Not Me: Chapter Two, Part One
There were some days where Amanda really, really loved her little sister. Of course, she always loved Sam, but on some occasions, Sam was just so nice to her, that she remembered how lucky she was. Today was definitely one of them, especially on the car ride back to the house from the park. Instead of attacking her with questions about why she had kissed Mark, or whether they were boyfriend or girlfriend, or what the hell Mark’s hands were doing under her shirt, Sam babbled about how much fun she had had with Aimee. When she brought up the suggestion of making the park a weekly thing, Amanda felt so guilty for kissing her little sister’s friend’s older brother who also happened to be a jerk, that she readily agreed and even added an “Or, more often than that, whatever you want,” without really thinking about the consequences.
The rest of the weekend passed by too quickly, as always, and was rather uneventful. Amanda did her homework, helped Sam with hers, cleaned about half of the house, and scolded herself for every second that she spent thinking about the park. Which, to her frustration, was a lot of seconds. A lot of minutes, actually, if she were totally honest.
She hated him. She hated the fact that he thought he was so cool. She hated the fact that he could be so calm and that he tried to convince her to be calm, too. She hated the fact that he could casually mention completely inappropriate things and make her blush. She hated the fact that she had enjoyed kissing him so much and that not only did she let him touch her, but she wanted him to, and she had wanted to touch him too. But, most of all, she hated the fact that he could make her hate him so much. Because she acknowledged the fact that hating someone meant spending time and energy on them and actually feeling something for them, since hate was a very powerful emotion. And she didn’t want to feel anything for Mark Randall, especially not something as strong as hate.
Mandy didn’t see Mark at all Monday morning, which struck her as odd because their high school really wasn’t that big, and she usually saw him in the hall multiple times throughout the day. When she realized she was letting herself waste time on thinking about him, she pushed harder on the mechanical pencil she was writing with in frustration. The lead snapped. She swore under her breath and pushed down on the eraser. No lead was coming out. She aggressively tossed the pencil into her open pencil case and glared when Brittany gave her a confused look.
“Something you want to share?” Brittany whispered.
They were in the library, their favorite place to go when they had finished eating their lunch, and the school librarian was one of those librarians who took her job entirely too seriously. She was known to throw students out for speaking too loudly or too often, apparently not realizing exactly how difficult it is for high school students to be quiet for any extended amount of time. Ms. Hoag actually liked Amanda and Brittany, but that didn’t mean that they were exempt from her strict rules on behavior in the library.
“No,” Mandy whispered back, “Just a bad day.”
“Hmm.”
Brittany had that annoying ability that comes along with years of friendship to detect when Mandy was lying about something. It was both a gift and a curse to Mandy, who didn’t always appreciate Brittany seeing through her poorly told lies.
“I didn’t sleep well last night.” she added pathetically, as if that would make her story so much more believable.
Brittany nodded. “Right.”
“Yeah.”
“So, you didn’t sleep well, and now you’re taking it on your pencils?”
“Exactly.”
“Ah. And why didn’t you sleep well?”
“I… had a lot on my mind.”
“Like….”
Mandy was saved from having to come up with an answer to that by Mark, who walked up to their table. She couldn’t decide whether she was thankful for his presence or annoyed by it, so she ignored both him and the look Brittany was giving her.
“Can I talk to you?”
Ms. Hoag glared at him. He smiled at her and whispered an apology.
“No,” Mandy whispered, “I suppose you can take a seat and whisper to me, if you want.”
“Could we, uh, talk, I mean, whisper, privately?”
Mandy looked up at him for the first time. He looked uncomfortable, which confused her and amused her at the same time.
“Fine.” She stood up and walked over to the biography section, (she wasn’t actually sure if it counted as a ‘section’, since it was rather small, as was the library in general) located in the back corner of the library.
“Okay, so about the other day…” Mark began, avoiding Mandy’s eyes. Unfortunately for him, his eyes rested on her shirt instead.
“First of all, I have a face, it’s up here,” Mandy pointed, “Second, it’s not going to happen again.”
Mark blinked. “Right.”
“Because I hate you,” Mandy added.
“I hate you, too.”
“Good.”
“Good.”
“Great.”
“Fantastic.”
They stood in silence for a few seconds. Mandy stared at a biography of Abraham Lincoln. Mark, as expected, broke the silence.
“So, Aimee said that the park is going to become a regular thing?”
Mandy nodded, took her eyes off of the book and regretted it the instant she found herself staring at Mark’s arms. “Yes.” He had nice muscles…. Mandy had always been picky about men’s muscles. While she appreciated them, and found them attractive, she didn’t like when they were overly big and unnatural looking. Mark’s muscles were entirely natural looking. And, she was doing it again. Wasting time on him. Shit. She looked up to ask if that was all he wanted to say, and noticed that he was closer. Why did he have to do that? It wasn’t fair.
“Wh-“ this time, she didn’t even get to finish her question, which she already knew the answer to, before he was kissing her. It took her a few seconds to realize that she was kissing Mark in the library. The school library. While the bookshelves were tall enough to hide them from the students at tables and, more importantly, the librarian at her desk, it was entirely possible that someone could walk into the biography section and find them. That thought should have been enough to make Amanda stop. But it wasn’t. Stupid Mark and his stupid kissing and what did he think he was doing with his hands? She finally, reluctantly, took a step back.
Silence again.
Mandy had to force herself not to step forward and start kissing him again. And she hated him for that. Without saying a word, or even looking at her, Mark turned around and walked out of the library, leaving Mandy frustrated and confused and hating him even more. Fuck him, she thought, pushing back the images that came seconds afterwards.
She gave herself a few seconds to calm down and allow her face to return to its normal, unusually pale color. Then, she walked back to her table, where Brittany waited with a look that said “You better tell me what the hell that was all about before I start screaming”. Amanda ignored the look. They had been friends for over ten years, and during that time, Amanda had perfected the art of ignoring her best friend. This may seem cruel and very unfriendlike, but considering it was Brittany’s look, and Brittany could convince anyone to do anything using only her eyes, the fact that Amanda could ignore said looks was really quite impressive.
Five minutes passed, and Amanda fully believed that she had escaped Brittany’s interrogation. Brittany simply read her book and let Mandy work on her precalculus homework in peace. And then, out of nowhere:
“What did he want?”
Amanda groaned. “Nothing.”
Her eyes remained on the paper in front of her. She hated math. It wasn’t that she was bad at it, because she was actually quite good at it. And she understood why other people loved it; it was nice because there was always only one right answer, which wasn’t always the case in other subjects. But she, Amanda Clark, could not love math, no matter how much she may want to. It annoyed her and frustrated her.
“Yeah, that one is not gonna work this time.” Brittany set down the book and turned in her chair so that she could properly give Mandy one of her infamous looks. “If it was nothing, he could have said it in front of me. But he asked to talk to you alone and the he left looking all frustrated.”
He looked frustrated? He was the one who did the frustrating, not the one who should be frustrated. Amanda rolled her eyes.
“It was just about his little sister meeting up with Sam.”
“Oh?” Brittany obviously did not believe it. At all. “And he couldn’t say that with me here because….”
“Who knows. He’s a dickhead.”
Brittany laughed and Mandy glared at her. The glare might not work on Brittany after ten years, but she had the kindness to at least pretend that it did.
“I’m sorry, but did you just say dickhead?”
“Yes…”
Brittany’s laughing started again.
“What? You say it all of the time!”
“I know that I do. I say a lot of things like that. You don’t.”
Mandy was usually outwardly patient with Brittany, even if she secretly wanted to strangle her best friend. But all off her faux patience had been taken away for the day, marching out the door closely behind Mark. So, her words came out a little bit more snappy than she intended.
“Didn’t know that I wasn’t allowed to use slang words, Britt. Are contractions okay? Because I have already used two of those.”
Brittany rolled her eyes. “No need to bite my head off. All I’m saying is that it’s not like you to call someone a dickhead.”
“I thought the term fit.”
“Okay…”
“Have you ever talked to him?” Amanda was suddenly feeling defensive. Why wouldn’t Brittany just agree that Mark was a dickhead and move on? She had agreed that the girl Brittany was tutoring was a bitch the other day. That’s what best friend were supposed to do!
“Um, no.” Brittany said, as though the question was ridiculous, “Unpopular and only child. What reason would he have to talk to me?”
“Then you wouldn’t understand.” Brittany opened her mouth to respond, but Mandy quickly cut her off before she could speak, “Don’t talk to him.”
“But, why, mommy?”
“He’s stupid and immature and selfish and annoying.”
Brittany looked amused and it annoyed Mandy more than it should have.
“What?”
“You really don’t like him.”
“No shit, Sherlock.” She started putting things back into her backpack, knowing that the bell would be ringing soon. “And it’s not that I don’t like him. I hate him.”
Amanda didn’t wait to hear Brittany’s reply. She slung the backpack over her shoulder and left the library, not noticing the glare she received from Ms. Hoag for leaving before the bell had rung.