Author's note: I'm so sorry for not being to write very much lately, but about 2 weeks ago I finished the chapter so sorry for the delay....Though it's not edited as such, I hope you enjoy it anyway. Ignore my little spelling mistakes or whatever, I'm only human. From here on out, the character view will be changing so try not to get confused and think that the only narrator is Isla cos in this chapter it switches between Isla and Alex.
Chapter 9-
Chapter 9-
Arm, something soft.
Meowing? Cat; Homer. Food. Morning?
“mmmm” I stretched my arms out behind me and rolled over, feeling that soft thing rub against my arm again “Hi, Homer” blinded by blankets; I reached out and ran my fingers through his soft fur, scratching him and stroking him.
“Isla, that’s my head.” Cats don’t talk! I jumped and nearly fell off the bed, twisting and turning in my blanket in shock. Once I got my head out the white sheets, Alex’s blonde hair came into view.
Oh yeah, he stayed the night, didn’t he? I probably woke him up. “You’re not Homer.”
“No, I’m not.” He said amidst a mass of yawns. Homer meowed again and I propped myself up on my elbows- he was circling the legs of the table, rubbing his cheeks against the hard wood.
Alex was lying on his side facing the window, his back was bare and pale against the dim light pouring in from behind the curtains. “What time is it?” he mumbled.
“I don’t know.” I mumbled back.
“Check.” Gughh. I rolled over and blinked as I tried focusing my groggy eyes on the neon digits of the clock on the side-table. It read: Sunday, November 11th 12:47 PM
“It’s nearly 1 O’clock.” I said and he sighed in response. I felt the weight of the bed shift beneath me as he sat up, stretching his arms out above his head then letting his body go limp against the wall behind him. I wiggled my way towards him –wrapped up in my covers looking like a tie-dye caterpillar- and placed my head in his lap. As Alex ran his fingers through my hair, my eyes drooped and I could feel sleep catching up with me again.
It reminded me of when we were little except it would be the other way around; Alex would be the one to fall asleep with his head in my lap and I’d run my fingers through his soft, blonde hair. When we were little it used to be much lighter; an icy blonde. Well, mine was different too but not nearly as beautiful as his. My hair wasn’t scarlet red, as it is now but a deep strawberry blonde –or ginger to put it simply. I’d be made fun of, called all sorts of odd names that the other kids came up with like ‘carrot head’ or ‘rotten-berry’. I got sick of it and about 2 years or so ago I went and bought myself a pack of cheap, cherry-red hair dye from Wal-Mart. When I was done my ‘rotten-berry’ hair looked more like a freshly plucked one. Slowly, the memory blurred and faded out into dreams.
She was curled up beside me, her head resting in my lap. She’d fallen asleep about an hour before I’d dozed off. Her cheeks were flushed and her lips were pale. Is she feeling cold? I slid out from underneath her, cradling her head in my hands then placing it on one of her tie-dye pillows. She shifted herself slightly, curling up like a hedgehog. Her shirt was pulled up revealing her bare stomach and her tattoo of the astrological symbol for Scorpio just by her hip bone on the right -she believes in astrology and karma like others believe in religion. Her quilt was in a bundle at her feet and I stretched it out over her covering her bare legs and stomach. I looked up at the clock, it was already 4.00 PM. Mom’ll be worried. Better head home. I walked towards the table, grabbed a blue ball-point pen from the rack and looked around for a notebook. There was a dark blue one in the corner of the table with a yellow sticker labelled ‘stuff’ stuck to the cover. I flipped it open and it was all just doodles. Typical Isla. I tore a page out from the back and folded it in half then scribbled ‘I didn’t want to wake you up so, thanks for letting me stay last night. Sorry.’ onto it. I walked over to her side table and leaned it against the clock, knowing it’s the first thing she’ll see when she’s up.
I was almost out her bedroom door when I realized I was only in my boxers. I felt the blood rush to my face and awkwardly retrieved my clothes from the bathroom, changed into them then grabbed my phone off the kitchen table and headed out the door.
I opened my wallet and retrieved my keys from the coin pouch then slid them into the keyholes hearing the familiar click of the locks and creak of the rusty hinges as I opened the door.
“Where were you last night, Alex?” it was my dad, he didn’t have any irritation in his voice, just curiosity. He had an apron on and was holding what looked like a burned apple crumble in his oven-mitt hands. I looked at him with my eyebrows raised, a smile playing at my lips. “Oh.” He looked down at the crumble and blushed a little “Don’t ask. Now, where were you?”
We walked into the living room and he placed the burnt desert onto the side table and sank into the chair with a sigh. “I was at Isla’s.” I walked past him ignoring the semi-shocked looked on his face and walked straight into my bedroom. I hadn’t stayed the night at Isla’s house in years and since we weren’t kids any more it’s not that much of a surprise that my dad was shocked. But I know my parents don’t mind, they know Isla’s a good girl, they trust her more than they trust me. So do I –I need her to keep me on the right path, as dramatic as it sounds she is the only one who can do that and…I just need her.
“Hey sweetie, where were you last night?” it was mom but before I could answer she said “actually never mind that, there’s someone at the door for you, someone named Iago? When I answered the door it looked like he was about to have a nervous breakdown, poor kid.”
“Oh?” was my only reaction. I hadn’t seen Iago since I went clean and I didn’t even think he knew where I lived. He was Alyssa’s best friend, well, more like a pet.
I walked through the apartment and hesitated before opening the door to find Iago pacing in the corridor nervously. “Alexander, hi.” He stopped in front of me and smiled his awkward smile then looked down at his hands. He was one of the only people who ever called me Alexander.
He’d grown taller, even taller than me. We’d make fun of him when we were younger, we’d say he’d stay short forever but clearly we were wrong. He was still as skinny as I remembered, his dark brown hair curling at his temples –his blue eyes looking as peculiar as ever on his tan face. Iago was from Spain and he’d moved to live in New York when he was 12 –His parents were both diplomats. We’d crashed into each other on our bikes one day; Alyssa was there too in her pink roller-skates. It was then that the three of us became friends.
“Hey, um. It’s been a while.” We bumped fists and I looked at him and smiled. Instead of smiling back his pale blue eyes were staring intently out the door.
Iago was probably the most awkward and shy person I’ve ever met. It had taken him a week to talk to me, whereas Alyssa had jumped into conversation the second we’d gotten up from our little bike crash. “Why are you here?”
After I said it I realized how rude it sounded and the little panic that crossed Iago’s face made me feel worse. But the panic lasted no more than a second and he cleared his throat and said “What? I –is it that weird to come and see an old friend after th-three years?” I forgot about the accent and the stutter…. He’d only learned how to speak English once he’d come here but he was pretty good at it. It’s just that his strong Spanish accent and stutter meant you had to concentrate on every word to understand him.
“No, it’s not weird at all. It’s just; you’re not usually the type to take initiative.”
He shrugged and smirked “People change, A-alexander. Wanna go for a walk? Catch up, have a s-smoke maybe?”
“Yeah, that sounds good. Just give me a second.” I left the door open and went to my room, changed into a fresh pair of jeans and a clean T-shirt, grabbed my black hoodie and wound a plain white scarf around my neck.
“Mom, I’m heading out with an old friend. I won’t be home too late.” And then I was kicking on my shoes and heading out the door after Iago.
“mmmm” I stretched my arms out behind me and rolled over, feeling that soft thing rub against my arm again “Hi, Homer” blinded by blankets; I reached out and ran my fingers through his soft fur, scratching him and stroking him.
“Isla, that’s my head.” Cats don’t talk! I jumped and nearly fell off the bed, twisting and turning in my blanket in shock. Once I got my head out the white sheets, Alex’s blonde hair came into view.
Oh yeah, he stayed the night, didn’t he? I probably woke him up. “You’re not Homer.”
“No, I’m not.” He said amidst a mass of yawns. Homer meowed again and I propped myself up on my elbows- he was circling the legs of the table, rubbing his cheeks against the hard wood.
Alex was lying on his side facing the window, his back was bare and pale against the dim light pouring in from behind the curtains. “What time is it?” he mumbled.
“I don’t know.” I mumbled back.
“Check.” Gughh. I rolled over and blinked as I tried focusing my groggy eyes on the neon digits of the clock on the side-table. It read: Sunday, November 11th 12:47 PM
“It’s nearly 1 O’clock.” I said and he sighed in response. I felt the weight of the bed shift beneath me as he sat up, stretching his arms out above his head then letting his body go limp against the wall behind him. I wiggled my way towards him –wrapped up in my covers looking like a tie-dye caterpillar- and placed my head in his lap. As Alex ran his fingers through my hair, my eyes drooped and I could feel sleep catching up with me again.
It reminded me of when we were little except it would be the other way around; Alex would be the one to fall asleep with his head in my lap and I’d run my fingers through his soft, blonde hair. When we were little it used to be much lighter; an icy blonde. Well, mine was different too but not nearly as beautiful as his. My hair wasn’t scarlet red, as it is now but a deep strawberry blonde –or ginger to put it simply. I’d be made fun of, called all sorts of odd names that the other kids came up with like ‘carrot head’ or ‘rotten-berry’. I got sick of it and about 2 years or so ago I went and bought myself a pack of cheap, cherry-red hair dye from Wal-Mart. When I was done my ‘rotten-berry’ hair looked more like a freshly plucked one. Slowly, the memory blurred and faded out into dreams.
She was curled up beside me, her head resting in my lap. She’d fallen asleep about an hour before I’d dozed off. Her cheeks were flushed and her lips were pale. Is she feeling cold? I slid out from underneath her, cradling her head in my hands then placing it on one of her tie-dye pillows. She shifted herself slightly, curling up like a hedgehog. Her shirt was pulled up revealing her bare stomach and her tattoo of the astrological symbol for Scorpio just by her hip bone on the right -she believes in astrology and karma like others believe in religion. Her quilt was in a bundle at her feet and I stretched it out over her covering her bare legs and stomach. I looked up at the clock, it was already 4.00 PM. Mom’ll be worried. Better head home. I walked towards the table, grabbed a blue ball-point pen from the rack and looked around for a notebook. There was a dark blue one in the corner of the table with a yellow sticker labelled ‘stuff’ stuck to the cover. I flipped it open and it was all just doodles. Typical Isla. I tore a page out from the back and folded it in half then scribbled ‘I didn’t want to wake you up so, thanks for letting me stay last night. Sorry.’ onto it. I walked over to her side table and leaned it against the clock, knowing it’s the first thing she’ll see when she’s up.
I was almost out her bedroom door when I realized I was only in my boxers. I felt the blood rush to my face and awkwardly retrieved my clothes from the bathroom, changed into them then grabbed my phone off the kitchen table and headed out the door.
I opened my wallet and retrieved my keys from the coin pouch then slid them into the keyholes hearing the familiar click of the locks and creak of the rusty hinges as I opened the door.
“Where were you last night, Alex?” it was my dad, he didn’t have any irritation in his voice, just curiosity. He had an apron on and was holding what looked like a burned apple crumble in his oven-mitt hands. I looked at him with my eyebrows raised, a smile playing at my lips. “Oh.” He looked down at the crumble and blushed a little “Don’t ask. Now, where were you?”
We walked into the living room and he placed the burnt desert onto the side table and sank into the chair with a sigh. “I was at Isla’s.” I walked past him ignoring the semi-shocked looked on his face and walked straight into my bedroom. I hadn’t stayed the night at Isla’s house in years and since we weren’t kids any more it’s not that much of a surprise that my dad was shocked. But I know my parents don’t mind, they know Isla’s a good girl, they trust her more than they trust me. So do I –I need her to keep me on the right path, as dramatic as it sounds she is the only one who can do that and…I just need her.
“Hey sweetie, where were you last night?” it was mom but before I could answer she said “actually never mind that, there’s someone at the door for you, someone named Iago? When I answered the door it looked like he was about to have a nervous breakdown, poor kid.”
“Oh?” was my only reaction. I hadn’t seen Iago since I went clean and I didn’t even think he knew where I lived. He was Alyssa’s best friend, well, more like a pet.
I walked through the apartment and hesitated before opening the door to find Iago pacing in the corridor nervously. “Alexander, hi.” He stopped in front of me and smiled his awkward smile then looked down at his hands. He was one of the only people who ever called me Alexander.
He’d grown taller, even taller than me. We’d make fun of him when we were younger, we’d say he’d stay short forever but clearly we were wrong. He was still as skinny as I remembered, his dark brown hair curling at his temples –his blue eyes looking as peculiar as ever on his tan face. Iago was from Spain and he’d moved to live in New York when he was 12 –His parents were both diplomats. We’d crashed into each other on our bikes one day; Alyssa was there too in her pink roller-skates. It was then that the three of us became friends.
“Hey, um. It’s been a while.” We bumped fists and I looked at him and smiled. Instead of smiling back his pale blue eyes were staring intently out the door.
Iago was probably the most awkward and shy person I’ve ever met. It had taken him a week to talk to me, whereas Alyssa had jumped into conversation the second we’d gotten up from our little bike crash. “Why are you here?”
After I said it I realized how rude it sounded and the little panic that crossed Iago’s face made me feel worse. But the panic lasted no more than a second and he cleared his throat and said “What? I –is it that weird to come and see an old friend after th-three years?” I forgot about the accent and the stutter…. He’d only learned how to speak English once he’d come here but he was pretty good at it. It’s just that his strong Spanish accent and stutter meant you had to concentrate on every word to understand him.
“No, it’s not weird at all. It’s just; you’re not usually the type to take initiative.”
He shrugged and smirked “People change, A-alexander. Wanna go for a walk? Catch up, have a s-smoke maybe?”
“Yeah, that sounds good. Just give me a second.” I left the door open and went to my room, changed into a fresh pair of jeans and a clean T-shirt, grabbed my black hoodie and wound a plain white scarf around my neck.
“Mom, I’m heading out with an old friend. I won’t be home too late.” And then I was kicking on my shoes and heading out the door after Iago.
He’d left a note for me on my desk- It didn’t say when he woke up
or when he left, it was just him apologizing. But why apologize? I’m his best-friend; did he honestly expect me to
send him home like that? It’s not like it was the first time he’d stayed the
night after being a mess. I let out a sigh and stepped into the hot water
that filled my bath tub, lowering my body into it and lying down under a
blanket of lavender-scented bubbles. I scooped up a handful and blew them away,
watching as a few of the larger ones floated upwards, popping before hitting
the ceiling. I scrubbed my body with a sponge and once I got to my arms I
started scrubbing so hard, clearing the foundation from them and reddening the
skin, now decorated by long, silver scars. I stared at the red skin; scars of
different lengths and intensity were spread out over both of my forearms, sparkling
from the water which uncovered them. They were hideous, I hated them and I
hated myself for making them so, I hide them. Every day I spread foundation
over my arms forming a sort of second skin that even Alex didn’t know about,
nobody knew about them. I could never tell anyone, I was too ashamed.
I sank further in the tub until the water was in line with my lips, my hair spreading out over the surface of the water like blood. I closed my eyes and dipped my head in as well, breathing out slowly, feeling the bubbles leave my lips one by one imagining me letting go of everything I hate about myself. When I ran out of air I slowly lifted my head out of the water and took in a deep breath.
Why do I hate me? What did I do to hate me so much? Is it the hate that others have for me that makes me hate me? Have I started to see me through the eyes of the people around me? No, no if I did I wouldn’t see me –they don’t see me, they look right past me. Alex sees me….He looks at me. He doesn’t hate me. Jasper…he looks at me too. He talks to me too.
I took another deep breath to clear my head and looked over at the clock -9.00 PM. I’d gone over to Edith’s around six and came home to study then I showered –she said food would be set at nine so I guess I should dry off and go eat. I got up and wrapped a large, blue towel around my body and another, smaller one around my hair making it look like a turban. Before I left the bathroom I heard a thud of something falling.
“Homer, what did you-” but it wasn’t homer. I opened the door to see Alex picking up his phone off the floor (that explains the thudding sound) and staring at me red faced.
“I-I-I um hi. E-Edith gave me her spare key and let me in and I did not expect you to walk out in a towel.” He looked away from me then started fumbling with his phone.
“Alex, you’ve seen me in a towel hundreds of times” I casually walked towards the closet to retrieve my clothes then walked back into the bathroom to get changed. Honestly, I don’t get why he’s so fazed by it. Usually he’d just make a joke or whistle or something. I walked out in my oversized, teal jumper and skinny jeans. Alex was cursing at himself in the corner of the room.
“Alex, you can turn around now I’m wearing clothes.”
“Right.” He turned around awkwardly and sat on the bed, his head in his hands.
“What’s up with you today?” I sat down beside him but he scooted away from me toward the headboard “Seriously?”
He was acting so strange, I’ve known this twat for years and the only time he’s scooted away from me before was when he was mad at me and I was pretty damn sure he wasn’t mad at me now.
“I’m sorry.” He mumbled through his hands “I’m being stupid.”
I scooted closer to him again and tucked my legs in, resting my cheeks between my knees “Yeah, you are but do you wanna tell me why?”
“I would if I knew. I just, you just. Ughh.” He fell back against the bed and rubbed his eyes with the backs of his hands.
“You do know you aren't making any sense, right?” I smirked and he glared at me.
“I am making sense; I just don’t know how to explain any of it so yeah I'm just gonna stop talking before I fuck things up.” He sat back up and stared ahead of him.
“Alex, what are you talking about?”
“I think –I think…I should go now.” He stood up but I pulled him back down and looked at him with a grin on my face that he knew meant my curiosity was hooked on the topic.
“Alex. What are you talking about?”
“Nothing, okay, I'm talking about nothing. Now, the only reason why Edith gave me a key was to call you for dinner. They invited me too, so let’s hurry up cos I’m really hungry and you know how agitated I get when I'm hungry.” He got back up again off the bed and stormed out the room; his face red like a tomato.
Okay, that was weird.
I sank further in the tub until the water was in line with my lips, my hair spreading out over the surface of the water like blood. I closed my eyes and dipped my head in as well, breathing out slowly, feeling the bubbles leave my lips one by one imagining me letting go of everything I hate about myself. When I ran out of air I slowly lifted my head out of the water and took in a deep breath.
Why do I hate me? What did I do to hate me so much? Is it the hate that others have for me that makes me hate me? Have I started to see me through the eyes of the people around me? No, no if I did I wouldn’t see me –they don’t see me, they look right past me. Alex sees me….He looks at me. He doesn’t hate me. Jasper…he looks at me too. He talks to me too.
I took another deep breath to clear my head and looked over at the clock -9.00 PM. I’d gone over to Edith’s around six and came home to study then I showered –she said food would be set at nine so I guess I should dry off and go eat. I got up and wrapped a large, blue towel around my body and another, smaller one around my hair making it look like a turban. Before I left the bathroom I heard a thud of something falling.
“Homer, what did you-” but it wasn’t homer. I opened the door to see Alex picking up his phone off the floor (that explains the thudding sound) and staring at me red faced.
“I-I-I um hi. E-Edith gave me her spare key and let me in and I did not expect you to walk out in a towel.” He looked away from me then started fumbling with his phone.
“Alex, you’ve seen me in a towel hundreds of times” I casually walked towards the closet to retrieve my clothes then walked back into the bathroom to get changed. Honestly, I don’t get why he’s so fazed by it. Usually he’d just make a joke or whistle or something. I walked out in my oversized, teal jumper and skinny jeans. Alex was cursing at himself in the corner of the room.
“Alex, you can turn around now I’m wearing clothes.”
“Right.” He turned around awkwardly and sat on the bed, his head in his hands.
“What’s up with you today?” I sat down beside him but he scooted away from me toward the headboard “Seriously?”
He was acting so strange, I’ve known this twat for years and the only time he’s scooted away from me before was when he was mad at me and I was pretty damn sure he wasn’t mad at me now.
“I’m sorry.” He mumbled through his hands “I’m being stupid.”
I scooted closer to him again and tucked my legs in, resting my cheeks between my knees “Yeah, you are but do you wanna tell me why?”
“I would if I knew. I just, you just. Ughh.” He fell back against the bed and rubbed his eyes with the backs of his hands.
“You do know you aren't making any sense, right?” I smirked and he glared at me.
“I am making sense; I just don’t know how to explain any of it so yeah I'm just gonna stop talking before I fuck things up.” He sat back up and stared ahead of him.
“Alex, what are you talking about?”
“I think –I think…I should go now.” He stood up but I pulled him back down and looked at him with a grin on my face that he knew meant my curiosity was hooked on the topic.
“Alex. What are you talking about?”
“Nothing, okay, I'm talking about nothing. Now, the only reason why Edith gave me a key was to call you for dinner. They invited me too, so let’s hurry up cos I’m really hungry and you know how agitated I get when I'm hungry.” He got back up again off the bed and stormed out the room; his face red like a tomato.
Okay, that was weird.
The warmth thawed my icy skin as I entered the Café and a pleasant
shiver went down my spine. The place was pretty much empty. Well, it is a Monday evening and the streets are all clogged up in the snow. I
could see Jasper sitting patiently at a table at the far side of the room; his
hands clasped around a mug. The café’s walls were white with black, vertical
stripes making the ceiling seem much higher than it actually was.
The counter was to the left of the room; cakes, coffees and other things were on display and two cashiers -dressed in black- stood behind it working away at whatever they were doing. I walked over to them, ordered my Café Latte and went to join Jasper.
“Hey.” He smiled, his green eyes twinkling in the lamp-light.
“Hey, sorry I'm late. The roads were all blocked up with the snow.” I said.
I pulled my coat off and slung it on the back of my chair. I was wearing an oversized, knitted, beige sweater with thick, black tights underneath and bright red boots. I pulled off my black beanie and stuffed my matching scarf into it, placing it beside my checked back-pack on the floor.
“It’s all right, I just got here anyway.” He took a sip of his coffee and placed it back on the table.
Jasper and I had been hanging out quite often lately. Alex was always busy at school so I’d go and sit with Jasper. He’s good company and one of the few people who doesn't seem to find me unbearably irritating so I didn't want to pass up the chance, even if he is a bit nuts.
“I have a favour to ask of you.” He smirked and leaned back in his chair.
A favour…? “Oh? How may I be of service?” I took a sip of my coffee but his response made me spit it back out.
“Will you model for me?” He laughed at my reaction and said “is that a yes?”
“Um, why?” I laughed nervously and couldn't help picturing those voluptuous models in Vogue and then my awkward, stick-like figure on the opposite page.
“The Art exhibition that’s coming up, I need someone to model for me and you’re going to do it.”
“So that’s why you invited me out for coffee.” I mumbled.
My mind fuzzed out a bit, thinking of all the different ways this little experiment could turn out; most of it negative. You’re no model, Isla but you could gain something from this…Excluding the public humiliation, you could get a favour out of Jasper. He’d owe you.
A smile played at my lips as the idea popped into my head. I need someone to paint for my own paintings and I've done Alex so many times that I could do it blind-folded. New challenge.
“All right, but at a cost.” I smiled and took another sip of my hot coffee.
“You want me to pay you?” He raised an eyebrow and laughed “Isla, I'm not going to pa-”
“No, I don’t want you to pay me. I want you to model for me; for my own exhibition. I need a new subject in my paintings, anyway. You model for me, I model for you; it’s a fair trade, no?” I couldn't help but grin: I caught the hunter in his own trap.
I could see him weighing out his options, considering whether or not this would be a good idea. Eventually, after drinking half his coffee he said “All right, I’ll do it but you better keep your side of the bargain.”
“I will, don’t worry.”
Suddenly his expression changed, it was a weird look, he looked pissed off yet amused at the same time; basically he clicked into bitch mode. He was looking at the main door to the side of us, well looking at the three people who just entered the café, one of which was Alex.
He was with a beautiful girl in a red turtle-neck sweater and black skinny jeans; her blonde hair framing her face like a lion’s mane. There was also a tall, skinny guy with them. He looked foreign but extremely familiar; the awkward way he stood and pulled at the sleeves on his green jumper, I was sure I’d seen him somewhere before but I couldn't pin-point it.
“Well this should be interesting.” Jasper smirked and stood up, walking toward them.
“He knows them?” I whispered to myself as he hugged the blonde girl. I looked over at Alex and he was glaring at Jasper will all the hate he could muster. What? I sat there alone, staring at the four of them wondering how Jasper knew them and why Alex seemed so pissed about it.
They were talking but I couldn't hear them. The girl smiled, her deep red lips splitting into a perfect grin. They all seemed so…so close. But Alex was standing outside of their new formed circle, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans; his gaze fixed on Jasper.
I assume someone asked who Jasper was with cos he turned and pointed at me. Alex -noticing me for the first time since he got into the café- looked at me semi-shocked. The award boy pointed at me as if he recognized me from somewhere and smiled at me. I could feel my cheeks glowing red, the four of them staring at me from across the room; grins on three of their faces. I turned around instantly and started aimlessly stirring my already-cold coffee. I wonder how they all know each other. Why didn't Alex tell me?
I turned around again and saw Alex leaving the café, the other three too deep in conversation to notice. For some strange reason a pang of guilt hit me, not like it was my fault but oh well. I grabbed my stuff and left the café after him, mouthing “I’ll text you” in Jasper’s direction as I left.
The counter was to the left of the room; cakes, coffees and other things were on display and two cashiers -dressed in black- stood behind it working away at whatever they were doing. I walked over to them, ordered my Café Latte and went to join Jasper.
“Hey.” He smiled, his green eyes twinkling in the lamp-light.
“Hey, sorry I'm late. The roads were all blocked up with the snow.” I said.
I pulled my coat off and slung it on the back of my chair. I was wearing an oversized, knitted, beige sweater with thick, black tights underneath and bright red boots. I pulled off my black beanie and stuffed my matching scarf into it, placing it beside my checked back-pack on the floor.
“It’s all right, I just got here anyway.” He took a sip of his coffee and placed it back on the table.
Jasper and I had been hanging out quite often lately. Alex was always busy at school so I’d go and sit with Jasper. He’s good company and one of the few people who doesn't seem to find me unbearably irritating so I didn't want to pass up the chance, even if he is a bit nuts.
“I have a favour to ask of you.” He smirked and leaned back in his chair.
A favour…? “Oh? How may I be of service?” I took a sip of my coffee but his response made me spit it back out.
“Will you model for me?” He laughed at my reaction and said “is that a yes?”
“Um, why?” I laughed nervously and couldn't help picturing those voluptuous models in Vogue and then my awkward, stick-like figure on the opposite page.
“The Art exhibition that’s coming up, I need someone to model for me and you’re going to do it.”
“So that’s why you invited me out for coffee.” I mumbled.
My mind fuzzed out a bit, thinking of all the different ways this little experiment could turn out; most of it negative. You’re no model, Isla but you could gain something from this…Excluding the public humiliation, you could get a favour out of Jasper. He’d owe you.
A smile played at my lips as the idea popped into my head. I need someone to paint for my own paintings and I've done Alex so many times that I could do it blind-folded. New challenge.
“All right, but at a cost.” I smiled and took another sip of my hot coffee.
“You want me to pay you?” He raised an eyebrow and laughed “Isla, I'm not going to pa-”
“No, I don’t want you to pay me. I want you to model for me; for my own exhibition. I need a new subject in my paintings, anyway. You model for me, I model for you; it’s a fair trade, no?” I couldn't help but grin: I caught the hunter in his own trap.
I could see him weighing out his options, considering whether or not this would be a good idea. Eventually, after drinking half his coffee he said “All right, I’ll do it but you better keep your side of the bargain.”
“I will, don’t worry.”
Suddenly his expression changed, it was a weird look, he looked pissed off yet amused at the same time; basically he clicked into bitch mode. He was looking at the main door to the side of us, well looking at the three people who just entered the café, one of which was Alex.
He was with a beautiful girl in a red turtle-neck sweater and black skinny jeans; her blonde hair framing her face like a lion’s mane. There was also a tall, skinny guy with them. He looked foreign but extremely familiar; the awkward way he stood and pulled at the sleeves on his green jumper, I was sure I’d seen him somewhere before but I couldn't pin-point it.
“Well this should be interesting.” Jasper smirked and stood up, walking toward them.
“He knows them?” I whispered to myself as he hugged the blonde girl. I looked over at Alex and he was glaring at Jasper will all the hate he could muster. What? I sat there alone, staring at the four of them wondering how Jasper knew them and why Alex seemed so pissed about it.
They were talking but I couldn't hear them. The girl smiled, her deep red lips splitting into a perfect grin. They all seemed so…so close. But Alex was standing outside of their new formed circle, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans; his gaze fixed on Jasper.
I assume someone asked who Jasper was with cos he turned and pointed at me. Alex -noticing me for the first time since he got into the café- looked at me semi-shocked. The award boy pointed at me as if he recognized me from somewhere and smiled at me. I could feel my cheeks glowing red, the four of them staring at me from across the room; grins on three of their faces. I turned around instantly and started aimlessly stirring my already-cold coffee. I wonder how they all know each other. Why didn't Alex tell me?
I turned around again and saw Alex leaving the café, the other three too deep in conversation to notice. For some strange reason a pang of guilt hit me, not like it was my fault but oh well. I grabbed my stuff and left the café after him, mouthing “I’ll text you” in Jasper’s direction as I left.
