face. “Don’t let it go to your gigantic head.”
“Too late.” He waved and drove away.
At least our relationship felt familiar and easy again. Which was good, since I had a feeling going back to my old school was going to be way harder than I had anticipated.
My best friend Sophie Sakamoto wasn’t hard to spot in her black-and-white-striped knee-high stockings, black micro-mini skirt, and fluorescent lime-green tank top. She lounged on the front steps of the school with her boyfriend and some of the guys from their band. Her boyfriend Doug was in grade twelve and they’d been dating for almost two years. They came down to Vancouver almost every weekend to hang out with me when I lived there, thankfully. The loneliness would have been unbearable if they hadn’t. Doug had shaved his dark faux-hawk into a buzz cut since I last saw him. It suited the dark-rimmed punk glasses he wore. Most people got the wrong impression about Doug because he was a musician who wore leather and had tattoos up his neck—well, maybe it wasn’t entirely the wrong impression.
“Hey, guys,” I said, loud enough for them to hear me, but quietly enough to not make a huge scene. At least, that was the goal. I should have known Sophie wouldn’t let my re-initiation to the school slide without a bit of a scene.
She shot up and squealed as she lunged over to hug me. “Oh my God. Welcome back. You are not allowed to leave me ever again. The boredom was torture.” She turned to the boys. “No offence.”
They all laughed, knowing full well it was intended to be an insult. She leaned back to check out my outfit. Normally, she was the one up on fashion, and I couldn’t have cared less. The suede boots were one of the expensive items my mom had bought for me while I was living with her.
“Damn, Derian, you look stylish.” She tickled my waist. “All we need now is to get you a boyfriend.”
I glared at her and whispered, “I’m happily single. Thanks. You want to keep your voice down a little? Please.”
“Why are you turning all red?” she teased. She was going to take it as far as she could, just to amuse herself. And maybe also to get back at me for leaving her alone for a whole year. “Hey, Doug,” Sophie called over to him. “You think Derian looks hot with her new look?”
Doug laughed. “Is that a trap?”
“Nope.”
To my horror, Doug and a couple of other guys on the steps all checked me out. Doug pushed his glasses up, studied my suede boots, then moved his gaze up my legs, over my skirt, paused for a second at my pink button-up sweater, and finished at my face. “Yup,” he said.
“Smokin’,” another guy added.
“See,” Sophie encouraged.
I turned sideways and folded my arms across my chest. “You can stop humiliating me. I’m sorry I left you for a year. It’s not like I wanted to.”
Her expression changed into sympathy before she hugged me again. “I understand why you didn’t come back last year. I’m not mad at you, and I wasn’t kidding. You look beautiful. But you’ve always been beautiful—even in worn yoga pants and muddy hiking boots.”
“Thank you.” I sighed and tugged down the hem of my skirt. It wasn’t about the clothes. The look was only supposed to be symbolic of a fresh new start. I thought a new image would help me move on and leave the pain of losing my dad in the past. I hadn’t done it to please my mom, or get attention, or pretend to be someone I wasn’t, but if it was going to seem like that, I would prefer for everyone to treat me like the old Derian and pretend like nothing had changed. The only problem was, everything had changed. And it had nothing to do with how I dressed.
Sophie slapped my hand to make me stop fidgeting. Then she gasped, dug her fingers into my arms, and spun me around. A guy I’d never seen before closed the driver’s door of a black Mercedes coupe. He ran his left hand through his caramel-coloured hair as he turned to look at the school. Then he lifted the tan leather strap of his bag over his head, adjusted it across his chest, and glanced at all the students milling around on the grass and the front steps. “Holy shit. Who is that?” Sophie whispered.
I didn’t respond. I just watched him. He walked smoothly and confidently for a few steps, then looked down at the ground for a step—as if what he was doing was the last thing he wanted to be doing. His grey trousers, light blue-grey shirt, and expensive-looking black dress shoes were not the typical look for our high school. His skin was tanned like he’d just gotten back from the south of France or something, and his shiny silver watch must have cost a fortune. When he got close enough that I could tell he was over six-feet tall, and his eyes were the most intoxicating shade of blue, he smiled. It was a shy smile. His chin was down, but he glanced up briefly before flashing his insanely white and perfectly straight teeth at Sophie.
She and I both stared at him as he continued towards the front door of the school and disappeared inside. “He’s beautiful.” Sophie sighed.
“And he smiled at you,” I whispered, as I checked to see if Doug was listening. He wasn’t paying attention.
“He didn’t smile at me, you geek.” Sophie smacked my arm with the back of her hand. “He smiled at you.”
“No, he didn’t.”
“Ya, he did. I’ll get the 411 on him for you.” She jiggled around excitedly.
“What? No. I don’t want you to do that.”
“Hi Derian,” a male voice interrupted us before I had a chance to axe her scheme.
I jumped a little because I hadn’t even noticed Steve Rawlings walk up. He was a friend who sat on student council with me the year before I left. He looked different. He’d grown about six inches and got his braces off. His hair was cut really short—probably because it was the first day of school. He was kind of a keener like that. He actually looked cute.
“Hi Steve.”
“Welcome back, Deri. Are you coming to peer mentoring?”
“Oh, I didn’t sign up to be a mentor.”
“I know, but I remembered you said you wanted to be a mentor in junior year. So, when I heard you were coming back, I signed you up. Hope that’s okay. Mr. Orton said he was going to send you an email. Sorry. He must have forgotten. I would have told you, but I don’t have your email or phone number. It’s cool if you have other things you need to do.”
“I did, I mean, I do want to be a mentor. Yeah, thanks.”
Sophie grabbed my elbow to hold me back. “She’ll be right with you,” she said to Steve, then whispered in my ear, “I’ll fill you in on the new guy by lunch.”
“What? No. Don’t embarrass me,” I hissed back.
She giggled in a maniacal way, held up two fingers in a peace sign, and moved to lean against Doug. Doug draped his arm over her shoulders and kissed her neck. There wasn’t any way to stop her once her mind was set on something, so I didn’t bother to protest more before I walked away.
