Clara's Undoing

Clara's Undoing - Chapter Two: Power Play

“He was so dreamy, Sid.” I gushed over at my bagel. “I can’t believe last night was real.”

“You’re glad I made you come, aren’t you?” She asked me cheekily.

I nodded as I took a bite of my breakfast, languidly taking up my time with the knowledge that First Break would end in fifteen minutes.

“So glad. Ecstatic. Grateful. And in return, I’ll get you the Chanel glasses you’ve been ogling at last week at the mall.” I prattled.

“Perfect compensation!” She cheered. “Has he called you yet?”

“He hasn’t.” I replied. “But I did see him in the corridors looking at me this morning.”

“Like looking-at-you looking at you or just looking at you?” She asked.

I reminisced about how I caught James looking at me from his chair earlier this morning. “Looking at me like he wanted to say something.”

“Oooh.” Sidney gushed before sitting up straight. “Like how he’s looking at you now?”

My eyebrows met, unsure of what my friend was referring to. I followed her eye trail to the jocks’ table and found James looking at me. He saw me then stood up, sauntering towards our table at the end of the dining hall.

“Hey, Clara.” James greeted, with a certain amount of anxiety in his voice. I’ve never seen him so tense before. “Mind if I join you?”

I put my bagel down and dusted the crumbs off my hands together as he sat down beside me. “Not at all. What’s up, James?”

He leant in to me, whispering, trying to not be heard by Sidney. “I was wondering if you’d like to have coffee later.”

“I’d love to.” I responded without a doubt. “But who am I having it with?”

He chuckled nervously. “With me of course. Sorry, I can’t believe how fidgety I am today.”

“I’m messing with you.” I told him, my heart pounding a mile a minute.

“Right.” He replied. “What’s your last class?”

I bit my lip. “Physics with Mr. Parrish.”

“I’ll wait for you by the door then.”

I refrained the smile from entering my lips. “Okay.”

“Okay then.” He replied as he stood up from our table and acknowledged Sidney’s presence. “Sidney, always a pleasure.”

“All mine, Evans.” She replied with a hint of amusement on her lips. “All mine.”

It took all of our willpower not to scream and giggle like little girls when James left our table.

“You go, girl.” Sidney commented as soon as James was out of earshot. “That was some serious power play.”

“I was so nervous the entire time!” I shrieked. “What do you think I should wear later? Should I change into something else or do I just keep my uniform?”

“Uniform.” Sidney replied. “We don’t want him thinking you’re trying too hard. Just act normal.”

“Uh, if you mean normal by Clara standards then that’s fidgeting, socially awkward, ineloquent. I barely hung on earlier!”

Sidney laughed. “You’ll do fine. Just go with the flow. Be yourself. I’m sure he’ll find you amusing if not appealing.”

I rolled my eyes at her. “Yeah, thanks for your words of encouragement, Sid.”

The bell rang, signaling that our thirty-minute First break was over. I had Economics with Mr. Ted Pabst and then Music and Arts with Ms. Chenoweth who was trying to get all of her students to join the musical of Spring Awakening—which I think was a little too raunchy for a bunch of high school kids but hell, it wasn’t like they were all virtuous either.

The day couldn’t have gone any slower. I was looking forward to my coffee date with James but I couldn’t deny the fact that my heart was pounding in my chest a hundred miles an hour. What if I screw it up? And Mr. Parrish’s mumbling about the fundamentals of kinematics was an even longer drag. It was like the two-hour class turned into an entire day which he ended by distributing waivers for our camping s***h museum trip next week which we had yet to have our parents sign.

“Guys, let’s not forget about these waivers please?” Mr. Parrish said to the throng of students disappearing from his classroom. “Not unless you want to go to Philly.”

I was too focused on the time and at the door that I didn’t realize I didn’t get a waiver. So I had to come up to Mr. Parrish’s table.

“Mr. Parrish, I didn’t get a waiver.” I told him as soon as I got to his desk.

He looked at me from under his long lashes. “Oh… I’ve passed them all out. Let me check if I’ve got extra lying around.”

“That’s fine.” I said, glancing at the door to see if James was already there. “One of the hazards of sitting at the end corner.”

“Waiting for someone?” Mr. Parrish inquired, clearly noticing my obvious back-and-forth glancing at the doorway.

I shook my head. “No.”

He continued ruffling in his drawers for a while and I had the chance to notice how thick and magnificent his hair was. They were black and shiny and a little curly on the ends but he had it styled in a neat look. You could tell it was well-groomed.

“I know it’s in here somewhere.” He mumbled to himself. “Have you had a nice evening after the dance?”

I nibbled on my lip a little before answering him. “I did. Slept my way through.”

He chuckled. “So did I. Oh! Here you go. There’s only two left so you still get a chance to lose that one.”

I laughed and took the paper he was handing out to me. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Something from the doorway caught his attention and the smile immediately left his lips before asking, “Is that yours?”

I glanced behind me to see what he was referring to and found James leaning against the door frame. “I think so. Thanks Mr. Parrish.”

I went for the door, slowly approaching James with a fast-beating heart and I could see how eager he was to meet me as well.

“See you later, Mr. P!” James beckoned Mr. Parrish without his eyes leaving my face and we were out of the door.

“So did you have a nice day?” James asked as we walked through the corridor.

I nodded and smiled softly. “I did, yeah. Boring as usual, but perhaps it’s better than Cynthia Sorkovsky’s day.”

“You heard about that?” He replied. “I heard she got bludgeoned with a broken lacrosse stick.”

I chuckled. “Aren’t you a little too gossipy for a football quarterback?”

He shrugged. “It’s on rare occasions that I’m not the subject of such colloquy so I try to enjoy it whenever I can.”

“That’s true.” I agreed. “Are they true though?”

“Which one?”

“All of them.”

“The one where I got Tina Hidgkins pregnant twice in the same year?”

I peeked at him from under my lashes without offering a response.

“Or the one where I made her do ridiculous flips in bed?”

Again, I didn’t say a word.

He laughed as we took a turn at the end of the corridor. “Aside from those stories being physically impossible, Tina and I were never together.”

I gasped in disbelief. “Never? I thought you guys dated?”

“We did go on a couple of dates but it never went past that.” He replied. “She was too… unrealistic for me.”

“Unrealistic how?”

“In a sense that everything around her should be perfect.” He said. “It was kind of exhausting although tolerable. But when you’re with someone, I don’t think you should settle for just tolerating. It would be unfair to her.”

Wow. I can’t believe how mature James was. Considering he was a jock and the football superstar for that matter, he was just simply oozing with knowledge.

“And I believe I’m the kind of guy who revels in flaws. Flaws are what makes us real. Not everything has to be perfect, so long as it works.”

Right then and there, as I looked into his deep blue eyes, I knew that I was right in loving him.

* * *

“Honey, are you bringing friends to the party?”

I peeled my eyes away from my perspective drawing splashed across my sketch book, slightly tired of the gray carpet it had been sitting upon, and re-situated my glasses.

“You know, we put a study table in here for a reason, Clara.” Mom insinuated. “It’s not just for decor. You’re gonna ruin your back.”

I flashed her a sweet smile. “I like working on the floor, it gives me more space to move around.”

She shook her head a little as she reciprocated my smile. “Well then are you?”

“Am I what?” I asked, a little confused.

She rolled her pretty blue eyes before repeating herself. “Gonna bring guests to the party next weekend?”

“Oh.” I muttered, putting down my pencil and ruler. “I’m not sure, I haven’t asked anyone yet.”

“Ask them now, I’m doing a final head count.” She ordered as she disappeared from my door frame. “And use your study table!”

Me: Parent’s anniversary party on the 26th. Mom needs head count. I’m putting you in.

Sid: Why the hell did you even text me then?

Me: Just letting you know haha

Sid: I know, the invitation came this morning. Your mom specifically had my name written in upper case. Are you going to invite James?

Me: I dunno. Should I?

Sid: Definitely! So he could meet your folks.

Me: Oh God I didn’t even think of that!

I sat up straight and leant against the foot of my bed, turning my gaze to the ceiling. The thoughts of whether or not I should invite James to my parents’ anniversary party was starting to produce a pros-cons table in my mind. And then there was the how. If I ever did invite him, how would I do it? How would I say it?

Maybe it was better if I asked him in person. I was sure my mom had already sent out an invitation to his parents since they knew each other in the big corporate world and they all used to go to Bridgeborn themselves but I doubt James intended on coming. For him, it was probably just another OPP—Old People’s Party—which most of us never attend on our free will. Young adults’ attendance was usually blackmailed-induced or bribed-induced by parents. For them, it was the perfect time to mingle with future business mentors and associates hence, the unwillingness to attend on our part.

I started collecting my things from the carpet, deeming it impossible to continue working after the dilemma that had just arisen, and just went to get ready for bed instead.

Today’s events played in my mind as I was taking a hot bath. James was obviously easy to talk to. He had a boy-next-door vibe on him as he displayed the sense-of-humor I never knew he had in him. I guess I was too focused on the physical qualities of him before to notice how easy-to-be-with he was.

I smiled to myself countless times in the bath, as more of today’s memories came rushing back to me. James had made me watch him practice after coffee. His foot was almost healed up completely by now but Coach Fredmann still went easy on him and let him go early. James was very much delighted by that, telling me how Coach almost never let him do that. He even joked about how I must be his lucky charm before offering to drive me home. His long-time driver, Amir, was kind enough to drop me off despite being out of the way.

Most of the students at Bridgeborn were mostly driven by chauffeurs due to security reasons, especially the ones who came from political lineage like Christabel Vanderbilt, while others did because they were either a stuck-up rich brat or didn’t know how to drive.

Some students, like me and Sidney, took pride in driving on our own. It was one of the things we had in common; enjoying the silence being alone had to offer. And because of that, we were usually in charge of driving to secret party locations whenever our friends tried to sneak out.

As soon as I finished my bath, I checked my phone for any messages. There were four from Sidney, and then one from James. I opened James’ message first.

James Evans: Coffee again tomorrow? Goodnight xx

I let out a huge sigh of contentment, smiling stupidly as big as Ronald McDonald’s, before falling asleep, completely forgetting to reply to either James or Sidney.