CHAPTER 9

Sharon had provided me the uniform and textbooks just like she had promised and here I was on the first day of school in front of a class being asked to introduce myself. "Good day class... I'm Chantelle...." And that was when I saw him .... Malcom?? Malcom Blackwood?? In my class?? This was certainly not right and was sure as hell not gonna favour me. I hooked my eyes with him expecting a bit of recognition in his eyes but then there was nothing, totally nothing. My heart sank to my belly.

Flashback

"I've gotta become closer to him, I've just got to ... I'll do anything to make that happen," I said, nodding my head with assurance.

I was standing at the entrance to Malcom's house, eagerly anticipating my visit to him. I felt wonderful, and believed that my positive attitude was boosted by the weather, which was absolutely very gorgeous today. There was not a cloud to be seen in the heavens, and I looked up at the brilliant blue sky, the sun's soothing warmth bolstering my courage.

After reflecting upon the beauty of the day, I engaged in a long, leisurely peek around the front part of Malcom's home. This was something I often indulged in, especially whenever I was walking to school in the morning, or returning from school on an afternoon. For me, Malcom's house was the kind of home one would take a second peek at if they were either walking, or driving by. It was a mansion.

The home was in a beach house style, and it was painted in a lush cream tone, giving it a very relaxed atmosphere. It's well-trimmed front garden gifted the home with an aura of serenity, and the impression that it was a sanctuary away from the world at large. I sighed as I observed the garden's beautiful trees and the exquisite flowers, sights such as these always affected my mood for the better. It always relaxed my mind whenever I passed by his house, and I'm reminded just how much I wanted to be part of his world. A world so exquisite and not hanging somewhere in the middle like I was doing right now.

I bowed my head, and thought about Malcom and smiled. I believed he did like me, this was confirmed by our exchanging of glances in the school hall days ago, and our infrequent talks at school. Beginning from today, I was going to show malcom that I was the right girl for him. I took a deep breath, and whispered, "Here it goes", and knocked on his front door.

I waited for a few moments, watching his front door in suspense. The house seemed to be very quiet, and I considered maybe he was not home. My heart sank a little at the possibility I would not see him and I frowned. I decided, though, to ignore my teenage impatient thoughts, and wait just a little longer for him.

I heard some rumblings inside, and felt that he indeed was at home, and smiled again. To my delight, he opened the door, and ardently set his eyes upon me. He was wearing outdoor work clothes and it appeared that he had been doing some gardening, as I spotted a tuft of grass on his shirt.

"Hey Chantel" He said, his face relaying surprise at my visit.

"Hi Malcom"

"So, what're you doing around here?" he asked, leaning in the doorway.

I smiled at him, eyes glinting.

"Oh, I was running a few errands, and thought I'd come by to see a friend," I told him, as he smiled when I referred to him as a friend. "Errands," I thought, looking at him ,  Seeing Malcom is definitely not an errand.

He seemed to notice that I was lost in my thoughts, and said,

"Er.. Chantel,  wanna come inside? It'd be great to have some company", clearing the way for my entrance. Although he looked a bit surprised by me showing at his front door, He looked like it was good to see me. We usually had little to do with each other at school, as we had different interests. But he was part of mine. He's my first crush and so far he's been the only one.

While I was interested in drama and academic subjects because I knew I didn't excel much in that aspect, Malcom was more the sporty type, even though he did well in all his subjects. Despite this, he would see me at school from time to time, and we quickly found that speaking to each other was never an unpleasant experience.

I was happy to be with him and, as I passed through the lounge room, some of his sporting trophies caught my eye. These were on display in a wall unit, and I went over specially to see them. He watched me with interest glaring in his eyes and saw me admiring his trophies, touching them one by one. I noticed one of his first-ever trophies, and began to stroke it longingly, before picking it up, and holding it in my hands.

He had won this prize for sprinting when he was in the first grade, and had come first in the race that day. While he looked a little surprised at my actions were, he didn't say anything about it. He knew that I could be very unpredictable, but, at other times, very sympathetic, and even a little vulnerable at times. I suddenly turned around to him and for a second he looked startled and then he smiled.

"I remember when you won this," I said, looking at him deeply. "You've always been a great athlete; I knew you'd always be a winner. You were born to win." He did not say anything, but, nevertheless, he looked flattered.

"You really remember that race?"

"Yeah, I do. It was just the beginning of great things to come," I replied, with a wistful smile. He smiled at me, and I returned his warm grin. He looked like he did not know exactly what to make of this comment, and so he said nothing. I placed the trophy back on the shelf, feeling better with myself, and he indicated to me that we pass through to the outdoor area.

He led me through the lounge room onto a covered patio, which featured a large outdoor swimming pool, outdoor kitchen, barbeque area, and changing room area. I was struck by the beauty of this outdoor space, which was renowned as the setting of some very prominent social events in the area. Malcom's parents were well-known for their generosity and support of charities in the district, and often used the backyard for this purpose.

As I looked around the veranda, something else captured my attention. I noticed that he had been tending to the garden, and had an assortment of garden equipment in a tool bucket.

"Want something to drink?" he asked me

"Sure, I'd love something," I replied.

"Anything in particular?" he asked again.

"Nah, anything you pick will be fantastic," I said with panache, regardinghim with desire. He watched me curiously, and went over to the outdoor kitchen's refrigerator, where he retrieved a drink for me. He opened a cupboard and obtained a glass, and started pouring out the drink.

As he prepared my drink, I thought about how handsome he was, and my heart skipped a beat. Even though he was wearing work clothes, and his hair was slightly unkempt, he was still very good looking. He approached me with the glass of lemonade, and our eyes hooked up.

"Here you go," he motioned, passing it to me. His hand slightly brushed mine as he offered me the drink, and I looked at him passionately after this sensation. The sensation of Malcom's cool, but soft hand was chilling for me and I enjoyed every second of this. He quickly pulled his hand away, as though he was nervous, but then he laughed, and I laughed too, but for very different reasons. I observed his garden shears and shovels lying on the grass, and said,

"I see you're working on the garden.Looks like you've got some stuff to do."

"Yeah, needs some work," he replied, nodding in agreement. "But I love gardening. I promised my folks I'd finish it today, while the sun's still out."

"Why not just allow the workers do it and come to think of it, why are they not around today?" I voiced out my thoughts. " They were given a day off, all of them.. to rest. Including the gatekeeper"

"Oh, don't let me take you away from it then" I purred

"No, it's okay. I'll just finish the bit I was doing and I'll be with you, if that's okay," He said in his typical, easy-going manner.

"I'll make sure to keep an eye on you," I said with my eyes darting naughtily throwing suggestive advances.

"You sure? It's not fair you've come over, and I'm leaving you to work on the garden," he said.

"No, it's okay, the view's really gorgeous from here, I can look at that. You know, you have a beautiful view from the back of your house," I said delighting in my own mischief.

"Thanks Chantel. Anyways, I won't be long. You can get something from the kitchen if you like," he said.

"No, I'm okay, you don't need to worry about me," I said, smiling at him. He warmly returned my smile, nodded, and went back to work. I sat on an Adirondack chair on the veranda, and enjoyed my cold drink.

I looked over at the outdoor refrigerator, and saw that it was full of soft drink cans, bottled water, and other drinks. He always kept it well stocked so that he would not become dehydrated while he's working in the garden. An idea suddenly occurred to me, something that was so exciting for me to contemplate, I became restless just thinking about it. I moved around nervously in my seat, abuzz with expectation.

"Yeah Malcom, let me show you what I can do for you," I said, cocking back my head. I was going to have some fun with him and nothing, or nobody, was going to stop her.

I called out to him as he was still tending to the sod, and asked him,

"Do you want another drink? I bet you're thirsty."

"Sure, if you can get one for me, it'd be great," he said, looking up at me for a moment.

"Nothing's too much for you, Malcom" I said letting his name roll on my tongue as I arose from my seat, and got the drink out of the fridge. He was obviously concentrating on finishing his work and so he unaware of what I was doing.

I sneakily walked up to him, as he was kneeling on the grass, doing some weeding. He looked up at me, and smiled. Accidentally on purpose, I dropped the can onto his shoulder, and a dull, hard thud sounded. The can plunged into the lawn, and landed into a grassy patch. I knew that he had injured his shoulder while playing sport at school awhile ago, but then my intention was not to harm him, in all honesty, I had other, much better things planned for him.

"Ouch!" he yelled, wincing from the pain.

"Oh god Malcom, I'm so sorry," I said.

"That's the spot I hurt in playing sport. God, I forgot how much it hurt until now," he said, his face filled with so much anguish.  to massage his shoulder with much urgency, and moaning and groaning.

"Sorry Malcom, is there anything I could do? After all, I'm the one who did this to you," I asked. He shook his head, and continued to rub his shoulder frantically.

"Oh come on, must be something I could do to help you. What if I gave it a massage?" I said, moving closer to him.

"No, I'm okay," he said, his face still expressing agony at the slip of my fingers.

"No Malcom, you're not okay. Look, let me help — I owe it to you," I purred, shaking my head at malcom's rejection. I kneeled close to him on the grass, and moved behind him, beginning to massage his shoulder. While malcom looked a little odd while I did this for him, he was apparently glad I was doing it as he looked a lot better. As I massaged him, he smiled and I did the same.

"Now malcom, how does that feel?"

"Better, much better," malcom said. He closed his eyes and sighed. I was beside herself with happiness, and sighed with pleasure.

As it was a sunny day, I beckoned him to sit in the patio armchair, which he did without hesitation, and I cunningly moved behind him. I continued to massage his shoulder, but then, my eyes fell upon his shirt. A wave of excitement surged through my body as I considered various situations I would like to be in with him. I imagined a few options, and smiled impishly at the thought of these.

"Malcom, wouldn't it be better if you took off your shirt? Then I'd be able to massage your shoulder better," I said in a low voice. He looked at her with a blank expression. I watched him with my sincerest face, hoping he would say yes to this. Although looked doubtful at first, he nodded his head, and proceeded to take off his shirt. I moved in front of him and tried to help him unbutton his shirt, but he indicated he wanted to do this for himself.

After he had taken off his shirt, he put it on the back of the armchair. I moved back behind him, seeing the shirt, flung it on the ground without him noticing. I was finally getting a little of what I wanted from him and curled my lips in sweet satisfaction.

"How does that feel now?" Francine asked malcom, looking at him with deep admiration.

"Great, great, really great," he said. He sighed as I massaged his shoulder, and I felt wonderful hearing his deep, satisfied groans

I always found his young yet baritone voice very appealing, and felt I could listen to him talking for hours. The feel of his smooth skin, also, was a wonderful sensation for me. I took every opportunity to massage his shoulder, and parts of his back, savoring every second of our time alone.

Unexpectedly, the phone rang, it's shrill sound disrupting the lazy mood, and I looked at malcom, and he at me. I signaled with my eyes that he ignore it, but, to , he quickly got up from his seat, and raced inside the lounge room to pick it up.  him as he did this, disappointed that my stunt was interrupted so abruptly. After putting down the phone, he came back onto the patio, looking a little panicked.

"My folks will be coming home soon," he said, scrambling to look for his shirt. Once he spotted it, he gave me a weird look like asking why his shirt was on the ground, as he thought it was lying on the back of the chair. I pulled my most earnest face for him, and shrugged my shoulders. Malcom quickly brushed this off, though, as he looked like he had more important things to think about, than me. "They might get the wrong idea if they see us like this," he laughed, as he began to put on his shirt.

I smiled at Malcom's comment; I did not care what anyone thought , in fact I wanted people to get the 'wrong idea' about I and Malcom together. Even though we were just 14 and 15 respectively. He was a year older than I was.

"Sorry about this," he said, obviously noticing the frustration on my face. He had by now fully buttoned his shirt, and was tidying himself up.

"It's okay, don't be sorry," I said, eyeing him carefully. Despite the disruption to my time with him, just when things were getting interesting, I still enjoyed my interlude with him. I was extremely happy with my achievements for the day, and hoped my little exploit would make him like me more.

I smiled at him and began walking towards the front door, he was following closely behind. After arriving there, I slowly spun around to face him.

"I'd better go. Caused you enough trouble today," I said, looking slightly embarrassed.

"That's okay Chantel, forget about it," he said, shrugging his shoulders. He paused a little, looking away from me, turning his head back towards me. I waited anxiously to hear what he would next say, as if my life depended upon his next few words.

"Chantel, I'm happy you came over," he said."Really?" I asked, with a vulnerable expression on my face.

"Yeah, really," he admitted. He smiled again at Francine, and I returned his warm grimace. There was a short silence between us and I chuckled nervously. It was as if we had run out of things to say to one another, and neither of us knew what to say to the other. I knew it was my cue to leave, and, as I turned the knob on his front door, I faced him with a sexy look in my eye.

"It was great being with you today. See you at school tomorrow, Bye"

"Bye," he said, quietly closing the front door and my belly fluttered with happiness

***********

That had been four years ago, two years before her father went to jail. Because his father framed mine! They had been business associates, he had been my first crush. I tried to hate him when the issue with my dad and his dad came up but I couldn't hate him, I hadn't even seen him in four years. And now this? Really?? He snubbed me? Woah. That sure did shock me.