Claire
There was a part of me that didn't want Andy to enter my room. It was my own private oasis, and I felt that his presence could threaten that, but I knew it was the only place in the whole house where we'd be able to get the work done on our assignment in peace.
Growing up, Andy and I spent endless hours in my room, building pillow forts and watching episodes of Bluey, but that all changed once he hit high school. Invitations to my room were met with a scowl of displeasure or just ignored completely. I didn't know what to expect when I suggested going up to my room, but Andy followed me upstairs without a word.
"There's a lot less pink than I remember." He remarked as I swung open the door to reveal my navy blue painted walls and queen-sized bed, covered with a mauve bedspread. The giant dollhouse I'd once kept in the corner had long been replaced by a desk, which I kept neatly organised. My childhood posters on the walls were gone too and in their place were paintings my Aunty Shay designed especially for me.
"I outgrew my pink phase when I was 12," I tell him dryly, a fact that he would have known if he hadn't cut me out of his life completely.
I close the door behind us as we enter and watching in horror when he plops himself down on my bed, leaving me no choice but to take the seat at my desk because there's no way I'm getting too close to him, as it is, I'm more than likely going to have to burn the bedspread after he leaves.
"So why don't you drive?" He asks me as if the question had been burning away at him ever since this afternoon. It's a question that I hate, one that I'm faced with so often, and if I were to answer him honestly, I'd be exposing my true insecurity, leaving myself open to ridicule. My mind searches for a defence, a way to disarm him.
"Why don't you have a phone?" I fire back at him and watch him become uneasy under my glare. His focus shifts to the carpet the instant the question comes out, and I don't know why but I suddenly feel guilty for intruding on his privacy.
"Forget I asked." He mumbles, opening his binder and pulling out the assignment sheet. When he lifts the sheet up, I'm surprised when I spot the bullet points he jotted down.
"You started working on the assignment already?" I ask, trying to catch a glimpse of his notes.
"Ah, yeah, during lunch." He admits, his cheeks turning red, but there's really nothing to be ashamed of; if anything, I'm impressed he put the extra effort in.
"That's cool, so we can use that as our starting point," I say, leaning forward to grab the piece of paper from his hand, but he pulls it away swiftly, like it's some secret he's trying to hide. "Or not, I guess."
He's so weird, trust me, to get stuck with the strange boy as a partner. I never had this trouble when I worked with Jupiter; we shared all our notes.
"Why should I just show you my work when you've done nothing yourself?" He asks, his shame from earlier long gone now, making way for the smug, arrogant Andy I know all too well.
"Because we're partners, this affects my grade just as much as yours, Andrew." I point out, getting upset that he's wasting our precious time.
"Partners?" He laughs heartily as if it's the funniest thing he's ever heard. "You won't even trust me enough to tell me why you don't drive, yet you want me to trust you and give you my notes?"
"That's not fair, Andy, you don't trust me either with why you don't have a phone." I can feel the anger rising inside of me. He's playing me just to get the information he wants out of me.
"Yeah, but you want this more." He says, waving the paper around and smiling the most wicked smile I've ever seen. He has me over a barrel, and he knows it. "Come on, princess, spill, and I'll give you my notes."
"I have no one who will teach me." I lie, hoping he buys it, but he shakes his head, and I know I'm not off the hook.
"Bullshit, you have your mum and dad."
"My Mum was in a car accident before I was born, and she gets anxiety about me driving," I explain. That part isn't a lie, and he knows it. My Mum rarely drives anywhere unless she has to; she once told me she's afraid of an accident changing her whole life. "
"And Dad doesn't have the patience to teach." That part is the lie. Dad started to teach me, but I just couldn't do it.
"Claire Bridget Lions, tell me the truth," Andy says my full name in a low, stern tone, much like my parents do whenever I am in trouble.
"I'm scared, alright? That's why I haven't done anything about it. Happy now?" I huff, feeling so frustrated that he pulled it out of me just for his own sick pleasure.
I expected him to laugh and mock me, but he didn't; instead, he got up from the bed and handed me his notes. I read through them fast, thinking at any moment he would tear the piece of paper out of my hands and I'd have to keep confessing my fears to him in order to get him to work cooperatively with me but he didn't and to my complete surprise he never brought up my fear of driving for the rest of the night.
We actually worked really well together and managed to get a huge chunk of the assignment done, which is something Jupiter and I have never been able to do on the first night, stopping only to eat dinner and then getting back into it.
My opinion of Andy, academically, had shifted; he's intelligent, and he had a passion for chemistry, which I could see come out when he was focused. I don't understand how someone so smart is repeating, though, and so many times I had to stop myself from asking him this because I knew I'd never get a straight answer. Andy was still a jerk, and it would take a lot more than seeing his intelligent side to change that opinion.
"I'll see you tomorrow then," I said to him when he was going, holding the front door open for him to leave, but he still stood in the doorway.
"I'll drive you tomorrow." He tells me it's not an offer, it's an order and one I don't care for.
"What? Why?" Does he think we're friends now because I tolerated him for one night? The boy is crazy.
"I drive past your house to get to Brixton, if I pick you up, then it saves you time in the long run." He points out, and I hate that he makes a valid point. The morning bus takes an hour to get to Brixton because it picks up kids going to multiple schools. If I get a lift with him, then it will only take 20 minutes to get there.
"Fine, you can drive me." I cave in, and I see the small smile he tries to hide. "But Heath comes too, and I'm not listening to that noise you claim is music."
"I'm sorry, but when did I say we were open to negotiations? I'm the one doing you the favour here, cupcake." He sniggers at me.
"Cupcake?" Did he just give me a cute nickname? Is it bad that I like it? His eyes go wide, like a deer caught in headlights.
"I meant princess." He mumbles, and all the confidence from seconds ago is drained away.
"Whatever, I'll see you tomorrow." I push him out the door and slam it shut.
I race back upstairs and throw myself down on my bed. My heart is pounding, and for some reason, I have this weird feeling of butterflies fluttering in my tummy that I can't make sense of. I was tempted to text Jupiter and tell her everything about my night with Andy, but something in me felt like I also wanted to keep it to myself.