It Takes One to Know One
Chapter Three –
"So, Rhea. How did you like your first class?" I could hear Rachel making small talk, but I was trying to block her out. Which was really hard considering her voice pierced my ears like I was being stabbed with a very dull pencil every time she said something. This new school thing was bogus. I wish this was a dream that I could wake up from. Then I would go call all my friends and tell them about that weird dream I had where I moved halfway across the country. They would laugh and tell me how ridiculous my dreams were and we'd plan to go do something amazing.
"Rhea? Hello, did you hear me?" Rachel asked waving her hand in front of my eyes. I clenched my teeth together. Nope, that shrill voice could definitely not be a dream.
"It was all right," I muttered. The truth was everyone treated me like I was an alien. Back in Kansas I had been the furthest thing from a social butterfly – more like a social moth, actually – but I didn't get stared at like I was some freak of nature. I had friends. I had a LOT of friends actually. But somehow I knew this new school wasn't going to be like my last one; far from it. I looked over at Rachel. She was still talking to me, but I had no clue what she was talking about. Suddenly, I felt extremely guilty. Here Rachel was, trying to be my friend – or at least trying to make me feel welcome – and all I could think about was how she was a hussy. I had no right to judge her like that. I didn't even know her.
She was laughing at something she said and was looking at me for approval. I gave her the best smile I could muster to make her feel better. She smiled back and laughed a little more.
"You're lucky you didn't have to wear your uniform the first day you were here. Now people know who you really are," she said, making a face at the plaid skirt she was sporting.
"I'd much rather be wearing that. If I was, I wouldn't feel so out of place," I replied. She shrugged and snatched the schedule that was in my hand.
"You have theater next? Lucky. My parents wouldn't let me take a fun elective." She huffed and gave me back my schedule.
I raised my eyebrows, "What do you take instead?"
"AP Psychology. They're getting all pissed off at me because I have an 89 in it." She rolled her eyes. I stared at her for a few seconds. Wow, was that a slap in the face, or what? She definitely didn't look like the type to take psychology, especially advanced placement psychology. And there I was, taking theater! She probably thinks I'm stupid.
"Geeze," I whistled, "If I was taking that class, I'd probably be failing."
She waved her hand as if swatting a fly away. "Probably not, it's pretty easy. I heard it's the same as psychology – we just go at a faster pace." She rolled her eyes. "Plus, Dr. Caron is a complete moron. I've learned more from the PE teacher than from him."
I snorted a reply as we headed to the theater. When we reached it, I thanked Rachel and walked in. Well, at least I tried to walk in. Unfortunately for me 'walk' means trip and 'try' means fail. You can imagine what happened next. And, well, if you can't, you're just an idiot.
Let's just say falling on your ass right before you meet a large group of people for the first time probably doesn't make for a good first impression, but hey, I like being dramatic.
So as I scrambled to get on my feet again, it wasn't a surprise that a few – okay, more like everyone – stopped their conversations to look at the big haired freak that had shrieked at the top of her lungs for no apparent reason. I gave a weak laugh. When no one chose to laugh with me, I cleared my throat and walked to an empty seat near the stage. I reached into my messenger bag and pulled out my notebook and a pen. Feeling the burning gazes at me, I feverishly began write in my notebook, hoping everyone would stop staring at me.
"Hey," someone whispered in my ear.
You'd think I'd learnt the whole 'don't shriek' lesson. But, come on now, it's me we're talking about. So I sat there, screaming my head off for a good five seconds before I realized who was sitting next to me. I clamped my mouth shut and glared at him.
"You!" I said as if I'd get a prize for realizing who was sitting next to me. Sed raised an eyebrow.
"Yes, me! Loved watching your face hitting the floor, by the way. It made my day, really." He settled himself in next to me. I glared at the arm he placed on the back of my chair, but he didn't notice; he was too busy looking down at my notebook. He picked it up with the hand that wasn't messing with my hair. I tugged my locks out of his reach and put them across my shoulder. He only started kneading my back instead.
"This is actually pretty good," he mused, more to himself then to me. He was looking at a picture I had drawn the night before of my newly moved in house. He started to turn the page, but at that moment I remembered exactly what else I had drawn last night. Quick as a rabbit, a snatched the notebook right before he could see the picture of himself that I had sketched. "Hey," he whined as I put the notebook back in my bag and zipped it up.
"My drawings are personal. I don't just show them to anyone," I said, pushing my bag away from him when I saw his eyes narrow at it, like he was going to make a grab for the drawings.
His eyes widened like a little kid in a candy store. "Oh, like porn." He nodded in understanding. I gave him a disgusted look. But before I could say anything he said, "It's okay. As a fellow artist, I understand. I, too, sometimes draw naked women. Maybe we could sketch eachother sometime?" He looked at me hopefully.
Maybe I should just wear a continuous glare on my face? "First, you're not a woman. At least. . . I hope not. Second, what are you even doing here?" I asked, turning in my seat to get a better look at him. The sudden movement didn't affect the little message he was giving me. "And will you STOP with the touching?" I move to smack his arm, but before I could, he'd already moved it.
"I happen to be in this class," he said defensively, "and you never answered my question."
"What - ? Oh, you mean about sketching eachother? No, I don't think so."
"But, why?" He pouted. "Isn't my body nice enough for you?" He slid his un-tucked shirt up; exposing probably the most well defined abs I'd ever seen. Which isn't really saying much, considering I'd only ever seen my cousins abs when we went to the pool, during the summer together. But anyway, back to reality; Sed, practically flashing me like those girls at Mardi Gras when you give them beads - except Sed wasn't a girl, and the only beads I had were the ones on my bracelet and if he thought I was giving him that he was crazy – and me, almost about to faint from heat stroke.
Blood rushed to my face as I noticed people looking at us. "For God sake, Sed. Put your shirt down before someone thinks you're a slut."
He barked a laugh, but let his shirt fall. "I can have my room ready by six, come over then." Before I could reply, he got up and walked over to a few guys standing on the other side of the stage.
I huffed. Somebody just needs to massage that boy's forehead with a brick. I mean, why doesn't he just lie down IN FRONT of the oncoming train?
Right as I was about to go up to Sed and give him a piece of my mind, a short bald man burst through a side door to the theater. I squeaked and shrank down in my seat. Crap, why had I told my mom I didn't need the mace when she offered? I mean, I just KNEW I would accidentally spray myself in the face, but at least I would have had some protection.
I looked around. No one else seemed to be frightened that a big, burly man, possibly wielding hand guns, just stormed into the theater.
"Alright kids. You know the drill; fill in the first three middle rows of the theater. For God sake, Mr. Stevens, put that quirt gun away before I have to take it away," he sighed, glaring at one of the guys Sed was hanging with. I guessed he had to be the teacher by the way everyone was listening to him. Picking up my bag, I trudged over to the middle seats. I wanted to avoid sitting anywhere near Sed, so I parked my tush in the first row.
The girl sitting next to me eyed me suspiciously. I lifted an eyebrow. Geeze, what did she think I was going to do, steal her purse? Noticing my raised eyebrow, she lifted her nose at me and turned to a guy sitting next to her. Rolling my eyes, I looked to the other person that sat next to me. He sat with an ankle propped up on his knee. He was resting with his head in his right hand looking utterly bored. He noticed me looking at him and shook his head a bit, getting out of his daydream.
"Oh, sorry. I wasn't talking out loud, was I?" When I said no, he smiled and continued, "Oh, good. Sometimes I do and I don't even realize it - usually when I'm thinking about something that's pissed me off recently."
I had to laugh at that. I shook the hand he offered me and smiled. "My name's Rhea," I said lamely.
"Trox Chambers at your service, Mademoiselle." He lifted an imaginary top hat and gave a small bow. Finally, someone who knew how to treat a lady.
He looked down at my clothes, which were definitely not part of the dress code. "Just transfer?"
Before I could say anything, Mr. Simons – I looked at my schedule to find out his name – interrupted.
"Before we can pick up where we left off Friday, I believe we have a new student." He looked over at me. "Could you introduce yourself to the class?"
My heart was beating against my chest at a hundred miles an hour as I stood up in front of the rest of the class, and I cleared my throat to distract myself. Hearing a snicker, I saw Sed hit a guy sitting next to him. Sed looked up at me and our eyes met for a split second. I looked away first, trying to calm the blush that was threatening to enter my cheeks.
"Well, there's nothing really to say. I moved here because my dad got a better job," I shrugged at Mr. Simons, not knowing what else to say.
Prompting me he said, "Do you like it here? Have you made any friends yet?"
He made the questions seem easy enough, but they were actually quite agonizing. I chewed on them for a few seconds before answering, "If by 'like' you mean 'hate', and by, 'friends' you mean 'no one', then, yes."
Mr. Simons looked at me strangely, before, to my surprise, he busted out laughing. "I like you, kid," he roared, coming up to slap me on my shoulder. Wincing, I went back to my seat.
"I hope we can all make. . ." Mr. Simons glanced at me.
Rubbing my back, I filled in the blank. "Rhea."
"Make Rhea feel at home." He clasped his hands together. "Now, I'd like you, you, and you to come up and play emotional replay." He said, pointing at several random people.
For the next hour I watched and laughed at the funny and awkward performances that everyone got a chance to experience.
Maybe this wasn't going to be so bad.
"You like Mr. Simons?" Trox said, coming up to stand next to me. Having just come out of Theater, I was more than a little flustered. Every time someone went on stage, Mr. Simons laughed, no matter how horribly unfunny that persons performance was. He would practically have a seizure from cackling, then, when the person was done, Mr. Simons would jump from his seat, clapping widely and shout, "Clap for them!"
I turned halfway to look up at him. "Oh, uh, yeah. He's okay. A little loud though. . ." I trialed off. Sed was leaning against the wall outside of the theater, staring at me. I glared at him as we walked past.
"Well, that was an interesting . . . exchange," Trox said when we had turned the corner. I looked up at him. He was staring at me, his eyebrow raised with a questioning look. "Are you two, like, secretly dating, or what?" He continued when I didn't say anything.
"I just moved here, Trox. I hardly know Sed." I replied, haughtily.
"But you've met him before, right…?"
Sighing, I stopped walking. Trox did too. "He's my neighbor. And my father's boss's son. So, it's kinda hard to steer clear of him," I narrowed my eyes at him. "Why do you want to know so badly?"
He blinked. "No reason, I was just wondering. I mean, you two seemed pretty close over in that corner, before class started."
Okay. . . This was getting a little awkward. It seemed that Trox was hitting on me. . . only in a stalkerish, if-I-can't-have-you-no-one-will way. I mean, Trox was pretty attractive. His blonde hair was gelled into short spikes. His eyes seemed dull, lazy even. Somehow, that kind of weirded me out. I took an unintended step back and coughed when Trox raised his eyebrows at me. I laughed nervously. Slowly, in case Trox went all ninja on me, I continued walking down the hall. I really didn't know where I was going, but by the rush of the other people, I guessed the cafeteria.
The lunch room was no spectacle. The food just might have been the grossest thing I had ever seen in my life. I looked down at it with suspension. Supposedly, it was an enchilada, but it looked more like someone had eaten some type of bread, meat, and cheese, barfed it up, and decided to torture people by making them eat it.
"Rhea!" Someone yelled and barreled into me. That someone happened to be Rebecca. I regained my balance, only to lose it again when Rebecca hugged me. I patted her shoulder awkwardly; hugs were just not my thing. She pulled away and, with an exasperated gasp, said, "How do you like your classes? Is everyone being nice to you? Because if they're not, I'll kick their ass."
"Okay. . . I didn't know anyone could talk that fast."
Laughing, she led me to an empty table. "But really, like any of your classes?"
"Well. . ." I played with a piece of my hair to distract myself. "They're alright. Nothing amazing. I liked the classes I had in Kansas better. But I've only had two so far; I'll probably like the others better," I added quickly.
"You'll get used to them." She stretched her hand towards me. "Can I see your schedule?" Nodding, I searched for it in my backpack and handed it to her.
She looked at me quizzically "You have theater second period?" I already knew where she was headed and nodded my head in misery.
"So. . . Sed's in your class?" Her lips were already rising in the corners. In less then five seconds, she would be laughing her ass off at my expense.
Again, I nodded.
It actually wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be. Although, falling on the ground was a bit much.
"He's. In. Your. Class?" She heaved out through breaks in the laughter. I sneered at her. At least people were looking at her strangely. That almost made up for it.
"And I suppose Trox is in your class, too?" She laughed out.
Now, I was just going to kill her.
wow. it's been, what? six months since i updated?
so sorry about that kiddies. i've been busy with school.
and... i just lost inspiration.
but, hazzah! i found it again after watching kiki's delivery service.
hahaha, yeah. i know. i'm a freak.
anywayyy, thank you for the reviews last chapter.
tell me if you like this. :D
btw, terribly sorry for the grammar mistakes. i'm horrible at shit like that