Chapter 2- Why do Bad Things Always Happen to Good People?

        On Tuesday I stroll into Home Ec with Krista and we take our seats next to each other at one of the tables in the back. The room is filled with six four person tables. We don't have assigned seats since Mrs. Kane announced yesterday that we wouldn't have to have them as long as we were on our best behavior.

        As I sit waiting for class to start, I think back to first period where I saw Matt leaning over his desk, to talk Angela Carmichael. I couldn't even concentrate on our assigned book. I can't even tell you what the first few chapters were about. I was distracted the whole period.

        I hate this part of the breakup. All my wounds are still fresh, and unhealed. From now on every time I see Matt with a new girl it's going to be like a bandage rubbing up against the raw flesh under my skin. I sigh. How am I ever going to manage surviving this year?

        "Good Morning!" Mrs. Kane's voice rings out so cheerful everyone has to look at her. It should be a crime to be so cheerful before lunch. My stomach growls just as I think of it and I internally groan.

        There are a few mumbles of hello that go around the room, but no one is as enthusiastic to be here as Mrs. Kane. I guess I can't blame her though. She has a lot to be enthusiastic about. She's tall, beautiful, and married to my P.E teacher, who is totally gorgeous by the way. He looks like a model for Calvin Klein underwear.

        I pull out of my thoughts of him and try to focus on what Mrs. Kane is saying. She opens a nearby storage cabinet and starts handing out books. Today is text book assignment day.

        She looks around the room for someone to volunteer to hand them out, but no one does so I end up being the one to get called on to do it. I take as many books as my arms can carry and pass them around the room. It's only then that I actually acknowledge who all is in our class.

        Most of them I don't know very well. Some of them are sophomores and juniors. The closer I get back to my table I notice more people in my grade. Melissa Kerman, a girl I shared a class with last year sits at the table ahead of mine. She smiles up at me and takes the book I hand to her. Next is, Tara Owen sitting beside her and then Scott Gill, and Chad Holland sitting opposite them at the same table.

        I stiffen a little as I hand Chad his book. I don't remember seeing him in here yesterday. As he takes it he ignores me and makes a joke to Scott about something I can't hear and both of them laugh. After I make it to our table and finish up by handing the books to the two girls sharing our space and I take my seat.

        Krista giggles next to me. I turn to her and stare.

        "What?"

        "You were scowling," she says still giggling behind her hand.

         I frown. "I was not."

        She nods. "Yes you were; directly at Chad."

        I huff and whisper. "Well, I can't help it. He's scum. Who dates their brother's girlfriend after they've just broken up? It's wrong."

        Krista's face becomes smooth again and her laughing finally ceases. "I think he flunked senior year last year just so he could stay here and date her. I always thought they had something going on behind Brent's back. I mean she was over at their house everyday and when Brent wasn't at school they were always connected at the hip."

        "Gross," I say. "Brent is so much better than him. I can't Sabine she doesn't see that."

        Krista shrugs. "Some people just aren't as smart as others."

        That's true. I guess you can't expect looks to match intelligence.

        I turn to my book and open it to the front cover. Mrs. Kane instructs us to write our names in them under all the other people who have previously had the books.

        Our first lesson for the semester is sewing. Mrs. Kane seems particularly excited about this one. After our text book lesson we'll be making curtains and throw pillows for our bedrooms. Not that I'll ever actually use mine. Anything I've ever attempted to make turned out hideous.

        Mrs. Kane bought tons of fabric for us to choose from.

        I turn to the first lesson in our books as Mrs. Kane reads aloud.

        By the end of the day I'm switching into my gym shorts and shirt when I go to remove my neon green knee socks, but decide to leave them on. They're comfortable and I don't feel like taking them off yet. The other girls have already left the locker room so I'm the only one left in the room. After placing my stuff in my locker, I head out into the gym for volley ball.

        Coach Kane already has the net set up with the assistance of two other guys in the class when I make it to the gym. He picks the same two guys to head off the volleyball teams and they start dividing us up. Brent, of course, is one of the first few people to get picked. He's great at pretty much every sport. I wonder how it feels being so perfect at everything you do.

        I get picked toward the middle of the selection and I am disappointed to see Brent and I are on different teams. I was hoping I would have at least one person to talk to.

        After every one is divided up we go to opposite sides of the net and I am the very first one to serve. It has been a while since I played the game so I'm a little nervous about sending the ball across the net. Everyone seems to be waiting on me to get the game started so I throw the ball up and hit with enough force to send it flying. Unfortunately though, it doesn't make it past the net and instead gets caught in it and falls to the ground. No one made an attempt to save it. A girl turns back at me and laughs and I laugh along with her. It was a pretty pathetic serve.

        Next is the other teams turn to serve. Devon, the chooser for the team, goes first. He hits the ball hard and sends it flying over the net and the front people of our team rush to hit it. It gets tossed in the air twice by our side then someone sends it back over to the other team. It smacks the ground in their court.

        We continue to go back and forth until I am rotated to the front line and the ball comes sailing over the net and smacks me clean in the face. I stumbled back in shock as the ball hits the ground. My face burns from the impact from my forehead to the end of my nose. Ow!

        I feel my face slightly welting under my touch. Coach Kane is looking at me with worry when he examines my face from outside the play area. That's when I feel it- the warm trickle running along my septum and down my lip. I touch my nose with the tips of my fingers and pull away to see read coating my fingers. Crap.

        Coach Kane jogs over to me and tips my head back with the touch of his hand under my chin. And as awkward as it is, I blush. He has that effect on girls.

        "Keep your head back." He looks across the net at the other team and orders someone to take me to the nurse's office. With one other person missing from the opposite team, he still has even numbers for play while we are gone.

        I am grateful when Brent is the person who offers first. "I'll do it." He makes his way over to us places his hand on the middle of my back to steer me away from the team. I tense up unintentionally and he removes his hand from me blushing. "Sorry." He looks ahead as we walk avoids touching me again. "Pinch your nose. It'll help stop the bleeding."

        I barely nod and do as he says. Why did I tense? I start to feel bad about when I reply the action back in my head. It isn't that Brent's touch made me uncomfortable it's just...no one besides Matt has ever touched me that way. I was just surprised I guess.

        "I'm sorry about your nose," he says. We are halfway to the nurse's office when he breaks the silence again.

        "It's fine. I get nose bleeds pretty easily anyway. Some people are just more susceptible to them." My voice comes out funny and all nasally and I don't look at him.

        "I get them too," he says. We both look at each other for a second in surprise before turning our attention back to the space in front of us.

        At some point during out walk my eyes rest on him again.

        I never really noticed how good looking Brent was before. I guess because I was never looking before. But now, this close, I can really appreciate him. His hair is chestnut brown and curls a little at the ends. His eyes are also brown to match his hair. And his cheek bones are high and angular on his face. I like how smooth his completion is too.

        I feel my face heat up when I realize he's caught me staring. He laughs and I immediately apologize looking away. "Thanks for bringing me to the office by the way," I say after a short silence. "I realize I never told you that."

        He looks at me from the corner of his eye and flashes me a quick grin. "Well, it did get me out of gym so I guess we're even." As I try to process this he laughs again and says, "I'm only kidding. I'm not that big of a jerk, I swear."

        Finally I laugh too. Oh. "You're not a jerk at all."

        He doesn't pause for a second. "I'm glad you think so. I'd hate for you to think of me the way most people think of my brother. We're nothing alike."

        "I know," I say. And I do. He's too nice to be like Chad.

        He gives me his award winning smile and winks. "Good."

        I feel tingles rise to my scalp and I try to hide my smile. He winked at me and I'm walking next to him like an idiot clutching my bloody nose. I shouldn't be smiling.

        As soon as I realize it, Matt face pops into my head and the air leaves my lungs in a rush. Slowly guilt starts to creep inside me. I know it's irrational to think about him or even feel the slightest bit of shame at a time like this, but I do.

        I don't know any other way to describe it other than natural tendency. Sure I've looked at guys before, but I've never flirted with them or talked to them. I had Matt and that's all I ever needed. He made me happy. And I loved him. I still love him.

        I still have gotten used to us not being together anymore so anything I do I naturally imagine him and wonder what he would think.

        It's stupid, I know. But you don't just get over someone overnight. These things take time. It's a habit I'm going to have to break.

        "Here we are," Brent says upon arriving at the nurse's office. She's standing at a station inside organizing some medical supplies when we come in. She looks at us mildly startled and then rushes to grab some sterile wipes for my nose. I take them gratefully.

        She lightly grasps my arm and leads me over to the blue examination bed in the middle of the room. I allow myself to sit and rest on it.

        "What happened?" she asks me.

        Brent quickly speaks up for me and I am thankful. "She was hit in the face with the volleyball."

        "I see," she says as she examines what I'm sure is my very red forehead. "Keep your body up right, your nose pinched at the septum and your head slightly back at an angle, just enough that you don't swallow any blood. You don't want to upset your stomach. You should be fine in few minutes."

        She walks over the sink and grabs a few more sterile wipes for me and wets them. She brings them back over to me and begins wiping up the dried blood on my skin. I am grateful to be rid of it.

        I watch her as she does this and recognize that she looks a lot like my great-Aunt Pearl- my grandma's sister. They both share the same graying curly hair, the firm blue eyes and body weight. Both of them seem frail, but are really the exact opposite.

        "Now, she says after a few more minutes. "That should do it. Go stand over the sink and slowly remove your hand."

        I do as she says and Brent comes rushing to my side. When I release my nose he waits a moment then asks, "Are you alright?"

        I wait, just to make sure the blood isn't going to come flowing back out and nod. I'm alright, but my nose is definitely packed with dried, hardened blood.

        "In about ten minutes try blowing your noise to clear your nasal passage," Nurse Sullins says and shuffles to the door. "I'll be back shortly to check on you. You just relax here for a minute."

        Brent grabs another wipe and dampens it and hands it back to me when she is gone. "Here. You still have some blood on your cheek."

        I take it and blindly rub down my left side of my face. When I am done I ask him, "Did I get it?"

        He shakes his head. "Missed it. Its right here," he says pointing to a spot on his face that reflects mine. I try again to wipe my cheek clean and fail. He laughs at me and picks up my hand with the wipe and places it on my face.

        I try not to blush when I wipe. "Thank you. There should really be a mirror in here."

        "Then I wouldn't have been able to help you."

        I feel those damn tingles again and have to turn away from him. Then guilt comes climbing back in like it never left and I hate myself again.

        When the nurse returns she brings in a steaming hot cup of coffee from the teacher's lounge and sets it on her desk. "Well, how do you feel? Any light headedness?"

        I shake my head.

        "Any nausea?"

        I shake my head again.

        She nods looking pleased and hands me a Kleenex. "Good. Now give it your nose a blow and you can head back to class." 

        I do as she says and I'm embarrassed at the amount of time it takes me to. I start to feel better immediately. I throw away my tissue and walk to the door with Brent.

        "Thank you," I say to her.

        She offers me a light smile says. "It's my job. And try to be a little more careful next time. Some sports can be a little rough."

        I nod and head out into the hallway with Brent again with a new appreciation for breathing out of my nose.

        "Do you wanna head back?" he asks as we travel down the empty hallway.

        I look at him. "What do you mean?"

        He shrugs. "I don't know. You did just get hit in the face with a ball. I can understand if you don't wanna go back to the game."

        Yeah. I really don't.

        "I still have my things in the locker room," I say. I have to go through the gym to retrieve them and I can't just leave my phone in my locker overnight. I'll need it.

        He looks at me like he hadn't considered that and says, "Oh. Right."

        "Thanks anyway though. It shouldn't be long until the game is over anyway. Isn't it about time to leave?"

        He pulls his hand out of his pocket and glances down at his watch mildly surprised. "What do you know, it is. I guess time sort of got lost back there."

        I nod and smile. "That happens a lot when you're not in class."

        "I'd like to not go to class more often then."

        Suddenly a thought comes to my mind and I laugh. "Wow. It's only the second day of school and we're already thinking about ditching. How will we ever make it through the entire school year?"

        I see the humor on his face. "We're pretty sad, aren't we?" He gets quiet for a moment while he looks out the windows we pass then says, "I don't know. I guess this year hasn't gone exactly the way I thought it would. Everything has changed this year. It's different."

        Matt face pops into my mind and without thinking I sigh and say, "Yeah."

        He looks at me in surprise for a second then it fades into understanding. "I guess you heard then, huh? About me and Sabine, I mean."

        "Oh. No," I quickly say. "Well, I mean yes, but I meant -"

        "It's okay," he says softly. "Everyone is bound to find out eventually. I guess it wouldn't be so bad if it wasn't so embarrassing. It's not easy when your brother goes around school bragging about dating your ex-girlfriend."

        For a moment, I feel guilty again, but for a different reason. I am only thinking of myself. Of course he has problems too. He may not have been with Sabine for as long as I have been with Matt, but that doesn't mean his pain is lesser than mine.

        "I'm sorry," I say. "People just suck sometimes."

        "Yeah, they do," he agrees and he looks like someone has just kicked his puppy. If I knew him a little better, and wouldn't make it awkward, I might reach out and touch him.

        By the time we reach the gym again, they are finishing up the end of the game. I am relieved when Coach Kane tells us we can sit out the rest of the game. Brent and I sit side by side on one of the bleachers while we watch everyone else play.

        Few minutes later I see Brent lift up his sleeve again to check the time and I take the time to admire his watch. It's a silver one with a blue face with large hands and numbers. It fits loosely around his wrist just hanging there casually.

        "You know, other than my Dad, I don't know of anymore who wears a watch anymore. Most people just keep up with time by their phones," I say absently.

        The corner of his mouth tugs up and he says, "Are you telling me I remind you of your dad?"

        I sit up straighter in mild shock. "What? No. That's not what I mean at all. I just meant it's cool. I like that you still wear one. Nobody does. It's kind of classic. That's a good thing."

        He considers my compliment briefly then nods. "Classic. I can't say ever been called that before, but I think I like it. I'm classic," he repeats to himself.

        I giggle and start singing "You're over my head. I'm out of my mind, thinking I was born in the wrong time. One of a kind, living in a world gone plastic, baby, you're so classic."

        Brent looks at me monetarily shocked and doesn't say a word and feel like sinking down into the bleachers and disappearing. Did I really just burst out singing? Why am I acting so stupid? Is this the result in only having one boy friend for two and a half years?

        Just when I feel like getting up and running to the locker room and never coming out again, Brent smiles a big bright smile that takes me aback. "I love that song."

        This time it's my turn to stare. "Sorry. That was weird."

        "What?" he says laughing. "No. It was great, really. I thought people randomly singing at school only happened in unrealistic movies, and bad TV programming. You're different than I thought you'd be."

        Uh oh. "I hate that word." It's not ever flattering.

        "I don't mean it in a bad way," he says. "You're different in a good way. You wear neon green knee socks to school. You burst out singing randomly. You let someone else talk about themselves and their problems and forget about your own. You-"

        "What?"

        He gives me an incredulous glance. "Come on. I heard about you and Matt too."

        My eyebrows shoot up quickly. "You have?"

        "Well you have been together longer than any other couple at this school. That kind of news travels fast. It's like the high school equivalent of David and Victoria Beckham if they split up or something."

        I laugh at that. "I don't think we were quite that eminent."

        He shrugs. "If you say so. Either way, we both ended up with the short end of the stick this year. If you ever want to talk about it just know I'm here. I understand."

        I am oddly touched and surprised by his offer. "Oh. Okay. Thanks. That means a lot."

        "No problem."

        When the whistle blows I know it's the end of gym and I say goodbye to Brent and jog to the locker room on the opposite side of the gym. My heart thumps rapidly in my chest the whole way and I know it's not only from the running. It's strange.  

        Unfortunately I don't have time to think on it to much though because just as I gather my things and exit the locker room Matt is there waiting for me and I stop dead in my tracks.

        He's casually leaning up against the wall just outside the door smiling at me. He waves and make is way to where I'm standing when he spots me.

        "Hey," I say suddenly out of breath. "What are you doing here?"

        "I just thought I'd come by and see if you needed a ride home today. We used to ride together last year so I figure why not this year."

        I adjust my bag on my shoulder and look around the gym foyer awkwardly. "Yeah, but we were together last year. Now we're not." The last part pains me to admit.

        I hear his phone beep and he pulls it out of his pocket to check the screen then puts it away again. "Your Dad said it was okay."

        I stare at him open mouthed. "That was my dad?" So what, they are texting each other now?

        "Yeah," he nods. "He said he was running late to pick you up anyway, this way it all works out."

        Gee. Thanks, Dad. I send several bad thoughts in his direction.

        "Alright, fine. Just let me get my things first."

        Matt stairs at me with raised eyebrows looking at my bag. "Wasn't that what you were just doing?"

        I look at my bag and internally slap myself. "Oh. Well I forgot something in the locker room. I'll be right back." I spin towards the door and push it open before he can say anything and I march inside. All the other girls have left already and now it's only me and the silence. I stare at the tiles on the floor and take in a deep breath.

        What is he doing to me? He shouldn't even be waiting for me after class anymore. That's something only boyfriends do and he is clearly no longer that anymore. He's messing with my head now. I'll never be able to get over him if he won't let me.

        I stand there for a few more seconds and pull my phone out of my bag, before joining Matt outside the door again. I wave it at him. "Okay, got it. I'm ready to go now."

        He nods and walks in pace with me to one of the many school exits.

        It feels awkward walking with him like this again. Though normally we are holding hands, or he has his arm around me. It makes me feel depressed.

        I miss him. I want things to go back to the way they used to be. I want Matt back.

        I'm surprised when he still opens the door of his black Range Rover for me when we arrive at the parking lot. When I slide inside I'm hit so hard with familiarity it causes my chest to tighten. Since my breakup with Matt I never thought I'd ever be enjoying the comfort of his car again.

        I can still remember when he first got the vehicle used from his dad. It was the middle of sophomore year. His dad wanted to upgrade to a more recent version of the Range Rover so Markus gave his 2009 version to Matt. He was so excited about finally owning a vehicle that we both stayed gone in it the entire day. I guess I was pretty excited too since I didn't and still don't own a car.

        I should probably talk to dad about that. I don't want to make a habit of getting rides from my ex-boyfriend all year.

        "You want to listen to something?" Matt asks when he gets in and starts the vehicle and pulls from the school lot. A few people are looking at us in curiosity but for the most part no one notices us.

        "No." I look out the window and avoid looking directly at him. I'm still a little sore about having to catch a ride with him. This is not good for my moving on process.

        "Okay then...we'll just sit here in awkward silence." I know what he's doing, but I don't take the bait. I see him look at me from the corner of my eye but I don't return his glance. When he focuses his attention back on the road he drums his fingers on the steering wheel and blows the air out of his cheeks.

        The ride is long and silent. When Matt finally drops me off at home I am so relieved I barely mutter a thank you to him before getting out of the car. I wanted to avoid the whole 'should I invite him in' dilemma, so I don't give myself time to contemplate it.

        I am almost to the door when he rolls down his window and calls after me. "Hey, wait."

        I cringe for a split second then force myself to turn and face him. So close.

        "What?" I am almost afraid to know.

        "Shelly Briggs in having a party this Friday at her house and I thought we'd ride together. What time should I pick you up?"

        I stare at him blankly. As if I couldn't be more confused of his intensions and yet here I am more puzzled than I was at school when he offered to bring me home.

        "You want to take me to the party?"

        He nods. "Well you don't have a car, so unless you want to ride with Krista, and I'd wager you don't, I can take you."

        I flinch involuntarily when I think of the possibility of riding with Krista. I'd sooner get to the party by strapping myself to the front of a locomotive than get in a vehicle with her. She's dangerous behind the wheel of a car. Plus I don't think I have enough time to make a change to my health insurance policy before Friday.

        He laughs at my reaction. "Yeah, I thought so. So, how about it? I can be here at six."

        I groan, but I'm pretty sure he can't hear me.

        I do not want to go to this party. Though, if Matt is going, maybe I should be going too. I'm letting my phases keep me on track but maybe Krista is right. Maybe I should skip a head a coupe of phases. Matt did.

        Besides...if I'm there, I can kind of...keep an eye on him.

        "Yeah, sure. Six."

        He grins at me as he rolls up his window. "Just don't be late getting ready as usual. Six means six not seven or eight."

        As he pulls out of my driveway I roll my eyes at him. I hate that he knows me to a T. I guess I can't expect any less of him though. We did date for most of high school.

        I make it to my door and push the key in the lock. When the door comes open, I am greeted by the air conditioned living room and a completely empty house. It's the first time since in two months I've been alone in my house and I don't even have a boyfriend to appreciate it with. What a shame.

        Why do bad things always happen to good people?

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A/N

Chapter 2! What did you think of it? Lots more to come!

I'd like to give a shout out to @Me_Myself_and_Music  for the new book cover! If anyone else would like to make me one feel free to do so. Like I said before, the invitation is always open. :)

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