Distraction: The Distraction Trilogy #1 (4 page)

BOOK: Distraction: The Distraction Trilogy #1
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Eloise

 

Living in a small town has its advantages and its disadvantages. Frequently seeing people you know can be both a good thing and a bad thing.

If you’re trying to avoid somebody, it’s impossible and if you’re trying to find somebody, it’s possible. It’s also nice bumping into people you don’t expect to see but are happy to look at.

I won’t deny I turned slightly stalker when I saw Mr Price enter the shop. I followed him to the drinks aisle, but quickly disappeared after our brief conversation. If he noticed the lack of pop in my trolley, he’d know I had no reason to be down that aisle and that I’d probably followed him. Or maybe that’s just me being paranoid. He seemed to be thinking deeply about something and I don’t think it had much to do with the lemonade he was staring harshly at.

Mrs Price has mentioned her son on a few occasions in lessons in the past. She was and is very proud of him, but from her stories you could tell there was something going on there, a reason why she never had anything recent to tell us that seemed to be a personal memory. It all seemed like relayed information, as if retelling news rather than experiencing the event.

My mum always said I thought too deeply about things that didn’t matter. Speaking of which, I bet she’s wondering where I am.

I’m not even sure why I turned stalker on Mr Price. He gave us homework on the first day. I mean… who does that?

Chapter Three

 

Eloise

 

Being late on day two of sixth form is probably not the best impression to make with my Maths teacher, Mr Diplock. He’s a cool guy, but harbours a strict no nonsense attitude.

I contemplate skipping class completely as I race down the empty halls towards the classroom where my lesson is being held.

I may look slim, but I’m definitely not fit enough to run more than five feet at any one time. Still, I make it to the door only fifteen minutes after the bell has rung. Unfortunately I’m wheezing like a dying man as my lungs fight for the air I deprived them of as I ran.

Once I’ve calmed myself, I wince and open the door quietly, hoping the inside is noisy and I can sneak in undetected. Luck isn’t on my side today as twenty heads lift and stare in my direction.

“Sorry, Mr Diplock,” I say, stepping fully into the room and shutting the door behind me. “It won’t happen again.”

Mr Diplock sharpens his dark gaze on my face, his body tense and his demeanour clearly holding no small amount of annoyance. “You’re right, it won’t.” He sits on the side of his desk, his eyes still on me.

I’m about to make my way towards an empty seat at the back of the room when he clears his throat, stopping me in my tracks.

“I remember last year, you were late to four lessons and didn’t show up to…” He taps on the tablet in his hand before pinning me with another stern gaze. “Twelve lessons. Considering there are only… I’ll let you work it out. There are fifty-two weeks in a year and, in total, students at this school get thirteen weeks off for their holidays and recreation. If we have two lessons a week, what percentage of lessons did you miss last year?”

I gulp, my mind a blur of numbers and my eyes blurred with humiliation.

“You don’t know? Well then I guess you can leave, figure out the answer and bring it with you for Wednesday’s lesson.” He holds out a sheet of paper. I move forward nervously and take it from him. “You can also handle these, seeing as you don’t need my class to help you further your education and would rather sleep in.”

“But, Sir…” I try, but quickly close my mouth when he strolls past me and opens the door, waving his arm to motion me through.

I keep my eyes on the floor, too scared to look up at my peers, who are no doubt laughing silently.

I’m ashamed of the tear that falls after the door is slammed behind me and even more ashamed of the one that follows quickly after. My feet carry me along the empty hallway to nowhere in particular. I keep my head down, my heart hammering an angry beat as my humiliation turns to anger and the urge to go back and call Mr Diplock a few choice names almost overwhelms me.

Using the back of my hand, I wipe my tears away and continue onward, my face buried in my scarf that hangs in a loop around my neck. My hands grip my elbows and my body shakes with frustration.

How could he humiliate me like that? Sure I shouldn’t have been late, but that was just… it was mean. It was unnecessary.

I make a left towards the sixth form common area and pray that it’s empty. Right now I need to be left alone to my own mind and the vending machine.

 

The spacious room has groups of couches on one side and computers on the other for last minute study time. It’s empty, save for the pictures on the walls and the shelves full of random non-fiction books and ledgers. I exhale a breath of relief and slump onto the nearest couch, the one hidden in the corner, so anybody walking past won’t see me and think I’m taking a morning nap.

I wish.

I’m far too annoyed right now to even think about napping.

I don’t think I’ve ever been in a situation so humiliating. I hate being the centre of attention, especially when it’s negative. Sure, I don’t shrink away from group settings and animated chatter, but I certainly don’t go looking for situations where I’ll be in the spotlight. I’m happy to just mingle and have a good time.

That right there, in that stupid arse classroom, was definitely not my definition of a good time.

I rest on my back on the soft, leather sofa with my legs hanging over the arm. My eyes scan the ceiling tiles and count the stains and marks as my lungs fill to bursting point before releasing. I breathe this way over and over again, in an attempt to control my temper and my need to cry.

“Mr Diplock is a twat,” a voice I immediately recognise as Garrett’s says and I feel the couch sink, not far from my head.

Without moving, I point my eyes further up and see his cute, smiling face peering down at me. “You were in there?”

“Yeah, there were a few people in there.”

“Great,” I mutter and throw my arm over my face to hide the red flaming in my cheeks. “How badly did they laugh?”

His warm fingers wrap around my wrist and pull it up as he leans over me, still smiling, showing perfectly aligned teeth. His mum obviously made him care about his dental hygiene. This is good; it means he’ll taste nice if he ever decides to kiss me.

“They didn’t. Most of them stayed silent, but Riley…”

“Riley was in there?” He’ll never let me live that down.

“Riley called him a cock, in those exact words.”

I blink, frowning slightly in disbelief. “For real?”

“For real.” Chuckling, he releases my wrist and waits for me to sit up beside him. “He was mean. He shouldn’t have singled you out like that. You weren’t the only one who was late. That kid with the greasy hair…”

“Harry?”

“Yeah, he showed up five minutes before you did and Diplock didn’t say shit.”

“I did miss quite a few classes last year though.” I wasn’t exactly on my best behaviour last year, that’s for sure.

“It doesn’t matter. It’s the second day and everybody is still getting used to the new routine after six weeks of fun. Plus, you work at Crystal’s coffee shop right?”

“Yeah, I finished late last night.”

“It’s in the sixth form guide book that if you work, you’re allowed a bit of leeway with your tutors. It’s only right.”

My brow quirks and I laugh a little. “You read the guide book?”

He looks as embarrassed as I did only minutes ago and his hand scratches at the back of his neck. “I like to be informed.”

Tilting my head slightly, my smile softens along with my eyes and I respond, “That’s not a bad thing.”

His pale cheeks turn slightly pink and he chews the inside of his cheek as we hold each other’s eyes for a brief moment that seems to last an age. I almost forgot how much I like Garrett. He’s not like the other guys in town, not as far as I can tell anyway.

“Want to go to the food hall and get a coffee?” He suggests, standing and holding out his hand for me to take.

I nod and slide my hand into his, smiling secretly when he keeps a hold of it and leads me from the room.

Isaac

 

I’ve finally finished going over yesterday’s work after a long night and an even longer morning. I was hoping for a bit of peace and quiet, a wish that can never be granted when working in a secondary school slash college. My dad advised me that the best time to get a hot drink is during first period, as almost every student has a class and the ones that don’t never show up until second period. So I’m disappointed when I hear the sound of laughter coming from the food hall.

Maybe whoever it is are getting a late breakfast. I hope so. I need them as far away from the drinks machine as possible; my migraine is killing me.

Clearly that is too much to wish for too, as they seem to be sat at a table right beside the machine. Bloody hell.

Rubbing my tired eyes, I set off towards the students, keeping my eyes on my schedule on the screen of my tablet.

“Morning, Mr Price,” a sweet, soft female voice calls as I make my way over.

I look up and nod at the red haired girl whose hands hold a steaming cup of liquid that has to be coffee; it’s too dark to be tea. The boy beside her, one I don’t recognise, also holds a cup and a friendly smile. Probably her boyfriend.

“Morning.” I move past them and drop a few coins into the machine, pressing the button for a cappuccino. The machine makes a few dangerous sounding noises before a plastic cup drops into a holder and starts to fill with my choice of drink. Eloise and the unknown male talk in whispers behind me. I vaguely hear the name of my colleague and old friend, Mr Diplock, but I pay no attention.

“So are you actually going to answer that maths question?” Is the last thing I hear the boy ask as I grab my coffee and make my way back to my classroom. The second I step through the door, the bell rings. I down my drink with two painkillers, ignoring the way it burns my throat.

The class soon fills with a group of animated year nines, who don’t seem keen to do much more than check their phones and talk about the coming weekend. This is going to be a long day.

 

“Hey, Isaac, do you want to go off grounds for lunch?” Katherine asks me after practically bouncing into my room, smiling brightly and almost seductively. She wants me; I can tell. It’s not hard to see. I should consider it. Fuck, I should just do it, but that’s a headache I don’t need right now. She doesn’t seem the type to give up on somebody after one night. Sure, she’d probably open her legs easily enough but she’d also sink her claws in, and being claimed isn’t on my bucket list right now.

Even though I won’t screw her, that doesn’t mean I won’t join her for lunch. Lord knows I could do with a few friends in this miserable town. “Sounds good. I’ll go find Stuart.”

Her disappointment is clear, but I don’t care. The sooner she sees that I’m not marriage and baby material the better.

Stuart, as expected, is all for a lunch away from school. Lunch time is the only free time he gets, at least that’s what I assume since he’s got a female ball and chain and two miniature ones. He seems happy enough, though.

We head to a place on the edge of town. It’s new and wasn’t here before I left for university God knows how many years ago. It’s strange that once you hit twenty-three, the years just start rolling by. Sure I’m only twenty nine, but I feel older, yet less mature than I should be. Time is flying and I’m in no hurry to settle down just yet. Maybe when I’m thirty-five, assuming I’m still alive.

Carpe diem.

“How are your classes?” Stuart asks after we sit by the window and pick up the menus.

“Not as interesting as my classes back in the city. Kids here are so riled all of the time.”

Katherine nods slowly, her lips pinching. “I have a feeling this school year isn’t going to be the best. Like last year.”

Stuart shudders slightly. “Yeah, last year was… manic. Uncontrolled chaos.”

“Fortunately for us, most of the chaos kids have left and the ones that have stayed behind seem to have calmed down a lot.”

I relax back into my seat and wait for the waitress to come over and take our order. She does so the second my thought ends and ushers herself away quickly enough.

“So tell us about life in Cambridge. That is where you’ve transferred from, right?” Katherine pouts slightly, her thin lips plump, and I know she’s trying to draw my attention to her mouth. I let her have it for a second before returning my eyes to hers and responding, “It was good, modern, high tech and easy. Everything is done by hand here, whereas students in my old school all had netbooks to work on.”

“The joys of working in a private school.” Stuart laughs a little. “It’s kind of shit seeing everyone from school make it in the bigger world while we all stay here. I’ve barely been more than two hours away and that was for a trip to that Holiday Park in Cleethorpes.”

“There’s nothing wrong with this town…” Katherine interjects, clearly affronted.

“Not if you’re not a teacher looking after three hundred bored teens with a will to smash our cars and egg our houses.”

She closes her mouth and opens it a few times before admitting defeat and quietening for a while. We all sit in silence until our food arrives. It’s awkward and uncomfortable, but we seem to share a mutual loathing for our current positions. Sure, we love being teachers. What we don’t love is the lack of power we seem to have at present. Kids don’t listen to us anymore. We have to do something to change that. Teaching is the only purpose I seem to have in life at the moment. It’s the only thing that gets me up in the morning and it’s the only thing that brings me any kind of happiness.

“We’ll figure it out,” I tell them and take a sip of my drink. “We’ll figure something out.”

 

Eloise

 

I have my tutorial just before lunch and don’t bother stopping to eat with my friends. My humiliation from this morning still hasn’t fully abated and I honestly need to just go home for an hour and lick my wounds before work.

The weather doesn’t seem to be on my side and the rain hammers on the ground as I make my way home. With each quick step, water splashes up my ankles and my hair sticks to my neck and shoulders. Why didn’t I wear a warmer jacket? My scarf has been officially rendered useless; it would be better suited as a dishcloth right now.

Upon entering my house, I’m not happy to see that it’s empty. Dad is probably working his arse off as usual and Mum, as usual, is probably getting her nails done. It’s not an issue; my dad works hard so she doesn’t have to. He’s a bit old fashioned like that and my mum does her stuff around the house, making it nice for when he comes home. It all seems a little sexist to me, but if that’s what they both enjoy then why not? I’d happily pack in work to be supported by a handsome man who thinks the world of me. What person wouldn’t?

After a quick shower to warm my freezing skin, I dress in warm jeans and a waterproof jacket, doubled with a thick jumper underneath. I place my work clothes in my bag, along with my shoes, and tuck my phone into my bra to keep it extra protected. The rain hasn’t abated at all and I’m not looking forward to this trip to work. Now I’m starting to wish Mum was home. We share a car and have done ever since my dad took mine off me six months ago, only two months after I got it. That’s the reason I’m working now, trying to save up for my own car so I have something to drive when I start University in Boston next September. At least, that’s where I’m hoping to go. It is at least two hours away, which is far enough for me to have my own life but close enough for me to drive back if I need.

Which I most likely will need to do on occasion.

 

“I’m early, I ran, I need to change and sit down.” I pant after racing into Crystal’s and almost colliding with the eighty-eight year old woman herself. “Sorry.”

“Go,” she snorts and ushers me into the back room, where I hastily change and take five minutes to collect myself.

I tie my hair into a bun atop my head and head back out to the till. Crystal throws me an apron, which I tie into place, and announces that it’s her break time. I watch the silvery haired woman vanish into the same room I just vacated.

Then I get to work. Due to the lack of customers I’m able to check my phone, sighing when I see multiple messages from friends asking me to go to a party. I really wish I could, but I don’t finish until nine. I’m on clean up duty.

Hayley, being the awesome friend that she is, decides to come and sit with me as I work. I’m definitely grateful for the company, there’s no doubt about that.

“Shitty day at school?” She asks, leaning against the counter as I wipe down the boards.

“I feel like our whole lives are consumed by schooling and education at the moment. I get that we need to work hard, but I just don’t feel as into it as I was in year eleven.”

She nods, frowning slightly. “I know, everything just feels so serious now. Especially since we failed our mock exams last year, even if we passed our AS studies. That was scary.”

“I need fun, but Dad won’t let me out later than ten at the moment. He really doesn’t trust me.”

She laughs loudly and I’m startled by the sound, seeing as I didn’t say anything funny. “Sorry, I was just remembering when I vomited on his shoes during the holidays.”

Now it’s my turn to laugh. “You’re vile. They were his best work shoes.”

“Who cares? He took your car, remember?” Her eyebrows wag, making her blue eyes brighten and widen. “Speaking of which, guess who’s going to ask you out soon.”

“Who?” Please say Garrett, please, please, please!

“Garrett, obviously. I heard him say to Riley that he thinks you’re a top lass.”

My face falls. “Top lass? That’s hardly lad speak for wife material.”

“He doesn’t seem the type to do lad speak. This could be the beginning of something special.”

“Or a disaster,” I mutter, ushering her out of the way when a customer walks in and heads straight to the desk. I prepare their order and watch them make their way towards a table by the window. “We’ve only got thirty eight weeks left of school, then I’m going to Boston University and you, my ‘bestest’ friend, are going to London to pursue your singing career.” I give her a long look before adding. “Even though you can’t sing for shit.”

“Oh come on, you know I was kidding. I’m just romanticising reality. I’m going to be stuck in this hellhole forever. I’ll probably end up a teacher like Mr Diplock and never leave.”

My heart twitches and my eyes become round with concern. “Hayley, you’re smart enough to be anything you want. Don’t give up.”

“Coming from Miss Easy A herself.”

I roll my eyes. “I failed my mocks last year too, H.”

“Only because you stopped trying.”

“The same goes for you! You were only one grade below me in your GCSEs. Four B and three C grades are nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Whatevs.” She rolls her eyes and taps away at the phone in her hand. “Please ditch work early and come to the party. Can’t you just do the clean-up in the morning? We can party until eleven and then get up at five tomorrow, clean everywhere and go straight to class.”

“That’s not going to happen. No way in hell am I waking up before seven. Not a chance.”

“Lazy. I’m up every morning before seven with my little brother at the moment. He’s a fucking nightmare, I swear.”

“But totally adorable,” I add and she can’t deny the truth behind that statement.

“Maybe I should bring the party here.”

“Don’t. I have homework to do.”

“I know; what is up with the teachers giving us work during the first week? It’s insane.”

And I definitely can’t deny the truth behind that.

She leans over the counter and gives me a kiss on the cheek, leaving a sticky patch from her peach coloured lip gloss. “I’m out of here. I’ll keep Garrett warm for you.”

I growl possessively, which only makes her cackle as she leaves the shop, making sure to flip me off on her way out. When did we suddenly become so… grown up? I don’t remember a time we’ve ever had such a serious conversation about our grades and futures before. She really did look nervous about hers, although probably no more nervous than I am about mine. I just wish I could figure out who I am and what I want to be for the rest of my life.

“Have a hot chocolate,” Crystal calls as she exits the back room and sits on her old lady chair (as we call it because only she uses it) behind the desk beside me. “Chocolate releases endorphins that make you happy and sometimes in love. You look like you need a dose of smiles right now.”

I nod, but don’t set about making one. I really don’t fancy a hot chocolate right now.

Crystal’s wrinkled yet soft hand grasps my wrist and gives it a little tug. I look down into her warm eyes and wait for the wisdom she’s about to part with. “My Mam always said worrying about your future is like throwing a deck of cards into the air and trying to predict where each card will land. It’s just not going to happen that way. You’ll never know until it happens, so don’t fret, kid. You’re smart, you’re funny, you’re gorgeous and you’ll live your life in a way that will make us old biddies envy you. Carpe Diem, Elle. Carpe Diem. Work hard, play hard, stay out of trouble and everything will be fine.”

“Thanks Crystal.”

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