Lessons in Love Page 10

  “Thanks everyone for meeting on such short notice,” Alex began, ignoring Sophie’s comment and the daggers she was sending with her eyes.

  “I know you all want to get home, so I won’t mess around.” Alex cleared her throat nervously as Claire in the front row mouthed the words ‘good luck.’

  “Due to my failing grades, I am unfortunately being forced to resign my position as captain and also to retire completely from the squad until my grades improve.”

  There were gasps of shock followed by frantic whispering among the ranks.

  “In the meantime, Sophie will be your interim captain.” Alex gestured towards Sophie, who eagerly stood up and began to address the girls about their next practice, as though she’d been rehearsing that very moment for months.

  Alex sat down next to Claire but didn’t listen to what was being said. It no longer affected her. It felt strange to suddenly be so detached from the group, but it was also exhilarating. As if now Alex was truly trying to make it on her own, no longer needing the support of an elitist team to keep her going.

  Fifteen minutes later, when Sophie was done lecturing the team, the girls disbanded. Alex began walking towards the parking lot with Claire, slightly saddened that they wouldn’t get to spend as much time together and wondering if their friendship would survive the absence.

  “Hey, ex-captain, wait up!” Sophie jogged up to them, her tone friendlier than normal.

  Alex and Claire stopped and turned to face her.

  “I had no idea the meeting would be so positive.” Sophie beamed.

  “Yeah, you got captain. Dream come true for you,” Claire noted sourly.

  “I’m just shocked you gave it up,” Sophie addressed Alex directly, ignoring Claire.

  “I had no choice.”

  “Sure you did. You could have taken it to a hearing, argued your case with the principal. Seems you just rolled over and accepted your punishment a little too eagerly.”

  “Hey, that’s not fair!” Claire said, springing to Alex’s defence.

  “Which teacher exactly bestowed the punishment?” Sophie asked with feigned bewilderment.

  Alex gritted her teeth in anger.

  “Oh yes, it was the extremely sexy Mr. Simmons. So of course Alex Heron just accepts it. What else of his do you accept?” Sophie asked snidely.

  “Back off, Sophie!” Alex warned tersely. “You should just be happy you’re captain.”

  “Oh, I am. I’m delirious with joy. And now that I’m captain, I intend to stay captain.” Sophie’s tone was hostile.

  “You’re only captain until Alex gets her grades back up,” Claire interjected.

  “That may be, but if Alex’s good name gets soiled with some sort of scandal, or even the suggestion of one, they’d never let you be captain again.”

  “The only scandal is the one you’ve made up in your head,” Alex bit back.

  “Perhaps.” Sophie shrugged, her eyes flickering with menace. “But people talk. And while talk is cheap, someone always ends up paying for it.”

  Satisfied with her threats, Sophie skipped away.

  “Don’t listen to her. She’s just evil,” Claire advised.

  “Yeah, I know.” Alex forced herself to sound flippant, but inwardly she was panicked. What if people were talking? Nothing had happened between her and Mark, but the mere suggestion of it would be enough to mar her name in scandal. It would be enough to threaten the future Alex was now striving to secure for herself.

  Alex wanted to cry. She needed to go back to her old bedroom, to put on her record player and watch the trees beyond the window, and cry until her anguish passed. But there was no bedroom or record player anymore. There was only the trailer, and she’d find no solace there.

  ****

  “Alexandra, are you following this?” Mark asked impatiently as he stood beside the whiteboard, marker pen held poised as he was in the process of solving a complex equation.

  Alex sighed wearily and nodded. They were two weeks into her extensive tutoring schedule. Each day after school she studied in a dedicated effort to raise her grades across the board.

  She met with Mark three nights a week. Even though she was only into the second week, she’d already started to hear the vicious rumors of school gossip.

  “There goes Mr. Simmons’ pet,” girls would snipe as Alex walked past them. She was no longer able to hold her head high. Without the armor of her cheerleading uniform, she’d become a target for other students to belittle and poke fun at. What worried her was how much all the negative attention would intensify if people found out about her trailer roots. She’d been so careful to hide it, so meticulous in the creation of her alternate persona, but now she risked it all unravelling around her.

  “What do you and Mr. Simmons do after school?” Jeff had launched a surprise attack on Alex as she was walking down the corridor solo, abandoned by Claire, who was at a lunchtime cheerleading practice.

  “Or does he just do you?” Jeff had added scathingly, a comment that caused his surrounding jock friends to erupt into fits of laughter. Alex had turned bright red and scurried away from their taunts.

  “Alexandra!” Mark called her name a second time from the front of the classroom.

  “It’s negative four,” Alex said drolly.

  “I’m in the process of solving this for you,” Mark objected.

  “Well, you’re wasting your time. The answer is negative four,” Alex retorted, perfectly playing the part of the petulant teenager.

  She knew she was being difficult. She saw the exasperation in Mark’s eyes each time she played up and was cheeky towards him, but she couldn’t help it. Whenever she sat in a room with him, she felt deafened by the catcalls of the other students that had haunted her day, making her unable to concentrate.

  What bothered her more than anything was a recent story that had broken about a girl in a neighboring school who had been caught having an affair with her history tutor. The man in question was much older than Mark and married with children, but the community’s reaction to the scandal had been solely based on the abuse of trust enforced by the tutor, and the wicked seduction displayed by the girl. Somehow both parties had come out of the scenario as villains.

  The history tutor had been unceremoniously fired from his post with immediate effect, while the female student, unable to withstand the relentless bullying from her peers, was now being homeschooled. Her name and her reputation had been ruined. Alex didn’t want the same for herself.

  Nothing sexual had occurred between her and Mark. That didn’t mean that she hadn’t thought about it. A lot. In fact, she thought about it so much that it added to her unease and frustration. Alex feared that the more time she spent with him, the more she opened herself up to temptation and the possibility of overstepping the line that would forever define her as a harlot and rob Mark of his hard-earned career.

  Yet the fact that nothing had occurred between them did not stop the gossips or the bullies. Graffiti had appeared in various stalls declaring that Alex acted out explicit sex acts on Mark during their extra tutorials.

  When she first saw the comments, Alex tried to dismiss them, but eventually they soaked into her conscience, and she became fearful of what people thought of her. Even though she’d done nothing wrong, the rumors alone could be enough to seal her fate. The only people who knew the truth were her and Mark, but if the scandal continued to grow as it was, their testimonies, while truthful, wouldn’t be enough to convince people who were already so certain of what had transpired.

  “Lately, each time you’re in here you just play up.” Mark sighed, placing down the marker pen.

  Alex was silent, unable to know how to explain how she was feeling.

  “I know that you’re not like this with your other tutors,” Mark continued, sounding hurt. “They all rave about how well you’re doing.”

  Alex still didn’t respond.

  “Did you at least finish your application?” Mark asked, his voi
ce tentative.

  “Yes,” Alex answered this, feeling guilty over both her attitude and the fact that she’d completed the application without him. A part of her hadn’t wanted him involved in case some scandal ever did break, which would therefore void her entry amidst allegations of favoritism.

  Alex had chosen her least favorite teacher, Mrs. Clark, an elderly spinster who taught English, to help her compile her personal statement. The old lady had been more than happy to help, and her attitude towards Alex had thawed considerably now that she knew the full truth about the former cheerleader.

  That was another source of anguish for Alex. The faculty were now aware about everything. About her father dying, about her home life. They pitied her, and their pity helped keep their silence. They understood all too well how cruel and fragile the social world of high school could be. And so they kept Alexandra Heron a secret and helped her work her way towards a better future.

  It was only two days previously that Alex had actually worked up the confidence to post her application. With her hood up and Radiohead bleeding into her ears, she’d walked out of the trailer park, brown envelope nestled beneath her arm, and headed to the nearest mailbox. She’d stood frozen above the open mail slot, the letter hanging inches away from the dark depths. With a quick release of her hand so many things would be set in motion and the letter irretrievable. She’d stayed like that for a few minutes, wondering whether or not to send it.

  And then she thought of her father. Remembering his warm kind face and the familiar scent he always carried with him. He’d always smelt like home to her, and whenever he’d held her in his arms, she’d felt safe, she’d felt loved. She imagined what her father would say if he knew she was applying to Princeton. She knew he would be proud of her. He’d probably rush out and buy her a state-of-the-art laptop in both his excitement and certainty that she’d get in. But the most important thing was that he’d be pleased for her. So many times over the last four years Alex had felt the shadow over her life in the knowledge that her actions would only have disappointed her father. Now, for the first time she felt she was doing something positive, something worthy of him.

  Without further deliberation, she let go of the envelope and heard it crash among the other letters with a soft, satisfying thud.

  “Well, I’m glad you sent in your application.” Mark nodded, but his eyes belied his sadness.

  Alex’s attitude was hurting him; she could see that. But each moment they were alone she was locked in an internal battle not to run into his arms and place her lips upon his. As much as her body yearned to do it, her mind knew better. She was on the precipice of so much that just one passion-fuelled kiss could ruin it all.

  “I’m not sure I need any more math tutoring,” Alex declared, her voice soft but firm.

  “Alex, what…” Mark looked at her in confusion.

  “My grades are up. I’m already ahead of where I need to be in math. I’m just wasting your time being here,” Alex explained flatly.

  “Of course you’re not wasting my time,” Mark objected.

  “Yes, I am,” Alex told him curtly.

  Mark was silent as he looked at her in shocked surprise, not sure what to say.

  “Don’t tell me you haven’t heard the rumors,” Alex continued. “Or seen the ugly things that have been written about me in the stalls.”

  “But they’re just that, rumors.” Mark shrugged. “You just need to ignore them.”

  “They’re damaging rumors.”

  “But rumors nonetheless,” Mark pleaded with her. “We’ve done nothing wrong.”

  “Do you think the Princeton board of administration would see it that way?” Alex challenged, dropping the blow that she knew would cause Mark not to retaliate. As she anticipated, he sank back into his chair and gazed despondently at the floor.

  “I hadn’t thought of that,” he admitted sadly.

  “Well, I have.” Alex forced herself to sound firm, quickly wiping away a stray tear that had fallen.

  “I only want what’s best for you, you know that?” Mark looked up at her, his own eyes misted with tears.

  “If you want what’s best for me, you’ll treat me just like any other student. No more extra tutoring. No more dates.” Alex sounded defiant even though she didn’t feel it. She got up from her desk, grabbing her backpack.

  “I appreciate all your help,” she admitted, her steely demeanor breaking as her voice softened. “I owe you so much.”

  “You did it all yourself,” Mark noted. “I just wish you could see that and stop being ashamed of who you are.”

  “Goodbye, Mr. Simmons.” Alex was now at the door, one hand upon the handle. She pulled it open and propelled herself into the empty corridor before Mark could see the flood of tears that had now engulfed her.

  Part IV

  Four Months Later

  Alex wearily rubbed her eyes as the digital alarm clock next to her continued to scream that it was 6 a.m. The harsh monotonous chirp went through her head like daggers. Mustering all the energy she could, Alex leaned across and silenced the alarm. Above her Andy moaned groggily.

  “Time to get up,” Alex declared, her voice hoarse as she punched the bunk above her to wake her sleeping brother.

  Her mind still clouded by the fog of sleep, Alex pulled on some jeans and a hooded top before slinking into the kitchen area, where her mom was already making breakfast.

  “Morning, Mom.” Alex coughed.

  “Good morning, sweetheart,” Jackie greeted her with an uncharacteristic lightness in her voice. It was the sort of pleasant greeting that had been retired after Alex’s father had died. It surprised Alex to find her mother in such a good mood so early in the day.

  As Alex slumped down behind the counter where they ate, she registered a more shocking contribution to the morning routine; her mother was making pancakes. Alex actually couldn’t remember the last time she’d had pancakes for breakfast. It certainly hadn’t occurred since they had lived in the trailer.

  “Pancakes?” Alex mumbled in confusion.

  “They’re your favorite aren’t they?” Jackie smiled sweetly.

  “Uh huh.” Alex nodded, still too tired to focus her thoughts into any sort of cohesion. Her head ached from all the information she had been cramming into it recently. She had learned more over the past four months than she had over the previous four years, and she felt mentally exhausted.

  Historic dates, mathematical formulas, scientific theories and the work of Shakespeare all continually swirled around her head in an academic maelstrom. Alex found it hard to think straight lately, to see past the endless parade of papers she had to write, or tests she had to sit through. She felt like she never had a spare moment to herself. As soon as she got back to the trailer, she worked on assignments until her eyes ached and she had to go to sleep. Then she awoke, went to school, studied hard all day, engaging in extra tutoring classes over lunch and after school. It was relentless, and Alex had been too tired and too busy to even miss cheerleading.

  “Are you tired, honey?” Jackie asked, concerned.

  “I’m always tired.” Alex sighed. Normally her mother would be quick to quip about how Alex didn’t know what tired was, how she should try working two jobs and supporting a family on minimum wage, but for once, she seemed only concerned with her daughter’s well-being.

  “You’ve been working so hard.” Jackie nodded sympathetically.

  “Mom, what’s going on?” Alex asked, finally waking up and realizing how strange it was for her mother to pass up an opportunity to lament about how hard she herself worked.

  “What do you mean?” Jackie asked with faux innocence.

  “Well, for one you’re in a good mood. You’re never in a good mood!”

  “Can’t your mother wake up and be happy and not be interrogated about it?”

  “Most mothers, sure, but not you.” Alex raised an eyebrow at her mother. “So what’s going on? Did we win the lottery?”

 
“Whoa, did we win the lottery?” Andy asked excitedly as he joined them for breakfast, his blond hair still dishevelled from sleep.

  He registered the pancakes and his mother’s sunny disposition, and his eyes widened in anticipation.

  “No, we didn’t win the lottery.” Jackie smiled as she flipped a pancake.

  Andy sighed and settled in next to his sister. He glanced across at Alex before scrunching his face up in disapproval.

  “You’re wearing my sweater!” he declared, his tone accusatory.

  “Huh?” Alex glanced down at the hooded top she’d pulled on moments earlier and noticed that it did indeed belong to her brother.

  “Oh, sorry, I must have pulled it from the wrong drawer,” she admitted.

  “Well, take it off!” Andy demanded angrily. “I’m not having you wearing my stuff!”

  “Get lost! It’s nice and warm!” Alex objected. “And snuggly,” she added, teasing him by rubbing herself within the top. “Now it’s going to smell all nice and girly.”

  “Mom, tell Alex to go wear her own clothes!” Andy moaned across at his mother.

  “Can you two stop bickering?!” Jackie pleaded, plating up the now completed pancakes and handing them across to her children.

  “We might not have won the lottery,” Jackie continued, glancing between her two offspring. “But Alexandra has.”

  Alex looked up in shock, both at what her mother was saying and on hearing her call her by her full name.

  “Alex won the lottery?” Andy echoed, too shocked to put down the forkful of pancake he’d greedily snatched up.

  “In a way.” Jackie smiled wryly. She turned and opened a nearby drawer, producing a large, white envelope.

  “Apparently, when they send a big package, it means something good.” She handed the envelope across to Alex, and when Alex spotted the Princeton logo in the top left-hand corner, her heart almost stopped.

  “Did you get in?” Andy asked, intrigued.