Chapter 6
I was feeling pretty confident by the time the bell went at eight fifty, signaling fifteen minutes before the start of the school day, and when I was greeted by a familiar voice, I came close to crying with sheer relief.
"Oh my god! Oh my god!" a tall curvaceous blond with a smile the size of a football pitch squealed loudly, drawing my attention and everyone else's as she barreled through several groups of students in her bid to reach me.
I wasn't nearly prepared for the monster hug I was enveloped in when she reached me, even though I should have expected nothing less from Claire Biggs.
Being greeted by actual smiling, friendly faces instead of what I was used to was overwhelming for me.
"Shannon Lynch," Claire half giggled, half choked out, squeezing me tightly. "You're actually here!"
"I'm here," I agreed with a small laugh, patting her back as I tried and failed to free myself from her lung-crushing embrace. "But I won't be for much longer if you don't ease up on the squeezing."
"Oh, crap. Sorry." Claire laughed, immediately taking a step back and releasing me from her death hold. "I forgot you haven't grown since fourth class." She took another step back and looked me over. "Make that third class," she snickered, eyes dancing with mischief.
This wasn't a dig; it was an observation and a fact.
I was exceptionally small for my age, dwarfed even further by my friend's five-foot-nine frame.
She was tall, athletically built, and exceptionally beautiful. It wasn't a demure form of beauty, either. No, it shot out of her face like sunbeams.
Claire was simply dazzling with big puppy-dog brown eyes and ringlets of light-blond curls. She had a sunny disposition and a smile that could warm the coldest of hearts.
Even at four years old, I'd known this girl was different.
I could feel the kindness radiating out of her. I'd felt it as she stood in my corner for eight long years, defending me to her own detriment.
She knew the difference between right and wrong and was prepared to step in for anyone weaker than her.
She was a keeper.
We had drifted apart since going to separate secondary schools, but one look at her and I knew she was still the same old Claire.
"We can't all be beanpoles," I shot back good-naturedly, knowing her words were not meant to hurt me.
"God, I'm so glad you're here." She shook her head and smiled down at me. She did this adorable happy dance and then threw her arms around me once more. "I can't believe your parents finally did the right thing by you."
"Yeah," I replied, uncomfortable again. "Eventually."
"Shan, it won't be like that here." Claire's tone was serious now, eyes full of unspoken emotion. "All that shit you've suffered? It's in the past." She sighed again and I knew she was holding her tongue, refraining from saying everything she wanted to.
Claire knew. She witnessed how it was for me back in primary school. For some unknown reason, I was glad she hadn't seen how much worse it had gotten.
It was a humiliation I didn't want to feel anymore.
"I'm here for you," she continued to say, "and Lizzie, too-if she ever decides to drag her ass out of bed and actually come to school."
Smiling brightly, I banished my demons to the back of my mind and said, "Here's to a fresh start."
"Yes, girl!" Claire said with keen enthusiasm, fist-bumping me in the process. "A fresh start with the sunny side up."
The first half of the day went better than I could have ever anticipated. Claire introduced me to her friends, and while I couldn't remember the names of most of the people I had met, I was incredibly grateful to be included and, I dared say, accepted.
Inclusion wasn't something I was used to, and I found myself working hard to keep up with the constant flow of conversation and friendly questions aimed at me.
Spending as much time as I did in my own company made it difficult for me to integrate back into normal teenage society. Having people other than Joey and his friends that were willing to sit with me, talk to me, and walk with me at school was a mind-blowing experience.
When my other primary-school friend, Lizzie Young, eventually showed up to school halfway through the third class of the morning, blaming a dentist appointment for her absence, we immediately fell back into the familiar friendship we always had.
Lizzie rolled into school in a boy's school trousers and runners, uncaring of what anyone had to say about her appearance. She honestly didn't seem to care what people thought. She dressed according to her mood and projected vibes the same way. She could show up tomorrow in a skirt and with a full face of makeup. She did what she wanted to do when she wanted to do it, unaware and uncaring of anyone else's opinion.
She oozed a lazy sort of confidence with her long dark-blond swishing ponytail and makeup-free face, emphasizing those big blue eyes of hers.
I also noted all through our classes that Lizzie received plenty of male attention regardless of the baggy trousers and messy hair she was sporting, proving the point that you don't need to strip down and paint your face to attract the opposite sex.
A genuine smile and a nice personality went a long way.
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