Then Came You

Copyright © 2012 by Cherelle McClafferty

This is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and events are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or deceased, business establishments, events, locales is entirely coincidental.

Prologue

I’ve never really been the type of girl who could talk to a total stranger like she’d known them all her life. I’ve always been cautious, protective and too nervous to really let anyone in. I keep my heart and emotions hidden behind walls made of stone and concrete, armour of baggy jumpers and a shield of long black hair I use to shadow my face like a curtain.

My mother always used to tell me that I was a feather that was too afraid to fly, so I just floated. I never got that expression, until she passed away two years ago in a car crash. That day, my world crashed around me, and I still haven’t put it back to pieces yet. It’s like all of a sudden, you don’t know what things mean anymore, and you start to question everything and everyone. What is life? Why do I exist? Is this the right thing to do?

Being numb isn’t the safest of things. It blocks your instincts, makes you unaware of what is right in front of you. Usually, I do it on purpose, meaning to keep myself safe, but then other times you miss something that could mean the world to you.

Sometimes, life throws something at you, an unexpected twist of fate that pulls your plan apart and makes your walls crack. That’s the scary part, when you feel like you’re losing control and its one big struggle to stop the bricks from falling down.

But, it’s when the walls start to crumble around you that the real danger begins. You lose control of your emotions; you don’t know what’s happening. All of a sudden, you’re left with a pile of rubble and lies, hurt and misery. It’s the moment in your life when you come very,
very
close to losing everything. Some people do.

One day, I’m terrified that day will come to me. I’m scared I’ll lose the little that I still have. But even that can’t keep the walls down. I’m not living,
I’m simply… existing
.

One

Meeting new people has never been easy for me, even before the walls. I’m shy, nervous, scared of rejection. It comes to a point that I can barely say hi to people walking past or ask a teacher a question when I’m struggling. It’s like the words just disappear somewhere between my mind and my mouth, and my tongue grows in size.

Today, I’m starting a new school, and the torture is beginning to start afresh.

Donning my black skinny jeans and a baggy jumper, I brush my long black curls and throw my light denim satchel over one shoulder. This is about as prepared as I’ll ever be, I decide with a resigned sigh, trying to ignore the fact that my insides are turning in horror.

“Darcy, you’re going to be late!” My dad yells from the kitchen. I start at the sound of his voice; he hasn’t spoken to me since he told me we were moving. He can’t even look at me without wincing. I think it’s because I’m a strong memory of mum.

I look in the mirror, hating my reflection because it brings the memories back strong. I look a lot like my mum now, with the same moss green eyes, pale, porcelain skin and thick, wavy black hair. I have the same heart-shaped face, cute, upturned nose and full pale pink lips. I’m a younger version of my mother, and yet I am nothing like her on the inside.

My mum was actually alive once. I don’t think I’ve ever really been able to smile, laugh and love the way my mum did.

“Darcy!” dad screams again, before growling in frustration and slamming the front door, probably heading to his new job.

Dad’s a construction worker, one of those grouchy, beer-belly types with lumber jacket and faded baggy jeans. We moved to Little Woods in the pretence that it was for his new job. Really, I think he just hated being surrounded by the memories. I can relate – it felt like I was suffocating every time I walked past the kitchen or her room. My heart would always twist whenever we drove past the beach where she’d drowned. It was like we were being haunted.

With a roll of my eyes, I trudge downstairs and lock the door behind me as I walk down the driveway. Our new house is a small, two-bedroom building with one bathroom, a small living room and a barely-there kitchen. It’s nothing to scream about, and I certainly don’t think dad really bothers, so long as we got out of our old house.

The walk to school was gruelling at best, with the cold air biting my fingertips and my cheeks. I was tired, miserable, and a twenty-minute walk to a place I really didn’t want to be, didn’t really help matters.

By the time I got to the regular-sized school with its grey gates, laughing pupils and busy teachers, I was a time bomb ticking to snap. And I just so happened to get my change when someone walked into me and almost sent me to my knees.

Around me, I could hear people snickering. A hand touched my shoulder and I heard someone ask if I was okay. I look up to meet a mesmerising pair of light, hazel-coloured eyes, and my heart skips a beat.
What the hell?

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” He repeats, looking almost guilty.

I glare at him sharply, getting to my feet quickly and readjusting the strap of my bag. “No, I’m fine. Excuse me.”

I try to walk past him, but he steps back in front of me again, eyebrows raised slightly. “Are you sure? I can make it up to you if you want.” I hear stifled laughter behind me. Out of my peripheral vision, a group of guys are high-fiving and nudging each other. I look back at the guy to see him winking at one of them. Outrage floods through my mind and I fold my arms over my chest, standing straighter and narrowing my eyes at him.

“I don’t
want
anything, especially not from you.” I snap, making sure to push him slightly as I walk away. Behind me, people start to laugh, but I ignore them all as I head towards the main entrance, dreading what’s more to come.

The classes are as boring as I’d expected, dragging for what seems like hours, when it’s really only one. I make sure to find a seat on my own, where I won’t have to try and make an embarrassing attempt to make small talk with a complete stranger who probably won’t even give a damn about me.

I’m just getting the hang of it, walking around the school like a ghost on a mission, when I hear someone call my name at dinner. I spine stiffens and I turn around hesitantly to see a girl with bright pink pigtails and panda eyes waving me over to a table. I smile thinly at her, pretending to not understand, turning back away and heading towards the empty lone table near the bins. I’m about to sit when I feel someone take my arms and steer me away.

“
Oh,
no, girlfriend.
Don’t you know better than to sit near the bins at
high school?
” the same voice says. She’s smiling at me as she leads me over to her original table. “Come sit with us.”

Us
consists of the pigtailed girl, a girl with ten piercings on her face alone, and a boy with eyeliner and dyed black hair. He smirks at me as I sit down next to the other girl. They seem like the sort of people you’d be scared of in high school, the bullies that aren’t jocks and cheerleaders, but people in gangs. But I decide not to think about that. Besides, who am I to judge someone on their visual appearance?

“I’m Remy,” the pink haired girl says with a smile. “I’m in your Biology class, but you probably didn’t see me.”

“No shit,” piercing-girl says, rolling her eyes and smirking. “So what’s your name, new girl?”

I eye her warily, unsure of her intentions. Is she going to hurt me? Mock me? “Darcy,” I say hoarsely. I’m not sure they heard me though, so I clear my throat and say it clearer. “My name’s Darcy.”

“Well, Darcy, my name’s Dana.
 
We have English and art class together. Can I see your schedule?” she holds her hand out expectantly, and I take it out of my pocket and give it to her, my hand shaking.

“So, Darcy, what happened with you and Prince Charming this morning? I heard he gave you an offer you couldn’t refuse… and that you refused. Can I just say, you are officially the greatest person ever, as of now?”

“How come?”
I ask, brow furrowed.
This girl can
talk,
and I’m not sure I understood everything she said.

She raises and eyebrow at me like it’s obvious. “Tyler Masters is the hottest guy in the school! And he hardly ever propositions a girl.”

“I don’t understand,” I say softly. A piece of paper is held in front of my face and I look at my time table, which is now highlighted with three different colours; pink, blue and orange.

“I’ve colour co-ordinated all the classes you have with each of us. I’m orange, Joey is blue, and Remy is pink, for obvious reasons.” Dana explains, pointing out the coloured blocks on my previously plain white time table.

Remy cranes her neck to check it out before grinning at me. “You have a lot of pink there. Lucky you, your school life just got a thousand times better.”

“Remy,
please
don’t scare her away. She seems like the only normal friend I can have,” Dana groans, playfully pushing her friend back to her seat. She turns to me and raises and eyebrow. “She’s like a giddy little puppy, I swear.” Remy responds by sticking her tongue out at her.

“Who’s Joey?” I wonder out loud.

The boy with died black hair and piercing blue eyes surrounded by eyeliner lifts his head and smirks at me. “That would be me. Welcome to the hellhound government calls ‘School’.” He nods casually, eyes twinkling with humour. He’s the most nerve-wrecking of the bunch. I don’t know his intentions
at all,
whereas Remy and Dana seem genuine enough. Who knows? Maybe high school isn’t as bad as all
that.

“Hey, don’t look now, but Prince Charming has arrived on his red carpet,” Remy says, looking at something behind me.

I turn around to see the guy from this morning walking into the cafeteria with the group of guys he’d been with before. He’s talking to the one he’d winked at, laughing at something he says. Words can’t describe this guy – from his caramel skin, tawny brown hair and those same amber-hazel eyes.

Next to me, Dana scoffs. “Nobody really gets him. He hangs around with all the players, but he never really pays any attention to girls. I think he’s gay.”

Remy squeaks a little at her admission, her eyes wide.
“No
way!
He’s too… manly and rugged. And what gay person propositions a girl?”

“It was just a thought,” Dana shrugs. “He’s not really gay, Remy.”

Joey actually looks up from his phone and rolls his eyes at us all.
“Bitches, please.
Am I not eye-candy enough for you?” he says with a smirk, pouting at us until we crack up. He shakes his head and grins before returning his attention back to his phone.

Suddenly, the bell rings and I start, the time must have gone faster thanks to the distraction of these people. Dana points at my schedule on the table and tugs at my arm. “You have drama with me now.”

“I’ll walk with you guys, it’s on my way,” Joey offers, not looking up from his phone. “Remy, text me when you get to class, I have
got
to tell you something!”

Dana rolls her eyes and pulls me along, not bothering to wait for him. “Joey is the gossip queen of our group,” she explains as we walks through the throngs of people. “He’s always got information about everyone and everything. If you want to know something – go to Joey.”

“I thought he was walking with us?” I ask, looking back to see him texting in the spot, not even two steps from the table yet.