Daylight is filtering through the trees waving gently in the breeze, illuminating spots on the road by the time Emma turns the bug around and heads back towards the uninviting streets that remind her of the life she so longs to leave behind. It had been tempting to keep driving last night, foot to pedal and back to leather straight into the vast expanse of darkness without looking over her shoulder, but the omnipresent invisible tether caused her to return. She kept telling herself it was Ruby she couldn't leave behind - which was partially true, but deep down she knew it also had something to do with a certain pair of captivating blue eyes.
She careers into the school parking lot, just as the bell rings – signalling registration. Screeching to a halt, her faded yellow bug comes to a stop smack bang in the middle of two spaces, unbothered, she hops out; remembering to grab her duffle from the passenger seat and a pack of half-empty cigarettes off the dashboard just before she throws the door shut. With the confidence of someone who isn't wearing the same wrinkled clothes as the day before, she strides into the building - the long white corridors are empty, bar a few nervous looking students rushing to get to homeroom on time, juxtaposing Emma's clear lack of urgency as she moves smoothly and surely along, as though she hasn't got a care in the world. Her plan is to get changed in the bathroom and then get marked in at homeroom so she can leave without her foster Mother getting a truancy call.
Just as she's rounding the corner to get to the bathroom she looks up, narrowly avoiding a collision with a tall bony figure dressed in black, she was desperately hoping to avoid. "Isn't your homeroom the other way Miss Swan?" Nardone points out, her cold piercing eyes burning holes in Emma's skull. She shrugs and attempts to cut the encounter short by sidestepping and walking off but Nard is quicker than she looks and manages to block her path. 'Fuck', Emma thinks as Nardone hold out her arm and moves her hand in a circular motion, indicating that she should turn around and go the other way. Unwilling to budge, Emma explains in a monotone voice that she needs to use the bathroom, but apparently Nard couldn't care less, simply staring straight through her. After a beat Emma sighs and rolls her eyes, turning on her heels in a dramatic fashion and stomping off down the corridor, Nard's breath is a constant annoyance as she follows her right up to her homeroom door. Throwing a glare over her shoulder Emma walks in and slams her duffel down next to the closest chair, her tutor shoots her a glance across the room but doesn't say anything as he marks her down as late.
The minute homeroom is over Emma grabs her duffel and stalks out the room, weaving with careful precision through the path that clears for her in the busy corridor. She kicks open the bathroom door to find gaggles of girls crowded round the mirrors, applying mounds of lipstick, their laughter stops momentarily when they see her but they soon regain composure and go back to their chatter about a wild party the night before. She makes eye contact with a few of them in their reflections as she lazily pushes on each dirty stall door, to no avail – every single green piece of metal is locked shut and she's not about to get changed in the middle of the bathroom with the number of phones in hands. Pissed off she kicks the door back open and exits - the other nearest bathroom is across the block, and now she's craving a cigarette, so instead of trekking over there she decides to nip across to her favourite fire door a few corridors over.
When she gets there the door is ajar, which is unusual. She pushes it open slowly and pokes her head round, expecting to find Nard or some other member of staff inspecting the area – discovering her old discarded cigarette butts and preparing to have the caretakers block off the door once and for all. Instead she finds someone sat with their back to the wall, hurriedly zipping their bag shut. "Hey." She says, closing the door behind her and leaning against the other side of the wall. Without missing a beat, she lights up a cigarette and takes a long, soothing drag. Inhaling the bitter smoke and letting her mind wander. After a minute, the figure a few feet away from her stands up and looks over, smiling awkwardly.
She almost chokes on her cigarette smoke when she realises who it is. Deep blue eyes glance at her before looking back at the ground and he scratches his sleeve nervously. "I didn't know you were a smoker." She says to him, staring straight ahead into the distance. He says nothing but out of her peripheral vision she sees him shrug and scratch the side of his head. "I didn't peg you for one that's all." She adds. Still he says nothing, simply hopping awkwardly from foot to foot. Emma debates it but decides to hold out her pack to him, indicating that he can have one. When he doesn't move she exaggerates the movement. "Do you want another?" He stares at her, an almost bewildered look on his face but steps towards her and takes one.
"Sure." He smiles, appearing to relax. "Do you have a light? Mines…" He gestures to his rucksack. Emma holds out hers, and watches as he struggles to light up - his hands shaking. She tries to place him, racking her brain to see if she can picture him anywhere before he showed up outside the stairwell, but his familiarity must just be general because she can't. Finally, he manages to light up, tossing the lighter back to her and inhaling timidly before letting his arm fall to his side – the sleeve of his flannel shirt bunching slightly before he tugs it back down over his hand. Part of Emma wants to ask him about that day, when they made eye contact - the strange connection she felt has been bugging her ever since, but it doesn't seem like the appropriate time. Instead she opts for casual small talk.
"So, who do you hang out with, I've never really seen you with anyone." She points out. Now he's the one who looks up and stares out into the distance.
"Uhh, well. Felix, Felix Holland." He says, adjusting the collar on his shirt. "You probably don't know him." Emma narrows her eyes, thinking hard.
"Wait, no." She says, pausing to take one last drag of cigarette before stubbing it out with her toe. "I think I do actually. He was in one of my classes Freshman year." Blue eyes nods, also dropping his cigarette to the ground and stubbing it out with his lumberjack boot, despite only having taken a few drags.
"I should be going, I've already missed first period." He says, scratching the side of his head. "Thanks for the smoke." He adds, struggling to prise open the heavy metal door - when he does manage, it swings open violently and he looks back at Emma, embarrassed, his cheeks flushed a dark shade of red. He takes a deep breath to try and hide it. "Are you wearing the same clothes as yesterday?" He asks, a slight smirk forming. Emma tries to formulate a sarcastic response but he's walked off and left the door to swing shut behind him before she can. As the scent of smoke fades she realises she still doesn't know his name.
Unlike blue eyes, Emma has no intention of getting to any of her classes so she sits down and gets her phone out. The first notification to pop up is a message from Graham, sent at 10:05am. It simply reads 'U cming over l8r? U left so early we didnt get a chance to finish what we'd started last night.' Her automatic reaction is to reply with 'Sure' but she ignores it, and decides that she can't face seeing Graham today. 'Sorry cant.' She replies instead, hoping he doesn't ask too many questions. Throughout the morning the bells ring signalling classes, Emma wastes time rather than turning up for any of them – she sits outside for a while chain-smoking. Then she wanders the corridors, gets changed in the bathroom, and stops at her locker a few times to spritz her cinnamon and apple mouth-spray. At one point, she even ends up lying down in the bug, but for once she can't be bothered to drive away, still exhausted from the impromptu road trip the night before. Even inside the bug she hears the bell ring in succession three times, indicating that lunch period has begun. She hauls herself up and texts Ruby to let her know she'll meet her in the cafeteria.
It takes less than two minutes for her to find Ruby once she's inside, after all there aren't many other girls dressed in stilettos and tight fitting red dresses. The huge pink bubble she's blowing is also a dead giveaway. As soon as she sees Emma she waves enthusiastically and slides onto a bench at a spare table, in the corner of the room. "What have you been up to?" Emma asks as she sits down. She expects her friend to launch into a full-on loved up speech about Dr Whale and her master seduction plan, but instead she's pleasantly surprised. Ruby plays with her bubble-gum for a second before answering.
"I sent off my application to culinary school." She says, hesitantly, almost so quietly that Emma misses it.
"What!" Emma squeals. "Ruby, that's awesome!" She lunges over the dirty cafeteria table to embrace her for a couple of seconds, before letting go and regaining her usual stoic demeanour. Ruby breaks out in a huge smile and starts twiddling her hair round her finger.
"I wasn't sure whether to tell you or not because it's unlikely I'll get in but yeah…" She trails off. "In other news; I managed to bag an hour-long Chemistry tutoring session with Whale after school." She winks and Emma pretends to gag.
"Could we not have focussed on culinary school." Emma sighs. "I mean do I really have to warn you again that this thing with Dr Whale isn't a good idea. Besides you don't even like Chemsitry." Ruby smiles and continues twirling her hair whilst Emma glares at her sternly.
"I'm eighteen." Ruby points out with a glint in her eye. "It's up to me what I do." She pauses. "How's your love life anyway?" Emma shakes her head at the question.
"My love life is all we ever talk about." She protests.
"Well we can always talk about your home life if you prefer?" Ruby says, quirking an eyebrow and smirking - the question's laced with sarcasm and they both know it. Emma fiddles with the buttons on her jacket debating whether to tell Ruby about blue eyes and all the strange encounters they've had recently. She decides if there's one person she can confide in, it's Ruby. She launches into the anecdote about the first time she saw him on the other side of the glass, trying to gauge Ruby's reaction as she goes along. When she's finished Ruby laughs. "He's not a mysterious onlooker Em, he's a Peeping Tom."
"I don't think he was looking deliberately." Emma immediately shoots back. To anyone else it might sound stone cold, but Ruby senses that her friend is more on the defensive and lets it go.