Bluehour (A Watermagic Novel) (5 page)

Oh, it all seemed so crazy. I just hated him.
Laurent Monreau. What a horrible boy. Why was he toying with my
mind? He couldn’t possibly be interested in me romantically. He was
ultimate perfection, every girl’s dream boy. And I was just a plain
Jane wallflower. Boys like Laurent just weren’t interested in girls
like me. Why was he singling me out? And why was his girlfriend,
Marine, so determined to keep me away from him?

Thoughts like these ran through my mind all
day. I felt so confused and like I said, curiosity was my Achilles
Heel. There was no way I could let this go.

As I walked down the hall lost in a sea of
maddening thoughts, more students congratulated me on my fighting
skills at the beach. There were all sorts of juvenile high fives
thrown at me. I had to slap their hands back just to get them to
lay off me.

Every class was torture. My teachers were as
boring as ever—they mostly just discussed class syllabi and passed
out books.

The only time I forgot about Laurent and his
strange friends was in cooking class. When the teacher told us all
the elaborate dishes we were going to make, I started fearing that
I might ruin my GPA with that stupid class. I had to get straight
A’s to get into Berkley. I worried I might burn up all the foods by
mistake and end up flunking the course. The idea was more
horrendous than anything the French students could do to me. I HAD
to get into Berkley. That was my dream!

Cooking was my last class before lunch.
Agatha noticed my face was turning blue and had to steady me by the
shoulders as we left the room. I was babbling about burning up
food.

“Stop worrying,” she tried to reassure me.
“I’ll help you through the class. Cooking is easy.”

“Easy?” I said sarcastically as I rolled my
eyes. “It’s hell and I’m so awful at it.”

“You’ll do fine.” She couldn’t help but
giggle a little at what seemed to her to be over dramatics.

“I’m so angry at my mom for forcing me to
take it.”

“She just wants you to be functional in the
world,” she expressed as we turned to our locker. Every year we
choose to share a locker. It’s just easier that way since we spend
so much time together.

I was turning the combination when Ashton
Benson from the boys swim team came over. “Hey guys.” He smiled
cheerfully at both of us. “How was your summer?” His question was
directed specifically at me.

Before I answered, I jiggled the locker open.
“Boring,” I finally said with a shrug.

Agatha pushed her way in and stacked her
books neatly in the locker.

Ashton ran his fingers through his dark short
hair as he looked at me. “What did you do?”

“Mostly I just babysat my sister, Lucy, and
hung out.” I managed to put my books in the locker below Agatha’s.
“What did you do?”

He smiled as he rested his hand against the
locker beside ours, leaning confidently as he spoke. “I spent the
summer at my uncle’s beach house in Hawaii surfing and
partying.”

“Ooooh, that sounds so cool,” Agatha said
excitedly. “What island were you on?”

“Oahu.” Ashton smiled at her, but then turned
back to me. “Okay.” His voice was sing-songy. He shrugged, “I’ll
catch you later.” With that, he turned on his heel and headed
toward the cafeteria.

Agatha’s eyes widened and then she giggled.
“Oh, my!”

“What?” I asked with a smirk.

“Ashton Benson likes you!” Now she was
laughing heartily.

“Oh, come on,” I responded, chortling at her
laughter. “He’s just being friendly. He talks to everyone.”

She looked me in the eyes with a sarcastic
expression on her round face. “Yes, he’s the popular type that’s
very social, but he
likes
you.”

I shook my head, trying to ignore her. “He
just knows me from swim team.”

She smiled knowingly again. “Say what you
want. Ashton Benson is after you.”

I shrugged off what she said and we headed to
the cafeteria. We both brought sack lunches because most of the
school food had always been horrible. Lunchtime typically was an
uncomfortable experience for us because the tables were generally
taken up by large cliques. No group of kids wanted two lone
stragglers, so we had nowhere to sit. Usually, we just tried to
stand off to the side while we ate. I’d grown used to it, so it
didn’t bother me anymore and I intuited that Agatha felt the
same.

I had other opportunities to join some of the
moderately popular cliques in the past, but the girls who pursued
me had unpleasant qualities that repelled me one way or another.
Usually, I was put in a position of having to abandon Agatha or
join the clique. There was no way in hell I would give up Agatha
for some insecure, wannabe snobs.

In many ways I didn’t feel like I fit in at
school. The social groups didn’t make sense to me. It seemed more
rational to make friends with people you liked rather than with
people who made you look good to others. I never understood why
people cared so much about fitting in. I liked doing my own thing
and not worrying about what anybody thought of me. Life was much
easier that way.

My mother used to call me a fifty-year-old
kid. In some ways she was right, but in other ways, I was really
immature, especially when I was behind the wheel or when it came to
breaking rules. For some strange reason, I loved the adrenaline
rush of danger. And even though I knew intellectually that my
inclinations were childish, I couldn’t live without those thrills.
Life would be too boring.

Agatha and I traded lunches. We did that a
lot because we often found that when we made lunch for the other,
we got more creative and the food tasted better.

“I made you a submarine sandwich,” Agatha
commented as we leaned against the wall set off from the tables.
She looked inside the lunch bag I handed her. “Oh, you brought me
tacos! I love those.”

“Yeah, my mom got to-go food last night.
They’re really good.”

While we were chatting and eating, Danny
walked up. “How’s your first day back at school going?” he asked
me.

Agatha looked the slightest bit disappointed
that he directed the question at me.

“I felt like a wallflower next to Agatha;
guys kept hitting on her because of her new hairstyle. It’s
annoying.”

He turned to Agatha and looked at her. “Oh,
yeah. You’re hair looks good.” He touched his own blond hair that
was hair sprayed in place.

“Thanks,” she said trying not to laugh at my
comment. “How was your first day?”

“Oh, boy,” he snorted. “My first day was
busy.” His mouth turned to an exaggerated frown. He seemed to be
looking at Agatha more closely. I saw him looking at her lips.

“Why? What happened?” Agatha looked very
curious.

He snorted again. “The principal assigned me
to escort the très beaux to their classes. I even have to eat lunch
with them.”

Agatha’s eyes widened. “Wow! Really?” She
looked at me.

I was trying to keep a blank expression.
Anything in regards to the French students made my mind spin. I
hoped if I kept quiet, the conversation would shift to something
else.

“Mrs. Peters thought that I would be the best
guy to show them around because I know them from work.” He shook
his head in bewilderment.

“That’s right,” Agatha whispered. “They eat
at the Sea View Chateau.” She grasped his arm. “Is that blond
Marine girl a real lunatic?”

He smiled when Agatha took his arm. “She’s
been very polite. I think she likes me.” He laughed hysterically at
his own fantasy.

“In your dreams.” Agatha slapped his shoulder
playfully.

“I have to go back to them. Why don’t you
come and sit with us?” His expression was hopeful as he looked to
me first and then to Agatha.

“Oh, no. I couldn’t,” I said quickly.

“Come on,” Agatha pleaded. “It could be
exciting.” She knew I was a thrill seeker.

“No way,” I protested. “Not after that fight
with Marine on the beach. It would be too weird.” Truthfully, the
fight was the least of my concerns. I was terrified of Laurent.

“Please, please, please,” Agatha begged.
“Aren’t you curious about them? They are so different and
fascinating. Everybody’s talking about them.”

I felt bad because I knew how much Agatha was
crushing on Danny and I knew this was a good opportunity for her to
be around him. If he just got to know her, he might recognize how
truly adorable she was. I looked across the room and saw the clan
eating and conversing together. My curiosity was in full force, but
I just couldn’t do it. I hated Laurent for how he made me feel.

“Agatha,” I said sternly. “No, I can’t.” I
looked her straight in the eyes. “No.”

“Okay.” Her tone was dejected. “Maybe another
time,” she mumbled to Danny.

“No. You go,” I encouraged Agatha. “I’ll be
fine. You can tell me all about them.”

Danny looked eager for company, but Agatha
wrinkled her face. “Not in a million years am I going to leave
you.” She giggled playfully now. “You and me together forever.”

I didn’t deserve a friend like her. Agatha
was truly gold.

“Alright, gals,” Danny huffed. “I better get
back to my job.” He rolled his eyes, but I could tell that he loved
being the “one” to escort the gorgeous, mysterious clan around.

I just wanted to leave. My mind felt all
messed up when I thought about the très beaux as Danny and his
friends called them, and even more so about Laurent.

“I’m feeling kind of sick,” I whispered to
Agatha. “The French students make me uncomfortable.”

“That one from the beach, Laurent, is looking
at you.”

I froze.

“He keeps glancing in our direction, but his
eyes are on you.”

She kept chattering on about it, but I kept
my gaze to the ground. My mind was spinning with the information.
What did he want with me?

“They are all so unusual,” Agatha continued.
“The one with the long shiny black hair… I think Brigitte is her
name. She’s so stunning in her pink French style blouse with jewels
of many colors around her neck. She must be dating the one with
dark brown long hair who Danny called Marcel because she has her
hand on his leg. He’s wearing a long overcoat. That’s a unique
choice in clothing—kind of hot for this time of year. Don’t you
think?”

She tapped me on the shoulder, but I was
still looking at the ground. “Hello to Grace. Anybody home?”

I looked at her slowly. “Is Laurent still
watching me?”

“No. He’s eating now. They look like they
love their food. I wonder what they’re munching on.”

I looked over at them. Both Laurent and his
friend, Pascal, were utterly gorgeous, clad in slacks and t-shirts.
Laurent’s long golden brown hair fell loosely down his back while
Pascal’s black hair was tied over his shoulder.

My throat tightened. I noticed that I was
perspiring. My fingernails went right into my mouth and I started
chewing on them anxiously.

The bell rang and quickly I rushed off to my
next class. I couldn’t wait for the day to end. I even considered
skipping swim team so that I could gather my thoughts at home.
Originally, I was disappointed I was on restriction, but now I was
glad. Losing myself in household chores and isolation seemed like a
great escape from my maddening thoughts. But, I couldn’t miss
practice. It wouldn’t be a good way to start the season. I needed
to do well on the team because Berkley expected excellence in
extracurricular activities as well as in academics.

Once the school day ended, I was relieved to
head for the water. I had to borrow a bathing suit from the barrel
they kept in the locker room because I forgot mine. It looked
horrible on me. It was all stretched out in the stomach area,
almost shredding, and too short in the torso which made it look way
too French cut. I didn’t care. I was used to looking like a
buffoon.

I was sitting with all my teammates on the
benches. We were going to do pool exercises with the boy’s team.
The coach wanted us to pair up with the boys because they were
stronger and could challenge us. I thought the idea was
idiotic.

Coach Sanchez was really stupid in my
opinion. I remember last year she was always coming up with
creative activities in the pool. As far as I was concerned, we just
needed to do laps and practice racing. All of her crazy exercises
were useless.

The boys’ coach opened the gate and the boys
entered the pool area. He directed them to the benches against the
fence across the way from the girls. They were rowdy as guys
are.

Ashton Benson was wrestling another guy
playfully with his arm around his neck as he smiled at me from
across the cement deck. I smiled back surprised by the sudden
attention I was receiving from him. He was attractive and I
wondered what he wanted with me.

But, then my head involuntarily jolted back
in strong reaction to the sight before me. To my utter shock, I saw
that Laurent was one of the boys. He had joined the swim team.

My adrenaline started rushing something
awful. I wanted to leave desperately. At once, I began looking
around, trying to figure out how I could slip away without anyone
noticing.

After a couple of minutes of panic, my anger
took over. Who was I kidding? I couldn’t just quit swim team
because of him. And I wasn’t going to let him scare me away.

I crossed my arms over my chest and looked
around. Some of the girls on the team were looking at Laurent. The
way their eyes softened, I got the strong impression that they
thought he was attractive. Some of them started whispering amongst
themselves excitedly and then looking back at him.

He didn’t seem to even notice though. He was
just running his fingers across the bars of the metal fence like
strings on a harp as he walked toward the benches across from us. I
got the feeling from the way he was tilting his ear and looking up
just the slightest bit that he was listening to the sounds his
fingers made against the metal.