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I guess that was the key to popularity; you needed to not want it, or not care that you had it.
The fact that he was beautiful with a body ripped to perfection didn’t hurt his cause, either.
It made me a little jealous if I was being honest.
I didn’t care about being popular. It was the fact that it was so easy for some people, while others, myself included in the latter group, suffered terribly.
He gave out this “I’m the best. You’re fucking with the best right here. You’re not going to find anyone better than me. Bad luck on you” vibe and walked around with a constant fuck-you expression on his face.
It was typical, banging-fists-on-chest, alpha male behavior—which I presumed had a lot to do with why every girl within a ten-mile radius seemed to gravitate toward him.
Thing was, whenever his eyes locked with mine, I never saw any of that fabricated machismo or his notorious glower.
It was hard to describe the look I received, because usually when our eyes locked, it was because Johnny had caught me staring at him, be it in the lunch hall or outside classrooms, and I always turned away quickly, mortified.
However, on the rare occasion that I managed to steel myself and meet his stare, I was rewarded with a curious head tilt and a small twitching smile. I wasn’t really sure what to make of any of it, or how to feel.
In a weird way, I kind of felt like one of those baby ducklings who imprint and attach themselves to the first person they see upon being born. I’d watched a movie about this when I was a kid.
Maybe that was what was happening here? Maybe I’d attached myself to Johnny because not only was he the first person I saw when I came to, but he also was the first person who’d shown me genuine kindness.
I wondered if that was an actual thing that could happen to humans after suffering moderate concussions, but then quickly dismissed the crazy notion.
Thoughts like that were not normal and of absolutely no benefit.
Also, I wasn’t attached to him.
I simply enjoyed admiring him. From a safe distance. When he wasn’t looking.
Yeah, that wasn’t unhealthy at all.
“Do you want to come over after school today?” Claire asked me during big break on Wednesday.
We were sitting at the end of one of the ginormous tables in the luxurious lunch hall that I was still trying to come to terms with.
At BCS, we had a little canteen where people took turns sitting at the small round tables. Here at Tommen, it was a banquet hall with twenty-five-foot tables, hot meals on offer, and enough room to seat the entire school.
The lunch hall was bursting to the seams with other students shouting and talking so loudly that I had to lean across the table to reply. “To your house?”
Claire nodded. “We can hang out and watch a few films or something?”
“Aren’t you going into town with Lizzie to see Pierce?” I asked.
At least that’s what I thought they were doing after school today. That’s all Lizzie had been talking about all morning.
Apparently, she was seeing some lad from fifth year named Pierce, and they’d been on and off together for months. From what I had gathered, they were currently back on.
To be fair, Lizzie had invited me to come with them after school, but I’d declined because town was the last place I ever wanted to be.
My old school was based slap-bang in the middle of town, and I tended to avoid all surrounding areas like the plague. There were too many unwelcome faces that hung around there.
“Nah, Lizzie’s in a mood,” Claire explained, stabbing her pot of yogurt with her spoon. “So, I’m guessing they had another fight today.”
That explained Lizzie’s noticeable absence at lunch. She was a hard one to figure out. She held a lot back and I never truly knew what she was thinking or feeling, unlike Claire, who was an open book.
I guess that’s why I had always been closer to Claire growing up.
I loved Lizzie, of course, and considered her a good friend, but if I was to have a best friend, then it would be Claire.
