Chapter 4: by panfs
It's several hours later before she leaves, and the quiet of the room leaves a tangibly different taste on my tongue. The sheets of my bed are cool and markedly unruffled as I slip between them- but I can't be sure whether or not this is a welcome change. Despite everything, somehow our time together feels more intimate than ever before
There's a small patch on the back of my shoulder that tingles beneath my shirt. That's her fault too- she was just leaving, guitar slung over her shoulder and tucking long strands of blonde curls more wearily behind her ear, when she rested a hand on my shoulder, just for a second. It's not as if she's never touched me before- far from it.
I stretch out my feet, toes greeting the coldest corners of the bed, roll onto my back, staring at the ceiling and thinking of Carrie. I'd always known she was beautiful, albeit a viciously snarky bitch, but there was something about her singing that made me want to learn more about the Carrie who taught herself guitar and pinned flowers in her hair before school.
Before today, I figured I knew all that was needed when it came to Carrie: she was a vicious harpy, she loved to tease and taunt me, she didn't let anyone get near to her and she wanted to use me, night after night. But now, everything had been challenged. With one simple request, Carrie has flipped his perspective on one of the most significant people in his live. If he's being completely honest with himself, Alex might go so far as to say that she is the single most important person in his life- the concept of waking up one day to a life without Carrie, between their vicious arguments and their desperate lips- he just can't imagine it.
Somewhere between my pondering and my dreams, sleep crawls up on me slowly, so slowly that it feels like an age before the darkness even starts to settle in the corners of my vision. Shadows tease my mind and silhouettes dance across my room, toying with my exasperated eyes. Grasping at the last vestiges of my consciousness, it suddenly occurs to me that I can't remember the last time I'd fallen asleep lost in thought, rather than just collapsing into my pillow, exhaustion obliterating the motion from my limbs and the deliberations from my mind. Then, there is the clear, steady voice, echoing in my ears. It sings so sweetly, whispers of promises and threats, and she lulls me into a tiresome, restless sleep.
As it likes to do, morning comes with unwelcome speed the next day, with the sharp rays of sunlight and the loud clicking of Dad's razor against the bathroom sink. Next comes the sound of my mum yelling out to my brother- both amusing because I know how much he hates mornings and how little tolerance she has for his laziness, but also filled with dread- I'm going to be next. Like a film reel spun too fast, sharp words and cool morning air blurs into the stench of cologne and coffee shuffling out the front door before I've even made it to the kitchen, most of it lost anywhere between a vague haze of breakfast somehow migrating to a plate and onwards to my mouth, and the unyielding, grey concrete beneath my feet as they carry me through the school gate.
It's not that I expect anything in particular- perhaps that is what's different on this particular morning. Every other day, I walk through here waiting for precisely what I know is going to happen- the gentle comfort of predictability as reliable as the sting of Carrie's words in my ears and her nails in my back.
She's sitting where she always does, second row next to the window. The only window in the classroom- it's no coincidence. Carrie leaves very little to chance. I remember all too well the first day of class- Miss Langham had places a small piece of paper with a name on it on every desk and had us line up at the front of the room.
"In my class, I believe in equality. I believe in a sense of order and I believe in students respecting their teachers. Now, I believe there have been some troubles in this class in particular, but I believe that if we work together, we can get along just fine and learn to be role model young boys and girls." All delivered with the simpering smile of a daemon. She'd believed in a lot of things- but after a year with Carrie and I in her class, I'm sure her believes were being sorely testing.
At her word, we'd dispersed amongst the class, finding our names and taking our seats. I'd quickly made my way to the back row, making a switch with Arushi so Charlie could be next to me, and happily sat down. Looking to my other side, I'd found myself pleasantly surprised to see that Anthony had been put next to me. He was an friendly sort- and most likely could prove fun if he got into the swing of my favourite hobby of finding ways to prank and prod Carrie.
The girl herself had waited until we'd all dispersed amongst the seats, wandering about to find our names. After a moment or so, I'd seen her give an almost imperceptible nod, then make a beeline for the seat beside the window. Lily was sitting there, her blonde hair in two impossibly long plaits, and she was already unpacking her books and pens. Unfortunately for Lily, she'd end up packing them up again a heartbeat later, one look from Carrie (eyebrow slightly cocked, head tilted to the left) was more than enough to tell Lily that this seat had a new owner.
This morning she appears as pristine and perfect as ever, crystal cool in the face of the morning clamour. Miss Langham has not graced us with her malevolent authority yet, so I make my way over to Carrie, my lips torn between a smirk and a gentler smile, trying to gauge where we stood. Had last night been as remarkable for her as it had been for me?
"Hi there fuck-face."
Apparently not.
"Princess. Did you leave your tiara at home then?" I shove my hands into my pockets, trying to keep a cool exterior despite my trepidation below. It's just like any other day, the insults and the hatred and I'm not sure I can do it.
She smirks up at me, waiting, and for the first time, I struggle to come up with something to say. Nothing's changed between us as far as she's concerned, and I wish I could go back to a time when that would have been just fine. But somehow it sets me off balance, and before I can take the time to process the words properly, I cringe internally as they come streaming from my mouth.
"-Or did your mum just take it with her when she packed up and left your sorry arse behind." (1167)
I hear a collective gasp of the students who've encircled us, ready for the "Carrie-and-Alex' show of bickering and bitchiness. This is the kind of information that Carrie would keep close to her chest- one of her most powerful attributes at school is that no one knows a thing about her, it's all hidden behind a cool smile and sharp words. The only reason I know is that when I visit her mum isn't there and when I asked her once if we should be worried about her mum noticing when she got home, Carrie replied saying, "Mum isn't coming back home and good riddance."
The tension between us is crackling and the room is almost silent as everyone waits for the next move in this cowardly game of chess I've started. Carrie's face has not moved an inch since I spoke, no reaction either way betrayed by her features. I almost want to apologise, I know I've gone too far and I didn't intend to ever bring this up at school, but we both have reputations at risk here and Carrie never backs down, so neither shall I.
I keep waiting and Carrie keeps staring and the longer time passes the more I feel like her gaze is boring into me, burning at the retinas and borrowing through to the core of my brain, tearing me apart. Then almost when I feel like the pressure is unbearable, she slowly rises to her feet and walks over to me, her scrutiny unwavering. She's barely five inches from my face when she speaks, and when she does it's a clear sentence, not a single person in the classroom could have missed it.
"So you think you're better than me Prat? I'd love to see you prove it."
There's a beat and at this distance I can see that her eyes are shining slightly more than usual, and I'm about to lean forward slightly and say something- to comfort her or to take back what I blurted out, but she cuts across me before I get the chance.
"After school, down behind the factory. And don't you dare tell me you wouldn't punch a girl or I will staple your balls to your nose so every time you open your mouth to fill the air with your stupidity, you'll be eating shit."
With that, she strides past me and out the classroom door, leaving a wake of murmuring and whispers behind her. When Miss Langham finally does arrive, and we're all seated but hardly sedate, I try to figure out what's just happened, adamant that this had to be some sort of strange dream. After last night, I was already confused enough, thanks to Carrie, but now this?
Out of the frying pan and into the fire.
Sorry this took so ridiculously long to write! I hope you liked it :3 Thank you so very much to the lovely animegirl-isnotonfire, vogonsoup, TheAdelaide9 and jpuddleduck22 for their reviews, I'm so glad you're enjoying and can't wait to see you at the next epic chapter by ijustlovemesomefriedchicken! :D
xxx panfs