I own absolutely nothing. All credit goes to Rebecca Donovan and Tom Lynch. Enjoy!
While Madison and i walked to journalism, i could tell the lunch performance was still lingering in her head. She looked enchanted, and it was a little eerie. I paced alongside her in silence, hoping she'd snap out of it.
Upon entering class, i went straight to the computer with the oversize monitor and pulled up the latest draft of this weeks Weslyn High Times. Focused on the screen, i zoned out the scraping of chairs and murmuring voices as everyone found their seats. I had to get this addition to the printer before the end of class so it could be distributed in the morning.
Faintly, i heard Ms. Holt gather everyone's attention to review the progress of the assignments for next week's paper. I blocked out the conversations. I continued scrutinizing the formatting, moving ads to accommodate article space, and inserting photographs to complement the featured articles.
"Is it too late to consider another article for next week's paper?"
The voice distracted me. I didn't know this voice. The girl spoke without hesitation, with a sense of purpose and confidence. I stared at the computer screen without seeing what was in front of me, waiting. The room was silent with anticipation. Ms. Holt encouraged her to continue.
"I wanted to write an article about teenagers' self-image and whether they're able to accept their flaws. I'd like to interview students and hand out surveys to find what part of the body they're most self conscious about." I turned my chair around, interested in who would think of such a controversial topic. "The article could reveal that despite a perceived social status, everyone's insecure about something." She glanced over at me during her explanation, realizing i was paying attention. Some of the other students also noticed i was no longer working on the computer and were watching me, trying to decipher my pensive expression.
The voice belonged to a girl i'd never seen before. As i listened to her finish, i was irked by her request. How could someone obviously without flaws think it would be okay to interview emotionally vulnerable students to reveal something they didn't like about themselves, probably confiding an insecurity they had a hard time admitting to themselves? Who'd want to openly discuss their embarrassing whiteheads, or admit they wore an A cup, or had the muscle structure of a ten-year-old? It sounded cruel. The more i thought about it, the more irritated i became. Honestly, who was this girl?
She sat in the back of the class wearing an un-tucked sky-blue collared shirt and a pair of perfectly fitted jeans. Her sleeves were rolled up and the buttons undone enough to reveal her smooth skin and just the right amount of cleavage. The shirt complemented her sparkling brown eyes, which moved across the room, connecting with her audience. She appeared relaxed, even though everyone in the class was staring at her. She probably expected most people to take notice of her.
There was something else about her that i couldn't quite put my finger on - she seemed older. She definitely looked like she was either a junior or a senior. She had a youthful face with a soft jaw, complementing her brow line and the straight nose that pointed to her perfectly defined lips. An artist couldn't have chiseled a better bone structure.
When she spoke, she easily captured everyone's attention. She obviously got me to stop and take notice. The projection in her voice made me think that she was used to talking to a more mature audience. I couldn't decide if she seemed distinguished or just arrogant - she was so confident. I leaned toward arrogance.
"Interesting idea -" Ms. Holt began.
"Seriously?" I interjected before i could stop myself. I could feel fourteen pairs of eyes shifting toward me. I even caught a couple mouths dropping out of the corner of my eye. My gaze remained focused on the source of the voice. I found perplexed smoky eyes looking back at me.
"Let me get this straight - you want to exploit the insecurities of a bunch of teenagers so that you can write an article exposing their flaws? Don't you think that's a little destructive? Besides, we like to write news in our paper. It can be entertaining and witty - but it should always be news, not gossip." She raised her eyebrows in what appeared to be shock.
"That's not exactly -" she began.
"Or are you planning to write an expose on how many girls want bigger breasts and the number of guys who want bigger -" i paused and heard a few shocked inhales- "um, muscles? Superficial and sleazy may work for tabloids, or maybe that's what you're used to where you come from. But i give our readers the benefit of assuming they have brains." There were a few muffled laughs. I didn't flinch - i stared intently into the unwavering brown eyes. There was a slight smirk on her face. Was she amused by my verbal assault? I set my jaw against her attack.
"I take my assignments seriously. I'm hoping my research will uncover how much we all have in common, regardless of our popularity of perceived attractiveness. I don't think the article will exploit anyone, but assure us that everyone has insecurities about their appearances, even those who may be considered perfect. I respect the confidentiality of my sources, and i understand the difference between a puff piece and actual news." Her voice was calm and patient, yet i thought it was patronizing. I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks.
"And you think you will get honest answers out of people? They will really talk to you?" There was a bite in my tone that i was not used to hearing, and judging by the silence in the room, it was a surprise to everyone else as well.
"I have a way of getting people to open up and trust me," she said with a smile full of conceit and narcissism.
Before i could rebut, Ms. Holt interrupted, "Thank you, Ashley." She looked at me cautiously. "Spence, since you seem to have reservations about this article, as the editor of the paper, would you be willing to permit Miss Davies to write the article, and then you can have the final say as to whether it makes the cut?"
"I can agree to that," i stated methodically.
"Miss Davies, is that acceptable to you?"
"I'm comfortable with that. She is the editor."
Oh, she was pompous, wasn't she?! I couldn't stand to look at her any longer. I turned back to the computer.
"Great," Ms. Holt replied with relief. Then she directed her attention back to me. "Spence, are you just about done with the computer? I'd like to begin today's discussion."
"I'm sending it to the printers now," i confirmed without looking back.
"Wonderful. Would everyone please open your textbooks to page ninety-three, with the heading 'Journalism Ethics'?" Ms. Holt attempted to redirect the attention to the front of the class.
I took my seat next to Madison, feeling the shocked stares linger upon me. I kept my eyes glued to the book, unable to concentrate.
"What was that about?" Madison whispered, just as surprised. I shrugged, not looking over at her.
After what felt like the longest fifty minutes, the class was finally over. When we were released into the hall, i couldn't hold back any longer. "Who does she think she is? How completely arrogant can a person be?!"
Madison stopped when we rounded the corner, heading to our lockers. She gawked at me as if she didn't recognize me. Not acknowledging her confounded stare, i went on. "Who is she anyway?"
"Ashley Davies." her voice said from behind me.
My back tensed, and i stared at Madison, mortified. I slowly turned toward the voice with a reddened face. I couldn't say anything. How much had she heard?
"I hope i didn't upset you too much by suggesting the article. I wasn't trying to offend you."
It took me a moment to compose myself. Madison stood beside me, unwilling to miss out on a front-row seat for this confrontation.
"I wasn't offended. I'm just looking out for the integrity of the paper." I tried to sound aloof, as if the interaction in the class hadn't bothered me.
"I understand. That's your job." She actually sounded sincere, or was she patronizing me again?
I changed the subject. "Today your first day?"
"No," she said slowly, appearing baffled. I've been in class all week. Actually, i'm in a few of your other classes too."
I looked to the floor and quietly said, "Oh."
"I'm not surprised you didn't notice. You seem pretty intense in class. It's obvious school's important to you. You don't seem to pay attention to anything else."
"Are you accusing me of being self-absorbed?" I shot my eyes back up at her, feeling my entire face flame up.
"What? No." She smiled in amusement at my reaction. I stared at her in offence. She held my glare, her cold brown eyes unblinking. She was full of herself and it repulsed me. I shook my head slightly in disgust and walked away. Madison could only stare with her mouth ajar, as if she'd witnessed a horrific car wreck.
"Where the hell did that come from?" she demanded, her wide eyes glued to me as she strode alongside me. "I've never seen you act like that before." I couldn't get over her admonishment. She almost sounded disappointed.
"Excuse me?!" i shot back defensively, unable to look at her for more than a second. "She's a conceited jerk. I don't care what she thinks of me."
"I thought she was just concerned that she'd offended you in class. I think she might even be interested in you."
"Yeah, right."
"Seriously, i know you're extremely focused, but how did you not notice her before today?"
"What, do you think i'm self-absorbed too?" i snapped, regretting it as soon as i said it.
Madison rolled her eyes. "You know i don't, so stop being stupid. I get why you shut everyone out. I know how much you need to get through high school, like every breath depends on it. But i also get how it looks to everyone else. It's just accepted that this is who you are, so no one really pays attention anymore. Your lack of"- she hesitated, looking for the right word -"interest is expected. I think it's amazing that a guy who's only been here a week has picked up on your intensity. He's obviously noticed you."
"Madison, she's not that perceptive," i accused. "She was just trying to recover from the blow she took to her ego in class."
She let out a laugh with a shake of her head. "You're impossible."
I opened my locker, then looked over at Madison before putting my books away. "She's really been here all week?"
"Don't you remember when i mentioned the hot new girl during lunch on Monday?"
"That was her?" I scoffed, shoving my books in my locker and flinging the door shut. "You think she's good-looking?" I laughed like the thought that she could be attractive was insane.
"Yeah," she responded emphatically, like i was the one who was insane, "along with, like, every other girl and guy in school. Even the seniors are checking her out. And if you try to convince me that she's not gorgeous, i'm going to slap you."
This time i rolled my eyes. "You know what - i really don't want to talk about her anymore." I was oddly exhausted by my outburst. I was never out of control, especially in school - with witnesses.
"You know everyone in school will be talking about it. 'Did you hear Spence Carlin finally snapped?" Madison teased.
"Nice. I'm glad you're finding this funny," i shot back before walking past her down the hall. Madison jogged to catch up, still smiling.
As much as i wanted to forget it, i couldn't help but replay the entire scene in my head while we walked to study period in the cafeteria. We continued through the caf, where i could already hear the whispers, and out the back doors that led to the picnic tables.
Seriously, what happened? Why did this girl bother me so much? I shouldn't care enough to be this upset. Honestly, i didn't even know her. Then my overreaction sank in.
"Madison, i'm an idiot," i confessed, feeling truly miserable. She was laying down on the bench, absorbing the warm rays, peeling back the straps of her tank top to avoid tan lines - messing with every guy within eyes shot. She sat up curiously and took in my agonized expression.
"What are you talking about?"
"I have no idea what happened to me in there. Really, why should i care if this girl writes an article about the imperfections of being a teenager? I cannot believe i acted like that and then made a scene in the hall. I'm completely humiliated." I groaned and put my face down on my folded arms.
Madison didn't say anything. After a moment, looked up at her, questioning. "What? You're not even going to try to make me feel better?"
"Sorry, i've got nothing. Spen, you were pretty crazy in there," she remarked with a smirk.
"Thanks Madison!" i connected with her smiling eyes and couldn't hold back. We simultaneously burst out laughing. It came out so loud that the table next to us stopped mid-conversation to stare. I definitely looked like i'd lost my mind now.
It took a full minute for me to break through the hysterics. Madison tried to stop, but small bouts of laughter would escape whenever she looked at me.
She leaned toward me and lowered her giggling voice. "Well, maybe you can redeem yourself. She's on her way over here."
"No way!" My eyes widened in panic.
"I hope the laughing wasn't about me." It was that same confident, charming voice. I closed my eyes, afraid to face her.
I took a calming breath and turned to look up at her. "No, Madison said something funny." I hesitated before i added, "I shouldn't have gone off on you. I'm not usually like that."
Madison started laughing again, probably replaying my mortifying moment in her head. "Sorry, i can't help it," she said, her eyes watering from trying to hold it in. "I need to get some water."
She left us alone. Oh no - she left us alone!
She responded to my indirect apology. "I know." Her perfect lips curled up into a soft smile. I was surprised by the casualness of her response. "Good luck in your game today. I heard you're pretty good." Without allowing me to respond, she walked away.
What just happened? What did she mean, she knows i'm not usually like that? I stared at the spot where she stood for half a minute, trying to comprehend what just played out. What wasn't she upset with me? I couldn't believe i was so worked up, especially over a girl. I needed to shake it off and be over it - stay focused.
"She's gone? Please don't tell me you insulted her again!" Madison's voice startled me. I hadn't even noticed her return.
"No, i swear. She wished me luck in the game today and walked away. It was...strange." Madison raised her eyebrows, grinning.
"Oh, and i guess you could say she's decent looking," i mumbled. Madison's face lit up with a huge smile.
"She's so mysterious and i think she likes you." she taunted.
"Come on, Madison. Now you're being stupid."
Somehow i completed the homework due the next day, despite glancing around and searching for Ashley every other minute. I couldn't get to the longer-term assignments. I saved them for the weekend. It's not like i had anything else to do.
"I'm going to the locker room to get ready for the game."
"I'll be down in a minute," Madison replied from her meditative spot on the bench.
I gathered my books and walked through the cafeteria.
I did everything i could to stare straight ahead so i wouldn't look for Ashley - unsuccessfully.
Hey guys!
Hope you enjoy. Let me know if there are too many mistakes for you to enjoy the story. I will try my hardest not to have many.
~Court