Awake

Noah hung up, slipped the phone in his pocket and jogged back to us.

“Everything okay?” I asked. Please don’t have a girlfriend! It would be pretty crappy of him if he had, we’d been flirting and texting constantly.

“Everything is fine,” he said, casually throwing his arm over my shoulder. It was a friendly move, but it made my insides turn to mush. Imogen rolled her eyes and turned away. I didn’t care what she, thought.

We walked to the air hockey table with Noah’s arm around me and Chris winking over my shoulder. I wasn’t complaining.





Noah



I SAT THROUGH another un-insightful English Literature lesson, bored out of my mind. We had yet to leave the classroom in my two weeks in mainstream school. Learning wasn’t just about reading from textbooks.

Scarlett sat beside me. I’d made sure to sit next to her enough that now her friends leave a space open for me if I don’t make it to class first. She didn’t seem to have any issue with it.

Unsurprisingly, we were reading Shakespeare. What I didn’t understand was once we’d finished Romeo and Juliet we’d be watching the film. It was as if the teachers had given up.

Imogen turned around and said, “Movies and arcade tonight?”

“I do hope your interruption to the lesson has something to do with the Montague’s and Capulet’s, Miss Forest,” Mr Stevenson said.

Imogen turned back, scowling and muttered, “Sorry, sir.”

“You want to come tonight, too?” Scarlett whispered when Mr Stevenson went back to whatever he was doing at his desk.

“I thought that maybe we could do something together instead.”

She blinked three times before replying, “We went together last time.”

“I know, but everyone was there, too.”

Scarlett was awful at concealing how she felt. Her eyes widened a fraction, and her posture lifted. “What do you want to do?”

“I’d like to take you on a walk.”

“A walk?”

“Yes,” I replied smiling. So far we’d not spent time alone, her friends were always with us. I needed to get her alone. “I promise you’ll enjoy it.”

She turned her nose up. “Doubt it but I’ll go.”

Of course she would. “Great, I’ll pick you up at four to give you time to change after school.”

Nodding her head, she went back to reading. It was obvious that she didn’t want to walk, but she did want to spend time with me. I needed to be able to get her to do things.

The bell rang, signalling lunchtime. I closed the book, which I’d already read when I was nine and put it in my bag. “You hungry?” I asked Scarlett as we left the classroom.

“Starving. I’m getting chips today for sure.”

“You know they’re cooked in a lot of oil don’t you?”

“Yep,” she replied.

That was another thing I didn’t understand. Far too many people didn’t care about what they put inside their body. They ate things they knew were bad for them.

“What’re you having? Another salad?”

“Probably,” I replied. It was about the only thing I knew wasn’t crawling with chemicals and additives. “It’s nice, you should try it.”

She halted. “You think I need to swap chips for a salad?”

“What the hell, Noah?” Imogen snapped. “How dare you call her fat!”

“What? I never called her fat.” I turned to Scarlett. “You know that’s not what I meant.” She frowned, and I panicked. Touching her arm, I smiled. “Come on, you don’t think that’s what I was saying. There’s not one part of you that needs to change. I was just talking on a health level, not weight loss.”

“Scarlett, come with me,” Imogen said, glaring at me.

“Why does she need to take you away? I’ve explained the misunderstanding,” I said, stroking Scarlett’s forearm with my thumb.

“It’s fine, Im, I know what he meant.”

“Seriously? I know you’re not used to a lot of attention from a boy, but this is ridiculous.”

Scarlett shrank and bit the inside of her lip. I wanted bite back and tell Imogen exactly what I thought of her, but that probably wouldn’t do me many favours with Scarlett.

“I think maybe you should go and find Bobby and Chris before you hurt your best friend’s feelings even more,” I said.

“This is a joke. Why are you letting him walk all over you?” Imogen said.

“I’m not walking all over her, Imogen, you are.”

She held her hands up. “Whatever.”

I waited until she left to say, “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” she replied. “Think she’ll talk to me again anytime soon?”

“Honestly, I think she’s the one that should be worrying about that. She had no right to talk to you that way.”

Scarlett shrugged. “She gets like that sometimes.”

I gritted my teeth and let go of her arm. Why didn’t she stand up for herself more?

Natasha Preston's books