Julia Jones - The Teenage Years Read online

Page 3


  I don’t know who was more surprised that we had been on the same bus, Blake or me. But all I could do was stare heart-broken back at him as the bus pulled away and disappeared down the street.

  Something is not right…

  As I walked through the open front door of our house, I was hit with the sound of a strange voice coming from the top floor. This was followed by uncharacteristic fits of laughter from my mother. I definitely wanted to avoid having to talk to Mom and some stranger, so I attempted to sneak quietly up the stairs to the solitude and safety of my bedroom. But as I got to the top stair, I found it was actually my room that the voices were coming from.

  Staring at the scene in front of me, I looked from my mom to the stranger. He was hammering away at my window frame while she sat comfortably on my bed deep in conversation, all the while laughing easily at some joke that they had obviously been sharing.

  I immediately noticed something different about my mom. The relaxed and cheerful expression on her face was almost foreign to me; it had been so long since I had seen her looking that way. Reluctant to announce my presence, I hesitated, unsure of whether I should interrupt. But at the same time I was overcome with a seething annoyance at the invasion of my privacy. This was my room and how dare they invade my space! I just wanted to yell, “Get Out!!”

  But forcing the words to remain unspoken, I stood there transfixed at the scene in front of me.

  It was the man who noticed me first and for some reason, I took an instant dislike to him. This was not a common occurrence as I was usually able to get along with most people and had decided long ago, never to judge a book by its cover. In this instance though, I wasn’t sure whether to call it intuition or gut instinct. Perhaps they’re the same thing, but whatever it was, I felt uneasy.

  Looking up in surprise at my sudden appearance in the doorway, Mom, who was smiling happily and as if absolutely nothing at all was amiss, said with a grin, “Julia! Come and meet Barry! He’s been here for the last couple of hours doing all the odd jobs around the place that desperately needed to be done. And you’ll be so happy to know that your window has finally been repaired. You’ll no longer have to prop it up with a book to keep it open!”

  Looking at me expectantly, I could see her own smile fade somewhat when she realized the expression on my face did not display the gratification she had been anticipating.

  Frowning, she opened her mouth to speak once more, but in order to avoid a confrontation, I quickly mumbled an insincere thanks, then turned around and headed back down the stairs to the kitchen.

  I could clearly hear her words behind me. “I’m so sorry, Barry! She’s normally not so rude. I think she’s still coming to terms with having to move.”

  And it was his reply that irked me the most, “Oh, teenagers, Marian! I know how much trouble they can be!”

  Incredulously, I shook my head. How dare they talk about me behind my back, and as I heard them laughing at my expense, I could feel my anger bubbling to the surface.

  My father had left just that morning and would be away for the entire week. It appeared that his new job required him to travel regularly but right then, I wished that he was at home.

  Seeing my mother sitting up there, completely comfortable and on a first name basis with some stranger who she had only just met, didn’t seem right, and after slamming closed the fridge door in disgust at the sight of nothing to eat, I slumped down on the living room sofa.

  Miserable! That was the only word I could find to describe how I felt. And I thought once more of the friends I had left behind in the country, the place I had come to call home. I knew I should give my best friend, Cassie, a call. We had promised to phone each other regularly, but my last conversation with her had left me sadder than ever.

  She’d been so excited to go back to school. She was in love with a really cute boy in our grade and had been desperate to see him again. I’d pretended to join in her enthusiasm and had insisted that she keep me informed of any updates. But that really was the last thing I wanted to hear about. Being aware of how happy everyone else was just seemed to add to my misery.

  Punching my fist into the cushion I’d been gripping tightly in my lap, I hurled it angrily at the coffee table in front of me then watched as it knocked one of my mother’s favorite ornaments onto the floor, only to break in two.

  “That’s all I need,” I thought to myself, sighing with self-pity, as I stood to pick up the remnants and tried to piece them together.

  “I know! I’ll ask dad to glue it.” My dad was the master repair person when it came to gluing broken toys and objects around the house, but the solution was quickly whisked away when I remembered that he would not be coming home that evening.

  And as if to add further to my misery, I watched my mother escort Barry to the front door, thanking him profusely for the work he had done. As they exchanged goodbyes, I caught him quickly glance in my direction.

  “Did I imagine that?” I thought with disgust, “or did he actually just wink at me?” Instantly, the uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach returned, as I realized how creepy that was.

  Then with an abrupt jolt, I was hit with the premonition that something very dark and foreboding lay ahead.

  Embarrassment…

  Reluctantly, I forced myself to face another day at school. My brother had beaten me to the bathroom that morning and in typical Matt fashion, he’d left the floor flooded with water and his wet towel draped over the edge of the tub. The room reeked of his aftershave and I turned on the exhaust fan in the hope of clearing not only the excess steam away, but the disgraceful smell of the cologne he wore each day.

  “The girls love it!” he’d said with a grin when I had commented on the scent that was later wafting around the breakfast table.

  I watched in fascination as he devoured his second overfull bowl of cereal; as usual, the milk spilling onto the table top each time he dipped his spoon into the depths of the concoction in front of him.

  “Gross!” I’d thought to myself, in disgust, shaking my head in disbelief that what he was saying could actually be true and at the same time wondering how he could possibly eat so much.

  Deep down though and while I would never confess this, I secretly felt that he was pretty cool. My friends were always going on about how good looking he was and I would roll my eyes, pretending otherwise, all the while, feeling proud that he was my brother. I’d watch him and his group of friends from afar, while I sat with my own friends in our usual lunch spot at our old school.

  Sometimes, I would have to go and talk to him and pass on a message from Mom or one of the teachers and I remembered the embarrassment I’d feel as I had to cross the grassy area in full view of all the other seniors.

  His friends would always make comments and direct them my way.

  “Hi, Julia!”

  “How’s it going, Julia?”

  “I like your hair today, Julia!”

  Matt would simply laugh and I could feel my face flush the way it always did when the focus of all those boys was directed towards me. I hated the way my embarrassment showed, but was completely helpless to prevent it.

  I think it was probably because they were all older than me and actually quite a cool group. Some of them were really good looking as well and this just made the whole scenario that much more intense.

  Although I continued to feel embarrassed, sometimes I’d make an excuse to visit Matt during breaks, knowing that I secretly enjoyed the attention I was receiving.

  I remembered one time after cooking class, I’d taken some warm, freshly baked cupcakes over to his group so that he could share them with his friends. They all surrounded me and within seconds, the full platter I was holding had been emptied. The pride I had felt at their excited reaction, was one I still remember, and even Matt had been impressed, proud that it was actually his sister who had provided the unexpected treat.

  After that episode, I seemed to constantly be attracting the attention of one particular member of his group.

  “Any more cupcakes, Julia?” he’d ask with a cheeky grin.

  “When are you cooking more cupcakes, Julia?”

  The comments continued to flow and I thrived on the obvious interest that was coming from such a cool senior student. He even started calling me cupcake as a nickname and I would laugh with embarrassment, all the while, discreetly adoring all the fuss.

  “I think he likes you,” my friend, Cassie had remarked one afternoon and even though I’d brushed it off, I had hoped that it might actually be true.

  Visions of those memories floated through my mind as I sat alone at the back of the bus heading to school. I’d tried to convince myself to stop focusing on what I’d left behind and to simply concentrate on the present moment. This was my life now and I would just have to accept it. I’d come to that realization the night before, while I lay in bed staring out the window deep in thought. And as those thoughts crossed my mind once more, I forced myself to focus on the new life I had just so recently embarked upon.

  When the bus pulled to a stop at the front gate, I sighed with relief at the sight of some friendly faces who had also just arrived. With a determined attitude, I approached the group of girls who I now called my friends and we made our way to our first class of the day.

  The morning passed by smoothly. That was until it was time for Math, where to my consternation, I found that Blake and Sara were also in my class and once again seated in the back row. The biggest challenge however, was the fact that by the time I’d found my way to the classroom, only one seat remained and that happened to be right in front of Sara.

  “At least it’s not beside her,” I thought to myself, as I entered the room and sat down, all the while keeping my head bowed so I could
avoid making eye contact with either of them.

  It was when I looked towards the teacher that I was faced with another completely unexpected sight. Mr. Jamison, who apparently was the head of the Math department, was standing at the front of the class but he was not alone. By his side, stood a young guy dressed in chinos and a fairly tight fitting collared sports shirt that accentuated the fit looking body hidden underneath. He couldn’t have been more than about eighteen or nineteen years of age. Every girl in the class was totally focused on him. Even the boys eyed him with interest. He looked pretty cool and it was obvious they were wondering who he was, as were the girls. But it was the girls who displayed the most dramatic reaction and I could feel their eyes riveted to the front.

  He was extremely good looking and the girls around me began whispering and giggling to each other. As we listened intently, Mr. Jamison explained that this person, who was named Mr. Ryland and was obviously only a few years older than us, would be our Math teacher for the remainder of the semester. The original teacher had apparently taken leave due to an illness and Mr. Ryland had been assigned to replace him.

  Immediately the class was abuzz with excited chatter, mainly from the girls, while the boys looked on with continuing interest.

  “How old are you?” giggled one girl who sat at the front. “You don’t look old enough to be a teacher!”

  We all listened intently to his response. “I’m actually twenty-two,” he explained. “I graduated from university six months ago and I’ve been a substitute teacher since then. But I’m very happy to now be a permanent teacher here.”

  “We’re very happy too!” laughed a girl named Jackie.

  Instantly the class cracked up and loud laughter filled the room. It was like an open invitation and it seemed that suddenly everyone was calling out their own opinions and comments.

  “Do we call you sir or Mr. Ryland?” yelled Jackie from her spot near the back. She’d obviously been encouraged by the response from the rest of the class and gave the impression that she was ready to wreak havoc with the good looking, young teacher, who stood looking very uncomfortable at the front of the room.

  I hadn’t actually met Jackie before but I’d noticed her earlier in the day and that was probably because she appeared to be wearing the shortest skirt of anyone in the entire school.

  Just as she opened her mouth to call out once more, Mr. Jamison’s booming voice silenced the uproar and brought everyone to attention. “This noise level is totally unacceptable and if anyone chooses to continue with this sort of behavior, you’ll be given after-school detention!”

  The threat of detention was all that was needed to silence the group but the minute that he departed the room, the excited chatter, although definitely more subdued, quickly resumed.

  While our new teacher managed to regain some semblance of order, the class certainly wasn’t as quiet or as focused as they’d been when Mr. Jamison had been amongst us and it took Mr. Ryland quite some time to encourage everyone to actually pay attention to the work on the board.

  I could see that most of the girls were having a hard time concentrating, and I had to admit, I was one of them. While I did manage to complete some work, I couldn’t help but continually glance in the direction of the handsome young man in front of me. I was having trouble accepting him as our teacher! Maybe things were looking up after all. I mean if I had to go to Math class, having a teacher that looked like him, certainly made it so much more enjoyable!

  Obviously though, I hadn’t been discreet enough. With a jerk, I felt my chair being shoved roughly forward and it made a loud scraping sound on the worn floorboards. As soon as I turned around to see what had caused it, I instantly regretted my actions.

  With an intense and unfriendly stare, Sara smirked, “Can’t keep your eyes off him, Julia?”

  The laughter from everyone within earshot just added to my humiliation and I felt my face flush, the familiar burning sensation creeping rapidly over my skin.

  Mr. Ryland looked to the back of the room. “What’s going on up there?” he queried.

  “Oh nothing, sir,” Sara replied in that sweet voice of hers that I remembered all too well. “It’s just that Julia seems to be having a hard time concentrating today!”

  The laughter that erupted rang in my ears and I sat there appalled.

  “This can’t be happening! It just can’t!” the thoughts raced through my mind as I put my head down trying to avoid any more attention.

  “You guys get on with your work!” Mr. Ryland’s voice sounded over the noise. But then thankfully, the bell rang to signal the end of the lesson.

  I quickly stood and made my way to the door, eager to escape, but I was stopped short by a strange sensation. It was that feeling one gets, knowing that someone else is staring. Sharply, I looked back, only to realize that Blake’s eyes were focused intently on my own, almost as though he were seeing into the depths of my soul.

  I held his gaze for just a moment. But then, recognizing that it was pitiful sympathy in his eyes and nothing more, I hurried out the door. His glance had only succeeded in humiliating me further and I fought my way through the throng of students to the safety of the lunch area, where I could hide amongst my friends and feel invisible.

  Reaching the group, I sat down and tried to put the humiliation of the Math class and Blake’s sympathetic stare out of my mind. As I listened in on the conversation and attempted to show an interest in what was being said, we were abruptly interrupted by the loudest and most outgoing member of the group, a girl named Lisa.

  “Who is that?” she asked excitedly, in a voice that sounded like a freight train and could probably be heard right across that entire area of the school.

  It seemed that everyone, including the groups of students who were sitting a distance away, abruptly turned in the direction she was pointing. To my horror, I could see that Mr. Ryland was on lunch break supervision duty and was obviously right in her line of vision. He was the one she had noticed and if others around us had not previously known he existed, they certainly did then.

  “He’s the new Math teacher.” I mumbled quietly, trying to keep my voice down and avoid the stares that I could feel coming from almost every direction.

  “OMG!” was Lisa’s reply. “He’s hot!!!!”

  “I know,” I said back to her. “That’s the problem!”

  Dad, where are you?

  Rolling over in bed once more, I stared out the window. There was no moon but I could just make out the dull shine of one lone star in the far away night sky.

  “That star resembles me,” I thought. One lonely star desperately trying to find her place, but feeling completely isolated. Alone in a universe that is busily humming along each day with no thought for the lost soul who has no one to turn to and nowhere to go.

  Tossing and turning once more, I recalled the day’s events. The humiliation I had felt during Math filled me again with the burning shame that was becoming all too familiar. I simply could not believe that my past history and experiences with Sara were being repeated. Memories of the tortured nights where I had laid in the same bed and stared out the same window, haunted by the same mean girl at school who was making my life miserable; the recollection was way too intense to be forgotten.