Apologies and Car Manners
The bell for the end of school rings, reverberating around the classroom and mingling with the sudden clamour of people packing away and scrambling to go home. I push away the nerves as I hurry out of math class and try to find him; I hope I don't miss him in this mad rush of students. Hundreds of heads bob above me, and my lower than average height means that I have to stand on my tiptoes constantly to try and see above them. At times like these, I really do wish I had gotten my father's tall genes.
I consider just giving up, as I'm obviously not getting anywhere. But Bex and I made a deal: she would tell me his whereabouts (and she finally did, after a lot of nagging) and I would tell her what's going on and what happened when I flipped out with him during chemistry. So, basically, if I don't find him, she'll have my head.
I also told Michaela and Adam at lunch that, as I have a shift at the diner straight after school anyway, I could just walk there and they could go on without me. They must have sensed something was up because they didn't question it – well, Adam didn't. Michaela gave me a suspicious look and an eyebrow raise which clearly said: 'tell me about it later'. So now I not only have to tell Bex and Macey and Liz, I also have a gossip mode Michaela waiting for me to spill as well. Perfect, right? I'm really regretting my choice of rejecting my usual ride home, however, as I'm tired and there's nothing I want to do less than work. I wish I hadn't said what I had though, and there's no way I'm not going to apologise. He needs to know that that girl back there, it really wasn't me. Or at least, I hope it's not.
I finally spot his dark head, opening his locker at the end of the corridor, and I breathe a sigh of relief. He's still here. I fight my way against the flow of people, and there are a lot of comments about my mental state and intellectual capacity, but I ignore them and almost jog to catch him before he decides to leave.
I approach him on the side where the dented locker door is open, so he can't see me. Steeling myself with a last bout of non-existent courage, I hesitantly knock on it. It makes a weirdly hollow sound.
"Zach?" I say quietly.
He peers around the door and tenses when he sees me. He immediately turns back to removing books from his bag and placing them in his locker, with a marked increase in the force with which he does it. He doesn't say anything or turn back to look at me, as if he hopes I'll leave. But I'm not going to leave until he hears me apologise. What makes me think he'll talk to me though, I have no idea. If I were him and he was me, I'd be ignoring me right now too. I just hope he's not too much like me, and he'll listen.
But it doesn't seem like he's in the mood for talking – at all. I continue to watch apprehensively, wishing he'd at least look at me, as he takes a few books back out and stuffs them in his shoulder bag; he seems almost flustered. At last, he finishes, slamming the locker door shut, his jaw clenched.
"Yeah?" he finally mutters, seemingly deciding that he can't ignore me forever but also doing everything he can to avoid my eyes. He's taken up an interest in the loose thread on the strap of his bag and keeps pulling on it. I want to slap his hand away from it, but I don't think that would go down too well.
I take a deep breath as he looks at me expectantly, already half-turning away. "I just… I came to apologize, Zach," I say, shifting uneasily. "You didn't deserve any of what I said this morning. At all. So… I'm sorry. Really."
He looks up, regarding me coolly. He reaches up to squeeze some of the tension out of his jaw, and I scratch my ear awkwardly.
"Is that all you came here for?" His voice is sharpened with an edge I don't want to look into. But the tone of his voice makes me flinch, and I step back, heart sinking as my eyebrows scrunch together.
In just a second, I've caught a glimpse of the Zachary Goode who offered his hand to Penelope, the Zachary Goode who's earned his reputation as the school's typical bad boy jock – the boy who I'd definitely be intimidated by, if it weren't for the memory of him handing out cookies at the diner and calling me 'Curtains'. His eyes are still inscrutable, his mouth set in a firm line, and the knowledge that I really have made him angry bothers me more than I care to admit.
I sigh. I knew this would be a long shot, but, I suppose, at least I tried. Guess the girls will just have to be disappointed.
"Yeah, that's pretty much it. Sorry for bothering you." My voice is far more level than I thought it would be, and I mentally applaud myself for not showing him that I'm actually feeling more than a little terrible right now. However, his cool demeanour flickers for just a second, and I see a tiny hint of regret in his eyes as he inspects my disappointed frown; maybe my face is giving me away. But I don't say anything more, as he's made it clear he doesn't want to talk to me, so I turn to leave.
Before I can walk away, however, an almost exasperated grunt sounds behind me and a warm hand lands on my shoulder. I jump, caught completely off-guard, as I turn back quickly.
"Curtains. Just forget it." He looks quite pained, as if he's saying this against his better judgment. "It's… fine. Forget it."
"Oh. Okay?" I reply, an unsure smile forming on my face. My voice is slightly too relieved, though, and I wince inwardly. "Are you… sure?" Is that even the right thing to say? Why am I asking him if it's okay? What am I doing?
He still looks pained, and he runs a hand over his face. "Ugh, why do you have to be so nice? As if you came over to me and apologized," he mutters disbelievingly, almost to himself. "I was fine with being annoyed at you."
"Uh… Sorry?" I say, uncertain what I'm supposed to say to that.
"You can stop with the sorry's now, Curtains," he says, grinning suddenly. Okay, I've made up my mind: this boy definitely has some sort of bipolar-ness in him. The effect is startling: his grin literally transforms him, from broody, angry Zach to the cute, slightly cocky and almost charming boy who helped me that first time in the diner. I angrily wipe my thoughts away, but not before my cheeks flare up at his ever-growing smirk. It's as if he knows the exact effect his smile is having on me.
Stupid, damn cheeks.
"Right," I say awkwardly, after a too-long pause punctuated only by a discomfited cough on my behalf.
"Right," he repeats absent-mindedly, still looking all too pleased with himself. Why, I'm not completely sure.
"I'll, uh, just be going then," I say self-consciously. His gaze cuts towards me, all of a sudden focused and intense, and his eyebrows lower over his striking eyes. He steps ever so slightly forward.
"Hey, how're you getting home?" he asks.
I freeze. "Um… What?" If I wasn't so sure I'd heard incorrectly, I'd say he was… concerned.
He doesn't seem fazed by my befuddlement. "How are you getting home? I saw that short blondie you're friends with go home earlier, and Bex and that lot went off ages ago."
I blink up at him. "That 'short blondie' is called Michaela. And, well… I have a shift at the diner straight after school – it starts at half-four. I was going to walk there." I brush my hair behind my ear and pull my bag up more securely onto my shoulder.
Why do I suddenly feel so awkward? It suddenly hits me how deserted the corridor has become; it feels too quiet and bizarrely secluded, and I don't know how to act around him. How does one act around someone they've indirectly seen half-naked? Whose girlfriend is practically their sworn enemy? How does one do that, I ask you?
"I don't think so," he says, looking at me a little incredulously.
"You don't think what?" I ask, still caught in my own embarrassment.
"You're not walking there! It's… not safe," he declares.
His pronouncement leaves little room for continuing with my awkwardness, and I struggle to fight down the sudden smirk threatening to emerge on my face, one that could rival his. "It's not safe to walk ten minutes to your diner in broad daylight, in weather that is practically summer?"
He rolls his eyes. "Well, yeah. It's starting to get dark out."
"It's not even fall yet, Zach. The sun is still in the sky – I'm sure I'll be okay," I say, reassuringly, still fighting a smile.
"You could still get mugged," he deadpans.
I'm unable to help myself at this, at that poker straight face he has on; a laugh bubbles up and bursts out of me. "Oh, yes, how could I not think of that?"
He gives me a smug smile. "Precisely. That's why I'll be taking you."
My laughter dies abruptly. Although I knew that was probably the point of his question, I didn't actually think he was serious. Especially as not five minutes ago, he wasn't exactly happy with me.
"Uh, thanks, but that's okay," I mumble. A blush blazes across my cheeks. He's offering to drive me?
"I could easily get to the diner before you and tell Arnold you're not coming today, you know, and I could also tell the security guy that you're not allowed within the premises anymore," he says nonchalantly, smug smile still in place.
"There's a security guy?"
"What do you take me for?" he says in a mock offended tone. "I hold the safety of my customers in great stead."
"Riiiight."
Every time I'm getting awkward, he'll go and say something dorky and I can't help but respond. Despite how our conversation initially started off, I'm finding that I am actually enjoying talking to him.
He gives a grand, sweeping gesture. "Your carriage awaits, Curtains. Take it or leave it."
I give him an eye roll even Michaela would be proud of. "Alright, alright – I'm coming."
xxxxx
"What are you doing, Cammie?" Zach glances over at me as we turn out of the car park. He's wearing a suspicious look.
"Look at the road," I scowl. "And what, I'm just playing some music." What does he think I'm doing? I was interested to see what music he listened to, and I was surprised to find most of the bands that I liked myself jumbled into the pile of CDs stuffed into the glove compartment. I was just about to play some All Time Low.
"Calm your panties. And you can't touch Beatrice's stereo," he says, almost dismayed. "Has no one ever taught you about car manners?"
"Car manners?"
"It's that thing when you don't touch someone else's stereo," he says, all seriousness.
"Ha, that was so funny. Help, I think my sides are gonna split." Sassy Cammie has made an appearance, ladies and gents.
"Since when are you so sarcastically hilarious?" I notice his eyes are back on the road, and I can see a smirk on his face.
"Since always, dearest Z-Boy."
"Please don't say you really just called me Z-Boy? I think my ears are scarred." He gives me an amusedly disgusted look and I giggle awkwardly.
I just… giggled. I stop abruptly.
"It sounded better in my head," I mutter defensively, my newfound and short-lived bravado shrivelling up and dying.
"Yeah, no doubt. Hey," he says, eyes narrowing as he sees the CD I'm still holding out of the corner of his eyes. "You still haven't put the CD back." He turns around to give me a glare and he takes a hand off the wheel, snatching it out of my hands.
"Eyes on the road and hands on the wheel!" I shriek manically.
He jumps violently at my screech, cursing like a sailor, just managing to stop the car from swerving into the wrong lane.
"Jesus, Cammie! There was no need for you to blast my ear off!" He looks a bit peeved, and I stare at my hands sheepishly. "Jesus," he repeats. "There isn't even anyone on the road. You gotta calm down, lady."
"I'm calm! You just need to get some more driving lessons," I grumble. "How did you even pass? Isn't 'look at the road' the first thing in the test?"
He completely ignores me and instead starts talking to his car like a demented old man. "Poor Beatrice," he coos, gently patting the wheel. "Scary Cammie almost killed us." He shoots me a smug smirk, as if he somehow thinks I'll be annoyed that he just called me 'Scary Cammie' in a baby voice. I'm not. Obviously.
"Oh, shut up," I scowl. I stare out the window, watching the trees blur past; the sun is shining directly onto my face, meaning my cheeks are getting uncomfortably hot. I pull down the sun-shield, half-expecting him to have another tantrum at the sight of me touching something else in the dratted car.
"Brighten up, Curtains," he grins. "It's almost cooking time. What are you going to be making today? Who knows? Maybe I'll even help you again," he winks.
"Excuse me while I sing for joy. That would just be the absolute highlight of my day."
"That's fine by me, I wouldn't blame you. Just make sure you don't shatter any windows. Then Beatrice and I really wouldn't be happy with you."
I roll my eyes. "Just drive, Goode."
A/N Hello, it's me. I've been wondering if after all these weeks you'd still like to read this fanfiction because I'm such a crappy updater and gah I don't blame you for being peed off but the truth is just stop reading now if you want weekly updates okay okay? I have no schedule and I try to update whenever I can, sometimes I really can't be bothered, and if I can't be bothered, the chapters go really shitty. So yeah. I am very sorry. I wish I could be like those really great authors who can update every week and get good grades and revise and have a social life and are still able to watch loads of TV shows and read two books a week and bake and go scuba diving. That would be goals. Alas, that ain't me.
Right, now I've got that out the way: I hope you liked it! I enjoyed writing this, and I actually wrote half last Sunday and never got round to you finishing it, so here you go! It's a little on the short side but I'm hoping you won't mind too much. Please tell me what you thought!
BooksLover2000: Thank you! You're almost always the first reviewer, it's awesome haha. I really like Blue. Hope this was okay!
Archiepoke123: Thank you so much! I'm so happy you like it. I'm afraid you'll have to get behind me in the queue for bitch slapping Penelope - doesn't she deserve it!
childofhectate: Thank you, and I hope your exams also went(/go?) really well! Also hope you liked this chapter, but I feel like Zach is a little all over the place - I'm worried I won't be able to sort him out haha.
GallagherGirls13Bye: Yes, of course I am! Isn't it great?! And thank you so much! I'm not offended, no worries. Hopefully this chapter was okay for you! I completely agree with you, Cammie was being so unreasonable. I *may* have overdone it a little but I tried to salvage the situation! Thank you for being so lovely! xx
HippieGuru: Thank you! I love Blue too - she's amazing! Gawd, your reviews are always so great, thank you dude. Haha, I'm happy you liked this side of Cammie, lots of people don't! I AGREE ZAMMIE 4 EVA. I love your reviews, they always make me smile. I am hell sorry for being such a bad updater though - I swear I don't do it on purpose! Oh, I'm going to reply to your rhyme: in a while, crocodile! The most simplest, most obvious rhyme to exist but whatevs ;)
Selena: Thank you! I hope Zach was kinda sweet here? I'm still waiting at the bottom of that cliff. Waiting to slap that gurl.
Evelyn: Hi, cool! I'll try to have her in it as much as I can :) And thank you!
Lolamicfuzzy: Thank you! Hope you liked it!
Lalalucy: Thank you so so much! I will always update, even though I'm a terrible updater. Hope you liked this one!
Jen: Thank you! Good GOODE, Zammie is always the number one OTP. Always and foreverrrrr. Although I do like myself some Adam, haha. And that's so cool, I love Love Letters and I am so gonna tell lovewords that we're both someone's favourites because that is beyond amazing! Thank you! And ever so sorry for the late update. I feel so bad!
Zkhatun244: Thank youuuu!