roped with muscles in an understated way that speaks of practicality not decoration. His chest and stomach are the same; toned, but not too much.
"Hello again"
He's sat up now, leant against the bike with a smirk.
"Hi"
"Fancy seeing you again so soon. You live round here?"
Ha. In her dreams maybe.
Lucy shook her head. "No. Other side of town", she glanced around her briefly, taking in the white picket fences, Colonial style houses, and pruned rose bushes. "Where abouts?", Lockwood stands, placing the spanner on a table covered in spare parts and junk.
She was afraid he was going to ask that. Better get it all out now... "Carter Row"
There's no flash of pity in his eyes, no barely - concealed shock or horror. Just curiosity.
"Is it nice?"
The girl shrugged. "I guess"
He wiped his hands off on his jeans and grinned at her. "Would you like to come in for a snack? Auntie J's just made muffins and they are to die for"
Lucy shook her head, starting to shiver a little in the rain. Although, homemade muffins do sound pretty good right now. Her mom never made anything - she was too tired after work. "Can't, sorry. Mom's expecting me home by seven"
"Oh, well let me give you a ride. I need to test her out anyway", Lockwood picked up his jacket from the floor and slung it over one shoulder. Lucy took a hasty step back, nearly falling off the pavement and into the road, not that it made much difference, considering he hasn't moved towards her.
"Oh, no! It's... uh... I'm... fine walking", she managed, already determining the quickest route away from his dark gaze and into the relative seclusion of her attic bedroom four miles away. "Okay, then. Let me walk you home". "I'm fine, really"
He sighed then, and adjusted the radio antenna, making it crackle loudly. "I know this is a small town, but it's dark, and I'd feel better if you'd let me walk you, at least halfway. Come on, don't trust strange men in the dark and all that"
Lucy raises an eyebrow in a poor imitation of him. "How do I know you're not a strange man?", she retorts. He laughs. "Very true. Well then, if I can't walk you, take a snack. Come on. Consider it payback for that milkshake I didn't pay for"
"It's alright, seriously", Lucy replied, her upbringing telling her that nothing came without a price. She'd take his food, but what would he expect in return?
He paused by the garage door, his face shaded by the glaring light behind him. He hesitates, jaw clenching and unclenching, and for a moment it seems as though he will pursue the issue. Then - "okay. Guess I'll see you tomorrow then?"
Lucy breathes an inward sigh of relief. "Yeah. Um, see you"
She takes off walking quickly, keeping her pace down the road, desperate to be away from this perfect little snapshot of suburbia.
Lucy wills herself not to look back, to keep her eyes on the pavement in front of her and not to fall flat on her face.
She rounds the corner onto the main road, and paused briefly in the glow of a street lamp. She allowed herself just one quick peek - he won't know, after all. And what he doesn't know can't hurt him - and finds him watching her intently from the end of the driveway.
Despite herself, Lucy blushes, and turns away immediately, pretending she hadn't just seen him leant against the gate, arms folded, hair hanging over his forehead, dark eyes following her down the street.
-:-:-:-
"Beaufort?"
"Yes, sir"
"Berkowitz?"
"Yes, sir"
"Carlyle?"
Lucy jerked up from her geography notes and looked at Mr Moreland, her homeroom teacher. He's in his mid forties, short, bird - like, with feathery brown hair and bottle glasses. He's perched on the edge of his desk, like a true academic. "Uh, yes, Sir", she replied, looking back down at her hastily scribbled work. The edges are soaked, and she brushes them out, trying not to tear the soggy paper.
It had drizzled last night, so there were puddles everywhere. It just so happened that, when the usual suspects - preps and jocks, because duh - hounded her up the steps to the hall and tripped her, she and her satchel fell in a pool of cold, murky rainwater.
Her history, maths, and geography notes are salvageable. Her sketchbook is damp at the edges, but okay. English and Spanish are fine - safely tucked into durable Manila folders. Her secondhand science textbooks, the most expensive things in her bag however, are ruined, and her mother isn't exactly going to shell out on new ones. It'll be an extra four shifts to get one. Looks like shes going to have to cancel on her and George's movie night on Saturday.
There's a knock at the door, and she's the only one to notice over the loud chatter of her classmates. The door squeaks open, and a few more people turn to pay attention.
"Hey, is this, uh... Mr Moreland's class?"
Lucy looks, properly looks, and oh, you have got to be kidding me.
"Yes. And you are?", the dusty professor replied shortly. "Anthony Lockwood". Mr Moreland gestures to a the only empty desk, beside Lucy. The Greaser looks at the desk, and then at Lucy, and smiles.
The whole class has fallen silent, everyone's eyes on this tall, dark stranger who's in their homeroom. Every girl in the room is fixed on him, whispering to their friends behind their hands, batting their eyelashes. The boys size him up, taking in his height, his bulk. Lucy looks away and scowls at her soggy geography texts. "Hey, kid"
She looks up, and he's staring down at her. "This seat taken?", he asked, gesturing to the seat beside her, one hand grasping the strap of his rucksack. Lucy shrugs, and looks back down.
"No"
He grins, tosses the bag under the little wooden table, and drops into the chair. It screeches, and Lucy flinches.
Mr Moreland clears his throat and carries on with role call. Lockwood pushes his chair back, resting his feet on the desk, crossed at the ankle. "What have you got first?", he leant over and whispered.
"Maths. Why?". He shrugged. "Me too. Just curious"
His eyes slide down, and for a moment Lucy thinks he's leering at her, but then he frowns and picks up her damp satchel. "What happened here?"
The girl grabbed the bag back. "It got wet". "Clearly", he remarked dryly, "dare I ask how?". "It rained. I fell in a puddle". He grins again, annoyingly intense this early in the morning.
"Is your stuff okay?". "Mostly. My, uh, science books are wrecked, but...", she picks up the soggy remains of what was once her chemistry book and placed it back down with a wet thud.
He cocks his head to the side, and Lucy wonders rather suddenly why she's telling him this. It's not like he actually cares or anything.
She clears her throat and looks away. "The maths classrooms are on the other side of school. You should go if you want to get there on time"
"What about you?"
"I'll... come in a bit. I've got to... sort out this situation"
He frowns, dark brows knitting. "Lucy", he says evenly, "did you... just trip? Or were you... you know... pushed?"
Lucy stiffens. Is he insinuating that she can't handle herself?
"No"
He raises an eyebrow. "Lucy, you don't exactly strike me as the sort to be, you know, clumsy. Is someone bullying you?"
"Why is that any of your business?"
Lockwood raised his arms in surrender. "Okay, cool down, kid. I just wanted to know"
"Well, you don't need to", Lucy got to her feet and shoved her things into her barely - dried bag, before storming out of the class room, leaving the man staring after her.
It was Tuesday morning, just before the first bell, rummaging through her locker, that she came across three brand new science textbooks, with a note tucked into the front of the Physics one.
Don't forget to copy your notes ;)
