Noelle
Fifteen minutes later, we’re sitting in the history classroom, and I’m starting to get keyed-up.
I managed to avoid deeper conversation with Vivienne so far, because roll call had started right after our first short conversation, and then I was able to get away with acting like I was lost in thought for the walk to the first class of the day. But this is going to be critical.
Chloe told me that it’s probably a good idea to avoid spending too much time talking to Vivienne, especially at the start. Because if anybody’s going to realise, it’s her. And this is the first step in that direction, considering that we’re going to spend the next two months researching for a group work project. Everybody’s going to look to collaborate with their best friend, which would pair me with Vivienne.
But she would immediately know if she saw me work now. It’s going to take at least a month until I’m completely caught up with Chloe just on class material, and that still doesn’t mean that I’m going to be or even sound as smart as her.
So, for the entire time it took us to walk to history class, I tried to come up with some excuse that wouldn’t let me work with her. Chloe and I both tried to brainstorm something, but never ended on a definitive plan. The best she could ever offer was to somehow end up not sitting next to her and then work with my desk mate. But then, how could I do that without openly offending her? Even then, it’s still an overt choice against her and in favour of somebody else.
I tried to make her walk in ahead of me to buy myself some more thinking time by acting like my shoelaces had come undone, but she just stopped next to me patiently, waiting, watching to make sure nobody was going to run into me.
Mr Brady walks in and the buzz of voices quiets a little. His eyes meet mine and he offers a warm smile, his lips indicating a short greeting as he sits down to unpack his laptop for the class.
I stare dumbfounded for a long moment before I realise that this must be entirely normal for Chloe. She’s a student representative, after all. She must spend a lot of time around the teachers, and even beyond that, I already knew they had to like her.
Another moment later, the teacher gets back up and greets us, starting a monologue detailing the specific requirements for this project. But I already know all of that. We get to choose the topics ourselves, but it’ll have to be about something that happened within the greater context of one of the two world wars. We have two months to complete the project, we may not use Wikipedia, and we’re supposed to use at least five separate scientific sources. We’re going to use the MLA format for quotations, and yes, we’re supposed to use in-line quotes in the PowerPoint slides for the presentations. We’re free to design the slides in an interesting way, but form follows function and even more importantly, quality.
As he goes over some projects students have done in the past, I have an idea.
Quickly, I write a few words on my notepad, then elbow her lightly and turn the pad so she can read. I’m confident that she’s not going to see anything special about my handwriting: Chloe and I did some testing yesterday, and while our respective handwriting didn’t stay with the respective body, it is a lot easier than it should be to imitate the other’s handwriting.
Do you already know what topic you’re going to do?
She looks up, and briefly meets my eyes before taking my pen and writing in her slightly slanted script,
Whatever you wanna do!
She grins innocently as my excitement at the idea combusts spontaneously.
Unless you don’t have anything, either. Then I’m sure I can come up with something interesting!
So that’s that. I force a little smile in reply, and turn my attention back to the front of the room.
“Now, I’m sure all of you are itching to finally find out your partner for this assignment,” Mr Brady says just then, unaware of the confused murmur that wanders through the rows.
Looking down, he produces a sheet from a folder on his desk. “Now, because I know you people, and because other than this beautiful country,” he gives a sarcastic scoff, “this class is not a democracy, I assigned the partners for this project myself. This is as much a scholarly challenge as it is a social one.”
Next to me, Vivienne gives a disappointed huff before leaning over. “Do you think he’s aware we’re gonna be just as good on our own, just with twice the results for him to fact-check?”
Relief washes through me. Sure, it’ll likely be a lot more work if I work with somebody who’s not Vivienne, but I have two whole months. I’ll be able to catch up by the end of it. It’s not like I ever really struggled with school. “Let’s be extra annoying and use a single faulty one at the start so he’ll have to check every single one, and then use way too many.”
“Everybody quiet down!” the teacher demands in a slightly raised voice, and the students follow the command. Everybody respects him, mostly, because he’s one of the youngest teachers while also being a highly competent one. At least by what I can tell from the vantage point of a student.
“Okay, so, here we go. Lucille Mason and Nur Shamas. Noel Boutin and Dorothea Artell.”
I flinch habitually at the sound of my own name, but then look over at Chloe. She’s sitting silently at the back of the class, pretty much as far away from me as possible. She’s looking over at Thea, but her posture doesn’t indicate a particular interest. She’s very good at this, unsurprisingly.
I wonder how it makes sense that she, that I, am paired with yet another loner. Thea is a goth who talks little during class. If she has friends, they’re not at this school.
But what’s the didactic merit of pairing two asocials with limited scholarly success? Offering conversation on the same level in the ‘either this goes perfectly and I’ve given each of them a friend, or they implode and fail the task’ way?
Before I can think on it further, I hear my ‘own’ name and my heart skips a beat.
“Chloe Sammons and Jason Monroe.”
Jason Monroe is a huge guy. He’s easily 1.90 metres tall, and his shoulders are twice as broad as mine. His arms are only barely not the same size as my thighs. Even in my old body, I’m sure he weighs twice as much as I.
He’s a base in our school’s cheerleading team, so he could probably very easily throw me as well. In spite of his size, though, he’s not very intimidating. The buzzed sides of his head do little to hide his awkwardly prominent ears, and he has a habit of disrupting class without really meaning to, because his friends keep poking him. He seems pretty nice from what I could tell, but can sometimes be a little clueless. Which, I suppose, is perfect for my purposes.
“Okay, so that’s it for the groups,” Mr Brady says, interrupting my thoughts. “You have the rest of this class to get together and start brainstorming topics, and maybe even start putting together a proposal with potential sources. Do make sure to use this time well, because two months isn’t that much time, and you’ll be sorely disappointed if you expect any leniency on this.”
“Have fun,” Vivienne says, her voice easily carrying through the rising noise of people getting up and complaining around us. She was paired with Neels Leighton, another cheerleading base, usually one of the reasons when Jason gets reprimanded.
“Thanks,” I say, straightening up. “See ya later.”
And then Jason is next to me, dropping into her seat with a grin. He probably thinks it’s attractive, but in truth it looks a little — I stop the thought before it can go any further. I’m supposed to be Chloe. I’m nice to everybody. I like everybody. I’m positive.
“So,” he asks, leaning in slightly, “how are things on planet Chloe?”
My brain short circuits and I stare at him for a whole second before blinking. My head cocks mechanically. “Sorry?”
The poor man goes beet red as his gaze flickers away. “Uhm, that sounded a lot more cheesy out loud than it did in my head.”
My chest warms, and a low chuckle bubbles up my throat. That may have been both cheesy and goofy, but it was also kind of adorable. My lips part, and immediately I think back to the way I’d watch Chloe’s teeth flash when she found something funny. Do I look that way right now?
“Things are good on my planet,” I say, finally having caught myself. “Y’know, the stars are really pretty if you don’t have an atmosphere obfuscating the view.” I squint my eyes in an almost wink, without really thinking about it, and only realise afterwards that that’s something Chloe does sometimes to punctuate humour.
Jason hesitates. “Do you like star gazing?” he asks then, slowly.
I shrug, amused. “During summer I do? When it’s not too cold to be out at night?” But at the same time, my mind is working at full capacity. Chloe did not have the time to tell me everything I would need to know about everybody in our whole year. She only ever covered her closest friends, like Vivienne, or stuff teachers might bring up. She never mentioned Jason, but it doesn’t seem like they knew each other very well.
Jason goes even redder, impossibly. “I swear, I’m not that dumb usually. I guess I haven’t really woken up yet.”
“It’s fine,” I chuckle. “Had a late night last night?” I mean, I did, definitely. I stayed up way too late studying the notes Chloe and I compiled, and then just marvelling at the wonder of this new body. But then I’m also in a constant state of excitement, so keeping myself engaged isn’t very difficult for now.
He nods. “Yeah. Training with the boys and then dinner at Benny’s.”
Benny’s is one of the more common restaurants around school. Not typically the kind of place students would go for lunch, but seniors might very well go there to celebrate a long and productive day. I’ve never actually been there myself, but Chloe said she’s gone a few times, even though greasy burgers don’t really seem to suit her.
“Have sore muscles now?” I ask innocently.
“A little.” He shrugs, then his eyes seem to refocus. “Fuck, right, we’re supposed to do a project together, and I’m supposed to not distract you.”
I tilt my head, raising an eyebrow as my lips quirk. “It’s fine, we’re supposed to work together as a team. Getting along is a great first step to that end.”
His eyes meet mine, and he opens his mouth, but then hesitates. Finally, he asks, “What were you doing yesterday, then?”
Obviously, I can’t tell him the truth, so instead, I tell him what Chloe told me to say if Vivienne asked that very same question. “I sat by the window, drank tea and read a book,” I say vaguely, completely ready to leave it at that.
But he follows up with, “What book?” like he might actually know.
So I readjust my posture, propping an elbow onto my desk, and say, “Before I Fall, by Lauren Oliver.”
He raises his eyebrows curiously. “What’s it about?”
I shrug vaguely. “A girl gets caught in a time loop on the final day before she dies.”
His head tilts, indicating continued interest. But his brow furrows, too. “Does she manage to survive?”
I shake my head. “It’s not about surviving. It’s not about escaping your fate or some miracle solution. It’s about making the best of what you have, and making it count anyway.”
“That sounds really sad,” he says, his eyes watching me.
“I think it’s quite beautiful.” I shrug, Chloe’s words echoing in my mind. Maybe I should read the book sometime as well. She really did seem to like it. “And powerful, too. You know, it’s not escapism, really, and talks about facing reality instead.”
He gives a low laugh. “Shit, you make me want to start reading a book, Sammons.”
“Please don’t call me by my last name,” I say before I can think better of it. The real Chloe probably wouldn’t have said anything about it, but I know she’d be uncomfortable with it.
He nods his head, indicating an apologetic bow. “As you wish, my lady.”
My lips crack once more, but I choose to ignore his further attempts at cheesiness, instead clicking my pen as I ready my notepad. It’s time to get to business. “Alright, do you have a topic you would like to do the project about?”
***