Outside In - Part 5

That night I sat alone at the kitchen table watching a rerun of CSI Miami eating a plate of leftover lasagne that I had made the night before.  Although I often found myself alone in the large quiet house my parents owned, I could never get used to the silence that always surrounded me.  I remembered back when I was 6 or 7 years old when I would come home to the sound of my mother’s voice humming along to a song on the radio that played softly in the background; the smell of fresh baked apple pie or chicken cooking away in the background.  The sound of her voice and the smell of food melded perfectly in my memory and brought tears to my eyes when I realized how much I missed those times. 

Later, as I got older and her condition worsened, the sounds I was welcomed home with were more frequently she and my father arguing, her screaming at the top of her lungs and my fathers voice slowing rising from controlled patience to angry exasperation. Sometimes there would be no sound at all, my mother may have locked herself in the bedroom and my father sat brooding in his favourite leather armchair.  I’m not sure which I hated most but both were better than this.

After my mother was institutionalized, being diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia, my father had to take a job that required him to travel most of the time.  He assured me that this was a promotion for him and in order to keep our home he needed to accept.  Of course I believed him, but a part of me, usually the part of me that takes over when my mother has had a particularly bad day, believed that he left me with the short end of the stick; taking care of the house and my mom while he got to travel all over North America.  It was horrible to think that way, I know, I love my mother more than anything in the world and I am grateful for any time I get to spend with her but I just wish that I didn’t feel so alone all the time.

The harsh ring of the telephone sliced into my thoughts.  This was the call I was expecting; Mr. Findlay, my sociology teacher calling to find out why I attended every class but his today.  I took a deep breath and prepared my ‘My parents are out of town...’ speech.  I muted the television volume and picked up the phone.

”Hello?”  I said as politely as I could manage.  Adults always respond better when you establish right away that you are respectful of their authority.

“Sam?”  The male voice on the line did not sound at all like Mr. Findlay.

“Yes, whos this?”  I asked defensively.  I’ve had to fend off so many sales calls in the past that this was my reaction to anyone whose voice I didn’t recognize.

“It’s Nick.”  He sounded a little offended that I didn’t recognize his voice which surprised me.  I opened my mouth to ask him what he wanted when I suddenly realized that my mouth was completely dry.  I swallowed hard and licked my lips to try and get some saliva flowing but nothing worked, I was dry as a bone.

“From school.  You’ve forgotten me already huh?  I thought I made better impression than that.”  His voice had lightened now, dripped with amusement. “Are you there?”

I reached over quickly and grabbed the glass of water that sat on the table next to my plate.  I took a gulp and finally spat out “Yeah, sorry.  I think something’s wrong with the phone.”  I lied.

“Oh, well I can hear you fine now.” He assured.

There was another silence and I was wondering how to ask him what he wanted without sounding rude when he finally spoke again.

“I guess you’re wondering why I called?”  He asked.

“Oh yeah.  Did you need something?”

“Well actually, yeah.  A favour really.”  He admitted sheepishly. “Mel was telling me that you guys get together on Sundays to go over the past weeks math lessons.  She says you’re really a great help.”  He paused.

“Well I guess. We just go over old homework and quizzes, it helps her prepare for tests.”  I was completely at a loss as to why we were discussing this but found myself very curious to find out what favour he could possibly want from me.

“Mel said you might not mind if I joined you.  Math’s my worst subject and my dad, he’s the principal right, he gets on my case about my marks.  What do you think?”

I think my heart dropped straight into my belly.  I think that he seemed determined to manoeuvre his way into my life. I tried to picture him sitting there on the leather sofa, his book open on his lap.  There was no way, I told myself, that I would be able to concentrate with him here.  The thought of him being here set my heart racing at panic mode; shocking me with its intense reaction. My brain was screaming NO! NO! Just tell him NO! but my mouth did something wholly unpredictable.

“Sure, if Mel says its fine with her then I’m okay with it.”  I sounded so cool, so laid back.  My voice in no way reflected the turmoil that was going on inside my head and my body.  My hands were shaking so much that I had to grip the receiver with both just to keep it steady.  He’s not asking you to marry him Sam!  I told myself but he may as well have been.  My Sundays with Mel had been a tradition that started after my mom went into the hospital, I was finally able to have a friend over without fear of her watching my mother carry on a conversation with herself or yell and scream about nothing in particular. So every Sunday I invited Mel over under the guise of tutoring her in math, our friendship grew out of those sessions and now I’ve just given permission for a stranger to take part.  It was too late to take it back, no matter how badly I wanted to.  All I could do was hope that he would lose interest soon or, if this was a plot to get closer to Mel, he would hurry up and ask her out.

“Thanks Sam, Mel wasn’t sure you’d be comfortable with it.”  He explained.

“No problem.  I better go, dinners getting cold.”  I said, Mel knew full-well I would find it more difficult to say no to him than her.  I was going to have to have a talk with her.

“Yeah okay.  See you tomorrow.  Oh and Sam?”  He added quickly.

I cringed inwardly; the only thing I wanted more than to get off the phone with him was to not have had this conversation happen at all.

“Yeah?”

“Mr. Findlay was away today so I don’t think hell be calling about you missing last period.”  I could hear the smile in his voice; he seemed please to be delivering me good news.

“Oh, okay.  Thanks.”  I twisted the phone cord in between my fingers as the silence stretched on.  The urge to get off the phone with him was very strong but something else was holding me there, something I couldn’t quite understand.

“See you tomorrow Sam.”  He finally said again.  I said goodbye and hung up the phone. The silence of the house enveloped me again and I just stood, frozen in the centre of the kitchen.  What had I just done?  I felt vulnerable, as though Id just left the front door unlocked, open even for anyone to come in.  It was a bad move, I could feel it.



I didn’t sleep at all that night; I tossed and turned as I replayed the days events over in my head.  Dread was already beginning to grow, wrapping like vines around my brain and Sunday was still 5 days away.  I was wide awake early the next morning and by 7:03am I was stepping off the nearly empty bus and crossing the street to the school.  I'd decided that it would be wise to get to school early and maybe get a head start on the reading I was sure would be assigned that day.

The hallways were as empty as the bus had been and my footsteps echoed along the rows of lockers as I hurried toward mine.  It was eerie wandering the deserted hallway, I was used to navigating around herds of other kids who would stand around talking and laughing, getting in everyone else's way, I never imagined I would prefer that to the quiet that now surrounded me.

I dropped my bag on the ground in front of my locker and quickly maneuvered the dial around the padlock.  I shoved the books I wouldn't need until after lunch onto the top shelf and pulled my English binder down and as I did my pencil case slid down of the top shelf and after bouncing off my head it fell to the floor, spewing out my pencils, pens and erasers all over the floor.

"Damn it."  I hissed to myself, apparently I had forgotten to zip it up after my last class.  I bent down and quickly began to gather up the things that had fallen, suddenly grateful that there was no one around to watch me crawl around on the floor.  My gratitude quickly faded however when I heard footsteps coming toward me from the opposite end of the hallway.  I froze for a moment and the tilted my head slightly, allowing my hair to fall over my eyes so that whoever was coming wouldn't be able to tell I was looking at them. 

Through the veil of my hair I could make out the tall lean frame of Nick English as he sauntered casually down the hall. His incredible eyes were look straight at me, the corners of his mouth turned slightly up as he tried not to laugh.  I briefly debated what I should do, I could stand up and abandon my things, feigning indifference or I could just continue what I was doing.  Although I hated the idea of him seeing me - once again - splayed out on all fours, the stubbornness in me refused to let his presence effect my actions.  His presence was, however affecting my body, something I had no control over; my cheeks were still burning, my heart beating frantically faster with every step he took toward me, and I knew my speech would definitely be affected.  Sighing heavily, resigning myself to the inevitable truth that I would never be able to act ‘normal’ around him, I continued to collect my things.

"Need a hand?" I could hear the smile in his voice and refused to look up.  The longer I could avoid looking at him, the better that chances that my flaming cheeks might cool down. 

"Sam?"  He was crouching down now so that his mouth was close to my ear.  The sound of his voice saying my name made me shiver and I hoped he hadn't notice.

I turned my head slightly so that my hair was still covering most of my face and I tried to smile but I’m sure the effect was lost through the curtain of hair. "Nope, I’m good."  I assured him as I reached out to grab what I hoped was the last item that had fallen, my favourite pink pen.

I plopped it back into the case and tried to zip it up but the zipper refused to go.  I could only imagine what I looked like, kneeling there in the middle of the hallway fighting with my baby blue pencil case.  I tugged at it roughly a few more times before Nick's hands suddenly appeared, grabbing the pencil case and gently tugging it away from me.  He stood up and held a hand out toward me; I looked at it for a minute, not sure at first what he wanted me to do.  His smile broadened "I don't bite."  He teased.

I returned his smile and grabbed his hand, an action that immediately sent bolts on electricity coursing through my body.  I fought back the gasp that threatened to burst through my lips and looked up at him.  He still wore the same amused smile, appearing to be unaffected by the physical contact.  I slowly stood with his assistance. 

"Let me give this a shot, I have a knack with this kind of stuff."  He said as he gently coaxed the unruly zipper.  After a few adjustments the zipper slid smoothly shut and he handed it back to me, clearly proud of himself.  I shoved the case in my bag.

"Thanks."  I said as I shut my locker and secured the lock.

"No problem."  He leaned back against the row of lockers, his backpack sliding off his shoulder. “You’re here early.”

"Yeah, I got up early and didn't want to hang around the house."  I admitted.

He studied my face for a moment, a strange look in his eyes that I couldn't read. "I had to ride in with my dad today, mom needed her car."  He rolled his eyes but he didn't really sound angry or annoyed.

I nodded my head and look down at my bag that I was now gripping tightly in my hands; I twisted a loose thread absently around my finger and tried to find something to say to fill the silence.

To my relief, he spoke first. "So do you want to go get some coffee or something before class?"  He asked as he slipped his bag back over his shoulder.

I weighed my options; spend the next 50 minutes in the library completing reading that hadn’t even been assigned yet, and trying not to doze off from the affects of a sleepless night or spend the time trying not to make a fool of myself in front of Nick.  I figured that since he had already witnessed me crawling around on the floor there wasn’t much worse I could do.

“Sure, why not?”  I replied with a shrug sounding cooler than I felt, in fact I could feel heat slowly rising up my neck I quickly second guessed my decision, but seeing no way out of it, I walked through the stairwell door that he was now holding open for me.