Page 11 of The Secret Of Us

Walkingaround with Izzy all day has been strange.

After our first class, we both had a free period, so she took it upon herself to show me where the library and other classrooms were before we headed to chemistry together. I didn’t expect this much from her, but she’s been kind to me, even though I’ve barely said a word to her.

People have been staring at us as we stroll around together. Every pair of eyes focused on me feels like a physical brand burning into my skin, but Izzy doesn’t take any notice of them.

I keep trying to shrink myself down, keeping my head low and avoiding eye contact with anyone, whereas Izzy does the opposite. A ton of people say hi to her in the corridors, and it’s clear she’s quite popular. She seems so comfortable in her own skin, and it’s a trait I’m both envious of and admire.

We’re walking to the exit of the main building, our classes over for the day, when I hear my name being called.

“Ah, Noah. There you are. Could you come to my office for a minute?”

I’ve been waiting all day for Mrs. Fisher to catch up with me. We met with her yesterday, and she told my parents she’d find me on Monday to make sure I was getting settled in well.

I nod, and even though Mrs. Fisher has already started walking toward her office, I feel like I should say something to Izzy. She went above and beyond for me today, insisting I eat lunch with her and her friends and waiting for me once classes finished. She didn’t have to do any of that, but I’m grateful she did. It’s made the whole day a lot easier than I thought it would be.

“Thank you for your help today,” I tell her, stepping in front of her so we’re facing each other. I hope she can hear the sincerity in my voice. She’s tried making conversation with me all day, but I’ve been less than receptive. In all honesty, she makes me nervous. And it was kind of nice to just listen to her talk.

“If you need anything else or want a friend to eat lunch with, let me know.” She smiles brightly, and it’s so genuine that it shocks me for a second.

She doesn’t move, and neither do I. I’m suddenly all too conscious of my body and how I’m looming over her. I step away, putting some distance between us. I try my best to attempt a smile again to mirror the one she’s given me. I can feel the muscles in my face stretching, dusting themselves off because they haven’t been used in so long.

“Thank you,” I say again, but it’s for a different reason this time.

Izzy just nods, that smile still on her face as I turn and follow after Mrs. Fisher, my heart beating a little faster than it was before.

* * *

The doorto her office is open, so I enter and close it behind me. She’s already sitting behind a large wooden desk, and a wide window behind her lets in some natural light that bathes the room in a hazy glow. I take a seat in one of the two chairs in front of her desk, placing my bag on the ground between my feet.

“How was your first day? Settling in well?” Mrs. Fisher asks.

She’s one of the few people who knows why I had to come to Coates. Although she’s been nice to me so far, I’m worried about what she might really think of me.

“It was good. Izzy helped me a lot.”

My face feels warm again at the mention of her. But she deserves some credit for how much she did for me today. I hope that talking her up to Mrs. Fisher will benefit her in some way.

“I’m glad to hear you’ve already started making friends,” she says, leaning back in her chair and folding her deep brown hands together.

I simply nod because that’s the furthest thing from what I want to do this year. By this time next week, Izzy will probably be bored of me, and we won’t be anything more than classmates.

“I know it must be difficult to start at a new school, especially at this point in your education.”

“It’s not as bad as I thought it would be,” I tell her, hoping a bit of optimism will make this conversation end quicker.

Mrs. Fisher watches me for a second, and I tuck my hands under my thighs to stop myself from fidgeting with them under her gaze. Her dark brown eyes analyse me like she can see what I’m really thinking. She sits forward in her chair, resting an elbow on her desk as she places one hand under her chin.

“What happened at your old school…” She pauses, choosing her next words carefully. “I spoke with your parents about it, but I’d like to hear it in your own words.”

I don’t know what kind of game she’s playing. She knows what happened, so what difference will it make if I say it again? When she spoke about it with my parents, I was excused from the room, most likely to spare me the embarrassment of my past actions being brought up.

“I acted out of character,” I tell her quietly, avoiding her eyes as I stare down at the desk instead.

I’m already trying to defend myself against the idea she must have of me.

“And what caused that?”

“I had to protect my sister.”

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