Ch. 6 An Unexpected Reality Check
Mom used to say, "Celeste, if you don't learn patience, you'll end up in trouble and drag me in with you!"
I have to say, mom left me, but I still haven't learnt the lesson she was trying to teach.
I believe— if you want something, then you should barrel towards it with all the speed you can muster. How else can you know that you did everything you could?
Patience is a luxury for the privileged. And so, here I am—sitting in a seat in the middle of the classroom in Advanced Math, with an empty one on both sides, for Marcus to choose from.
This winter break was simultaneously the longest and the shortest I've ever had. Between homework assignments, three part-time jobs and no friends, my brain feels fried.
I don't remember ever feeling this bored before hanging out with Marcus. It was the worst luck that we didn't exchange phone numbers.
Maybe Chris would've given it to me if I asked—but I couldn't. What we shared in Radcliffe was too beautiful—too private.
The bell rings the start of day and my leg won't stop dancing.
He'll be here soon.
Mr. Rodney walks in, and Marcus enters right behind him.
I raise a hand in greeting. He just nods. His lips lift in a slight smile before he walks right past me, like I don't exist.
My eyes follow him as he takes a seat next to someone I don't know, way in the back.
He never once took a seat in the back in the previous semester.
He's trying to get away from me, isn't he?
Were my feelings too obvious?
I turn back to Mr. Rodney and for the rest of the class, I keep my eyes trained to the front.
My throat burns with tears I can barely hold in, but I refuse to shed them.
I'm an idiot for thinking anything could come from a momentary connection.
I don't remember what Mr. Rodney taught us today. The moment the class ends, I start packing up my books.
It's best I leave as quickly as possible.
"How was your break?" I would know that voice anywhere.
My fingers tighten on the books, hovering above my open bag. I take a moment to compose myself and arrange my face into a slight smile.
"Fine. Yours?"
"Good." He looks around awkwardly, like he's looking for something to say—or perhaps—an excuse to leave without offending.
My heart sinks to my toes. So that's how it's going to be.
I drop the books I was holding into my bag, zip it shut and shoot up.
"Well, that's me. I have to get to my next class. Bye."
He nods, and looks relieved.
I turn and walk away.
—-----------------
The whole day passes by in a daze.
For the life of me, I can't remember anything we did post lunch.
I remember going to lunch before Christopher's group generally arrives and passing them by just as they were entering.
It's the first time I kept my head lowered. It hurt.
The gravel crunches under my feet as I cross the parking lot towards the gate on the far end. It's so much closer to the bus-stop that'll take me to my part-time job.
Christopher's group is standing around his new car, ooh-ing and ah-ing. Except, I don't spot him or Madison among them.
I shrug and carry on.
"Hey diner-girl." A voice pipes up behind me. Loudly.
I pause midstep—before continuing on my way. I don't have the energy to engage with these losers today.
"Don't you know not to ignore your betters by now?"
I turn around, annoyed. "What do you want, Colt?"
This guy has been coming into the diner every day since last week. Rich kid thinks his daddy's money gives him the right to treat service workers badly.
"Just wanted to remind you—I've got my eyes on you. One more mistake, and I'll get you fired."
He grins at his lackeys, who laugh like it's the funniest joke ever spoken.
"Thanks for letting me know. I'll be sure to spit in your food next time." I smirk at him and start forward.
Suddenly, he grabs my arm and pulls me back.
"What did you say?"
"Let me go."
"And if I say I don't want to?"
"I'll say I really don't care what you want. Let go if you don't want to regret it."
I tug on my arm, trying to dislodge him. He has a surprisingly tight grip.
It's going to bruise.
I'm not one to put up with this nonsense.
"Last chance. Go find someone else to jerk off to. I. AM. NOT. INTERESTED."
He stares at me like I've grown two heads. His smile transforms into a grimace. He pulls me closer—and I'm done.
I lift my leg and knee him in the groin.
He goes down fast. The crowd gathered around us takes a step back, and I'm just turning away when his lackeys grab me. They hold me firmly in place while their leader recovers on the ground.
He gets up furious.
He stomps towards me and lifts his hand. My eyes close.
I tense myself in involuntary anticipation of pain that never comes.
I slowly open my eyes to find Colt's hand held in a death grip by Marcus. He looks—terrifying.
"You know," his voice is soft. "This is a public space. Most everyone has caught you on camera bullying a girl. What do you think will happen when it goes viral and reaches the Vice-Chancellor?"
Colt blinks up at him. Marcus is a head taller than him, and clearly way more muscular.
"Why don't you save yourself the trouble and walk away?"
Colt looks around and grits his teeth. Cell phones flash around us as our fellow students take pictures and videos.
He jerks his hand away, gestures to his lackeys, who drop me to the ground like a sack of potatoes and leave with him.
Jerks.
I straighten my skirt, trying to cover the scratches I've acquired on my knees.
"Are you okay?" Marcus squats in front of me, and places his school jacket on my legs.
"Thanks." My voice sounds small even to my own ears.
He lifts me up without effort and grabs my bag where I dropped it.
He's dusting it off when Christopher and Madison push through the crowd.
"What the hell?! Celeste, are you okay?"
I nod. He takes my bag from Marcus and brings it to me.
"Want to come with us? I can drop you home." His voice is quiet. His eyes are sincere, and I almost accept, before my eyes drift to Madison, who is holding Marcus's arms apart, as if checking him for injuries.
My stomach twists in knots and I'm already shaking my head.
"Thanks, but no. I have to get to my part-time job. See you at home?"
He nods. "See you at home."
If patience is a virtue—why does it hurt so damn much?
—-------------------
I wait outside class for Mr. Rodney. I know I'm being a coward. I see Celeste from my spot, sitting in the middle seats—my preferred seats.
I'm not even sure why I'm trying so hard to avoid her. She was kind. Cool even.
I decide to go in and face her, but Mr. Rodney beats me to it.
I step in with him and Celeste's smile nearly stops me in my tracks. She raises a hand in greeting.
I can see that she's kept seats open for me, but the jerk that I am, I walk past her.
The moment I sit down, I know I've made a mistake. Celeste doesn't look back once, and I feel like a total douche bag.
I walk up to her desk and ask her about her holidays, but it's really awkward now.
Shit.
I resolve to greet her at lunch. It's our ritual, after all.
We're just entering the cafeteria when I spot her leaving. She doesn't look our way.
Was it deliberate, or just a co-incidence?
The rest of the day passes uneventfully. Madison keeps me engaged in all our classes and I soon forget about Celeste.
"Did you know Christopher bought a new car this break?" Court's voice calls to me as we're leaving.
"Really?"
"Yeah, his dad said it's an early eighteenth birthday present. Wanna check it out?"
"Yeah, lets go."
We mill around his car, Court regaling us with the stats while we wait for Christopher and Madison to join us.
Madison had an appointment with Prof. Winston and Chris was running late.
I hope they hurry. I have a tough assignment from Advanced Math that's due tomorrow.
A commotion on the other side of the lot draws our attention.
"Yeah, that girl, Celeste—she's fighting with Colt and his lackeys! I don't believe it. I heard they have her pinned—"
I'm moving before I've fully registered what's being said.
I push past the crowd to find the leader—Colt—rising from the ground, eyes red with fury and tears.
Celeste is held down, but that girl has more fire than is good for her. She refuses to back down.
Colt raises his hand to strike her, and I cut through the rest of the crowd to grab his hand.
It's only when I've talked him down, and am squatting in front of Celeste, covering her with my jacket that it hits me.
This could have escalated fast. I got lucky.
If I'd ended up in a brawl with these guys, I could've lost my scholarship—worse—I could've gotten expelled.
Doesn't she know how much trouble she could get in?
I lift Celeste up before grabbing her bag.
I'm just dusting her bag when Christopher and Madison find us. Chris grabs her bag from me and rushes to her.
Madison rushes to me, eyes full of concern. Guilt settles in my gut, at having made her worry.
"Are you alright?" She grabs my arms and spreads them open, checking me for any injuries.
"Are you insane? You could've gotten hurt! Why would you risk everything for a thug like her!"
Sure, I've seen her fight before... But "thug" seems harsh.
I open my mouth to explain but the concern in Madison's eyes has me snapping it shut.
I shrug helplessly.
She shakes her head and drops my arms. "Marcus Holden, you should look after yourself. You're important to me."
A blush creeps up my neck and my heart skips a beat.
"Sorry," I mumble. She pouts prettily before it dissolves into a sweet smile.
"Come on. Let's go back to the others." Chris joins us.
I glance back once—but Celeste is long gone.
I sigh.
One thing's for certain—she's dangerous. And if I'm not careful, I'll end up drowning with her.