3. Izzy
3
IZZY
My last first day of school.
It feels weird to say that when everyone else is getting ready for university, but I know it’s the truth. Even after spending my afternoon yesterday on the treadmill, as if I could outrun my own thoughts, I know I won’t be going to university. So this is it. My last first day.
I woke up early today so I could get a quick workout before breakfast, but I lost track of time now, and I’m late to meet the girls. I run back to my room to avoid bumping into the other kids as they walk to the dining hall for breakfast. My legs were already on fire when I left the gym, and now it feels like they’re about to give out.
When I make it to my room, Amelia and Chloe stand outside, waiting for me.
“You have five minutes, or we’re leaving you,” Amelia says. “I don’t want them to run out of pancakes before we get there.”
I push open my door, rushing inside as they follow behind me and sit on the edge of my bed.
“Why didn’t you call me?” I complain, throwing myself into the bathroom for a quick shower.
One of them replies, but it’s hard to hear over the running water and the pounding in my ears as I try to catch my breath. I finish up, regretting that I didn’t leave myself enough time to wash and dry my hair. I wrap a towel around myself and spray some dry shampoo on my hair to make it look less like a bird’s nest before I leave the bathroom.
“One minute,” Chloe singsongs, checking an imaginary watch on her wrist.
I grab my uniform from where it’s laid out on my bed, tugging at my skirt that Amelia is half sitting on. She stands up and passes it to me, and I go back into the bathroom to get changed. But of course, because I am the luckiest girl in the world, I end up ripping a hole in my tights in my fight to get them on. I take them off with a groan of frustration, throwing them on the floor as a problem for future me.
I glance at myself in the mirror, adjusting the collar of my white shirt so it’s sitting properly above my navy jumper. I run a comb through my hair, doing my best to tackle it into a ponytail as I hear the girls moving around in my room. I will not let them choose pancakes over me. I pull a few blonde strands out to frame my face like Violet taught me to.
I’m still getting used to this new hair colour. When Isaac and Violet got back from their date night a few weeks ago and saw what I had done, all Isaac did was sigh, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose under his glasses. Meanwhile, Violet stepped in to save me. I didn’t exactly do a great job bleaching it, but she helped me to fix it, turning it into a more natural blonde than the bright yellow I’d ended up with.
I open the bathroom door, and they’re both standing there, arms folded across their chests and no expression on their faces.
“Let’s go!” I smile at them sheepishly.
They stare back at me, completely straight-faced, until Amelia sputters out a laugh. It has a domino effect, and then we’re all giggling.
“I could not keep that up any longer,” Amelia says as I grab my bag and we leave my room.
The three of us make our way to breakfast, arms linked as we manifest pancakes and our usual table still being available. I silently hope that Ryan won’t be there, too. I don’t have the energy to deal with him on an empty stomach. I’ve managed to avoid seeing him so far, but it’s only a matter of time, considering we’re in the same homeroom.
We were only together for a few months, but for the entire time, it felt like he cared more about what our relationship looked like to others than about me. After spending so much time with Isaac and Violet, I realised how wrong our relationship was.
Luckily, our table is empty when we enter the dining hall, and the buttery smell of pancakes hits my nose. We all lean our heads back at the same time, silently thanking whatever higher power graced us with our favourite breakfast food.
“I’ll grab the table,” Chloe says.
“Pancakes and berries with apple juice?” I ask, confirming her usual order. She nods, and Amelia and I set off to join the queue as Chloe goes to our table. We load our trays up with stacks of berry-topped pancakes, a few slices of toast, and scrambled eggs before making our way over.
We’re quiet as we eat, and I hadn’t realised how hungry I was until all the food was in front of me. Once our plates are emptied and our stomachs stuffed, we lean back in our chairs. We’re cutting it close to being late, but we'll be fine as long as we leave here before the warning bell rings in a couple of minutes.
“Are we doing anything after school today? Chloe asks after taking a sip of juice.
“Movie?” I suggest, patting my stomach and wishing I’d worn a skirt that’s a little looser.
“Can we watch something other than Scream ?” Amelia says, lolling her head in my direction.
“It’s a classic!” I nudge her side with my elbow and she shakes her head, trying to hide her smile.
I don’t know where my love for horror movies came from, but they’ve been my favourite for a while now. I love the formula of them, trying to figure out who the bad guy is and who the final girl will be. It’s fun to see how the story will play out. However, I know if I were ever in a horror movie, I’d be the person who dies by falling over a tree stump when the killer is nowhere near.
“Okay, but can we watch something else after? The mask still freaks me out,” Chloe shudders.
“Don’t worry, my angel, I’ll protect you.”
I pretend to gag as Chloe’s boyfriend, Josh, drops himself into the empty seat next to her, slinging his arm around her shoulder.
“Bub, I told you I’d see you in homeroom.” I don’t think she realises that her voice gets higher when she speaks to him.
“I know, but I couldn’t help myself.” He kisses her on the cheek and she grabs his face to turn it. Amelia and I take that as our cue to exit, leaving our trays on the table to clear once they’ve finished acting like they haven’t seen each other in ten years.
“Something is wrong with them,” I say as we start walking toward the main building.
“It’s kind of sweet,” Amelia says quietly. “I wish I had someone like that.”
She keeps talking, but I struggle to hear her over the voice in my head that wishes I had that, too.
For a second, I thought I had it with Ryan. On paper, we should have worked. We’re both decently attractive. He’s captain of the football team, I’m on the field hockey team, and we’ve been in the same class since Year Seven. All those points made me think we were meant to be, so I think we forced it to happen.
But over time, I realised he was putting on an act, pretending to be the person he thought I wanted him to be. Everything was for show so he could look cool in front of his friends and whoever else was around us. I would say I started losing feelings for him, but I don’t know if I ever had any.
I still want the all-encompassing love I imagine for myself, but for now, I just need to get through this year and focus on figuring out what I’m doing once it ends.
By the time we make it to homeroom, it’s already full of our classmates. We take our seats at the same desks we’ve sat at for the past few years, the only exception being Chloe. Last year, she decided to sit next to Josh, leaving the seat next to mine empty.
Speak of the devils, they enter the classroom holding hands, Mrs. Harper following right behind them.
“Settle down,” she says as everyone scrambles to sit properly in their chairs. It’s only then I notice there’s someone next to her.
He’s taller than her, probably six foot, if I had to guess, with straight jet-black hair that seems perfectly styled yet looks effortless. I can’t quite see what his face looks like though because he’s staring down at the ground like he wishes it would swallow him up.
Whispers start up, everyone wondering who the new kid is, and I’d be doing the same if I had someone next to me to talk to. Instead, I just watch him, catching the way his fingers are digging into his backpack strap slung across one shoulder. He keeps his head ducked low as if it’ll make him appear smaller, make him invisible. Mrs. Harper clears her throat, and the room goes silent.
“Class, this is Noah Park. He’ll be joining us this year.”
The murmuring starts again, but Noah keeps his head down, pretending that he can’t hear everyone talking about him.
“Noah, why don’t you introduce yourself?” She gestures to the class, a friendly smile on her face that he can’t even see.
I feel sorry for him already. I can only imagine how embarrassing it must be to come to a new school and stand in front of everyone like this. If it happened to me, I’d probably run straight out of the room and possibly flee the country.
“Hi, I’m Noah,” the boy says timidly.
He finally lifts his head and I see his face. His hair falls over his forehead, almost covering his wide eyes that seem to be scanning the whole room for an escape route. His nose is thin, lips fuller on the bottom than the top. I don’t let my mind wander too much. I just got out of a relationship, and I’m not looking for another one. But that doesn’t mean I can’t admire a cute guy when I see one.
Mrs. Harper looks back and forth between him and the class, waiting for something more to happen. When a few awkward seconds pass, and she realises that was his whole intro, she claps her hands together with a tight nod.
“Right, well, there’s an empty seat next to Izzy over there in the corner, so you can take a seat there, Noah.”
At the sound of my name, my eyes snap away from him and go to Mrs. Harper instead. She knows I love having that empty seat, but I guess there’s nowhere else for him to go.
He glances at me for a split second before dropping his head and walking over to me. I do a strange hop in my chair in an attempt to tuck it under the desk.
However, I overestimated, and my stomach presses right against the edge of it. I hold my breath to give myself a little bit more room as Noah shuffles behind me, pulling out the empty chair and sitting down. I move mine back slightly, letting out an exhale that turns into a spluttering cough. I cover my mouth with my arm as the whole class turns to look at me.
“Woooow, and no one wanted to help me?” I joke after I’ve finished coughing up my lungs.
It earns me a small chuckle from my classmates, one of whom tosses me a bottle of water before they face the front again. I take a sip, extremely aware of the boy next to me and the apology I owe him. The whole class was already staring at him, and I made it worse with my coughing fit.
“Sorry. I know you’re probably already tired of everyone looking at you,” I whisper to the side of his face because he hasn’t looked at me once since sitting down.
But now he does, hazel brown eyes staring into mine. The whole world goes silent.
“It’s okay,” he offers with a quirk of his lips that seems like an attempt at a smile. But it looks difficult for him, like he’s having to use all of his energy and effort just for that tiny movement.
“I’m Izzy.”
Even though he already heard my name from Mrs. Harper, I want to introduce myself to him properly. I want a conversation to happen. I want to see what a real smile looks like from him.
“Noah.”
“Well, it’s lovely to meet you, Noah.”
The corners of his mouth lift slightly, a polite gesture telling me he probably doesn’t want to say anything else. But I’m curious about this boy with the sad smile.
“If you need help with anything, let me know.” I try to make my voice as soft as possible.
I know I can be loud at times. Ryan would constantly tell me to lower my voice when I got too excited about something. Looking back, that should have been the first sign that he wasn’t right for me. But I don’t want Noah to be scared of me. It feels like I’m approaching a tiny kitten on the street, and one wrong move will have it spooked and running away.
“Thank you.” His voice is barely above a whisper, and I find myself leaning into him.
This time, his smile is a little brighter, feels more genuine. I’m closer to getting what I want.
I don’t get a chance to say anything else to him, though, because Mrs. Harper is calling my name. The world is loud again. I have no idea what she’s been talking about, so I sit up straighter in my chair and pretend like I do.
“Yes, Mrs. Harper?”
“Do you think you can show Noah around today? You’re in most of the same classes, so it won’t be too much extra effort for you.”
Noah lets out a small sigh that I don’t think he expected me to hear. I don’t take it personally, though. The first day at a new school is always rough and it must be ten times worse for him since we’re in our final year.
“Of course, more than happy to,” I tell her, and I mean it.
I don’t know much about Noah, but from our slightly one-sided conversation, it seems like he could use a friend.
“Wonderful. That’s all from me this morning. Let’s start the year off right and get to first period early.”
She dismisses us, and the room gets louder as everyone starts talking. I take the chance to speak with Noah again.
“Can I see your schedule?” I ask him.
As much as I want to talk to him, he doesn’t seem to want to talk to me. But I don’t want him to feel alone. I was lucky enough to meet my friends on move-in day, and we’ve been stuck to each other ever since.
He rifles through his bag, pulling out a sheet of paper from between two books. It’s perfectly flat, which is what you’d expect, considering we only got them yesterday. Mine, however, is already wrinkled and torn and buried somewhere at the bottom of my bag.
Noah hands it over to me, and I check to see exactly which classes we have together. He’s doing biology and chemistry too, but where I’m taking sports science, he’s taking maths.
“We can work with this. Come with me to bio and chem, and I can drop you off at maths before I go to my class. They’re not too far from each other.” It’s a lie, but he doesn’t need to know that.
I give the paper back to him, worried that my fingers might have created creases in the pristine page, but Noah doesn’t seem to care. He just places it back in his bag between two books and closes it up.
It’s like getting blood from a stone, but I am determined to have one real conversation with him before the end of the day. It feels like a cloak of sadness is weighing him down, and what’s more concerning is how unbothered he seems about it. Why does he seem so used to being sad?
Amelia provides a lucky escape for him as she comes over to talk to me. She has bio with us this morning too, so I guess he’s getting a double escort to his first class.
We start to leave and I tell Noah to follow us, but someone grabs my arm before I can get out of the room. I wrench my arm away from Ryan’s grasp. I’d forgotten all about him once Noah showed up, but of course, he’s here. His brown hair is sticking up all over the place like he couldn’t even be bothered to run a comb through it this morning.
“Why did you block me?” he asks incredulously. He kept texting me while I was at the gym yesterday and so Chloe and Amelia convinced me to finally block him.
“Because I can,” I tell him.
“What does that mean?”
“I wanted to, I could, so I did,” I say, punctuating every other word with a point of my hands.
Amelia loops her arm through mine as a show of support.
“Take a hint, Ryan. She doesn’t want to talk to you,” she says, a simmering annoyance in her voice.
“Well, I want to talk to her.” He speaks like everything he’s saying is something obvious, and I’m the fool for not understanding.
Ryan reaches out to grab my arm again, but I shove past him, tired of his behaviour. We haven’t even made it thirty minutes into the day, and he’s already annoying me. I glance behind me, gesturing with my head for Noah to follow us, and he does.
“I don’t know why you ever went out with him,” Amelia says, her disdain for him clear in her tone.
“I don’t know either,” I tell her, even though I know it was desperation.
My desire to feel wanted overpowered all the other senses that told me he was a bad idea. Even now, the way he speaks to me and grabs me like I’m an object, I can’t believe I was with him for even a second. My stomach drops when I think about how I let myself be treated like that just because I wanted to force a love story for myself.
“Sorry about that,” I say, shifting my attention to Noah and away from the hurt I feel. He must have wanted a quiet morning, and instead, I’ve dragged him into my mess. Maybe I should give up trying to be friends with him. “That’s my ex. He’s been texting me a lot, so I blocked him.”
I know that Noah doesn’t care a single bit about my past relationship, if you can even call it that, but at this point, I’m ranting to anyone who will listen. Unfortunately for them, that’s Amelia and Noah.
“If you see me going near a football player at any point for the rest of my life, I give you permission to yell at me until I come to my senses.”
“I absolutely will,” Amelia says with a nod as she squeezes my arm once.
We say hi to a few of the other girls on the hockey team as we walk through the corridors, and at some point, Noah ends up trailing behind us. He’s probably exhausted of me already, but I don’t want him to feel left out.
“Do you play any sports?” I might as well ask how the weather is. But we could share some common ground here.
He hesitates, opening and closing his mouth like he’s forgotten how to speak, until he finally says, “Football.”
“Ah.”