Letters Aren't Always For Love

Lesson Six: Don't Go Back After You've Already Been There

Chapter Six

The teacher let Cole back into the classroom after ten minutes. His hands were stuffed into his pant pockets and he had a frown on his face. His eyes were also facing the floor. He looked completely different to the guy that had just drawn a giant penis on the board.

What had she said to him?

I did feel a little bit bad. I shouldn't do because Cole Taylor was a pain in my ass but the way he looked right now was downright awful. He had been told off so many times before so how come this was different?

Hell! He told me that he wanted me to misbehave, so what was the deal?

He slouched down in his seat next to me, not saying anything. "What is wrong with you?" I asked as the teacher stood at the front, talking to the lad that was sat next to Cole originally.

"Shut up." He snapped.

He grabbed something – a compass – out of his pocket and placed the sharp, silver point in the middle of the desk. Swinging it around in circles with his forefinger he kept his head down, just concentrating on digging a pin prick of a hole in the desk.

There were that many scruffs and marks on the desk already and dozens of ruler marks where people had sawn the edge that whatever damage he was inflicting was nothing. One piece of graffiti read LM and PJ were found kissing in the toilets! Eww!! And then underneath it Shut up Frankie, you're just jealous.

Oh, bloody hell!

"Seriously, you're in a mood with me?" I spoke rhetorically. "That is a bit rich. I can name five things off the top of my head right now that you have done worse to me. Jesus."

He gave me side-eye, which I could tell were still glaring. "You don't know anything, Bailey."

"I know enough," I huffed. I knew who Cole was. I knew his older brothers, his mum and I know his grandma Betsy.

Betsy lived at number 15 Spring Street and I live at number 12. I know that Betsy had lived in that house since she was two years old and I also know that she is the oldest person on the street by about fifty years.

The interior of her house is made up of pictures of dogs she has had in the past, and like her daughter, has photos of her family littering the walls. I used to play in her garden when I was a little girl and she babysat me on more than one occasion.

Sure, I hate Cole now but I have known his family my whole life. For him to even suggest that I 'don't know anything' is ridiculous.

"Whatever," he muttered, just concentrating on spinning the compass around.

"If you want to be in a mood, be in one." I told him. "Just don't bring the rest of us down with you."

He stayed silent as I watched him. His face was wearing a frown and he looked fed up. His head was resting in the palm of his hand like he was about to fall asleep, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to the elbows.

He was good looking, there was no denying it. All of his brothers were – it is just his arrogance has always outshone whatever physical qualities he has. With the mild sunlight shining through the broken blinds, you could see the faint, light pink scar just above his left eyebrow that was about one and half inches long.

I remember when that happened actually. We had been playing knock a door run when we were about eleven years old and we found out that Natalie Byrne's older brother Max actually chased after you. He was absolutely crazy, when he see' me in the street he glares at me still and it was almost four years ago.