Thinking, Thinking, Thinking

Jamie stalked home, weaving in and out of the street crowd. They paid her no mind. She hadn’t hoped that they would. Still, she was too lost in my thoughts to care. Ooh, Oliver made her so mad, especially after everything he said about her. Called her an aloof rich kid in front of everyone, saying she had probably bribed the teachers, so she wouldn’t have to do anything. It was all a lie, of course. Jamie worked just as hard as any other student. The next time he said anything to her, she swore she was going to snap at him. Tell him that no one plans a murder out loud. Yes, that’s what she would do. Oh, and Catherine with a C. That idiot. If she would just study the material, she wouldn’t be complaining about the class. If she got a taste of her own medicine, she wouldn’t be talking trash about everyone else. To think Jamie was still going to that school. To think that Jamie still managed to put up with everyone. 

Then, there was Edward, more commonly known as Ed. He was the only light in that darkened school. His dark eyes were often hidden by his long dark hair, but they met Jamie’s, the world faded. Abandoning thoughts of those other miserable souls, her mind turned to the image of him. He was tall, nearly towering over everyone else. She wondered if they would run into each other today. They had a few of the same classes together, all of which she excelled at. Perhaps it was the fact that her education had started early, though my schooling started late. Perhaps it was the nearly photographic memory she had forged for herself. Or perhaps it was just the fact that despite the elite school, the lessons were as elementary as anything else. Nevertheless, she was lucky enough to sit next to him in most of the classes. Well, to be specific, she sat behind him, but she could always imagine his eyes staring holes into the chalkboard. 

If Ed greeted her, she would smile brightly.

“Good morning to you too,” she'd say. He would smile even brighter and sit down in front of her. 

If he asked her for a pencil, she had one ready. Yes, of course, she would. She’d pull of the blue one, his favorite color. 

“I know this is your favorite color,” she would say without sounding too creepy. He’d smile and wink before turning away. 

If Ed asked for some spare notebook paper, she had a whole pack. The standard size, of course. Not the obnoxiously large papers. Not the obnoxiously large lines either. Jamie knew what Ed’s handwriting looked like. It was small, fitting perfectly in the college-ruled lines. Yes, she had a whole pack of college-ruled notebook paper. 

“Here,” she would say. “It’s college-ruled. I hope that’s okay.” He’d smile. 

“Yeah, that’s perfect actually. I prefer college-ruled,” Ed would reply before turning away. Yes, Jamie knew very well that Ed preferred college ruled. The lines were perfect for her small handwriting and the excess amount of information she always wanted to fit on one page. Not that she needed all the information, of course. Most of the presentation would be put online at some time or another, and Jamie knew most of the material by heart after the class. 

If Ed happened to ask her what book she was reading, she knew exactly what to tell him. 

“It’s about a princess rescuing her kingdom,” she’d say simply. “She has a nice handsome knight to help her. She knows how to fight.” Ed would smile and ask to see the book itself. Jamie would let him, watching as he flipped through the pages. Yes, that would be perfect. 

At last, Jamie arrived at school. There was a bit more spring in her step as she hurried up the stairs and to class. Her supplies were carefully laid out as soon as the bell rang. 

“Hey, Jamie,” he greeted before sitting down. Jamie tried to smile, but he had already turned around before she had the chance. A few minutes into the morning announcements, he turned around.

“Can I have some paper,’ he asked. “Mine’s all wrinkled.” Without a word, Jamie handed him a fresh, clean sheet of notebook paper. 

“It’s college-ruled,” she muttered, and he smiled gratefully. Success, she thought to herself. He seemed pleased. She had given Ed what he needed. Though, Jamie went a bit off-script. That was alright, she decided. His smile far outweighed her failure. 

About halfway through the class, he turned around again. Jamie was prepared and sat up rod straight. 

“Can I borrow a pencil? Mine’s out of the lead,” he whispered. She quickly grabbed the blue one set out for him. He smiled and turned around before she could say anything else. Behind him, Jamie fiddled nervously with her blue pencil. What would he ask for next? Would he even ask for everything else? Those were all the supplies she had. He could ask for her notes. What would she say then? She could just give him the notes, anyway. She didn’t need them. What if he needed help? Jamie would try to explain it the best she could. The material wasn’t difficult after all. 

Soon, the bell rang, and everyone hurried out. Jamie made sure she had all her supplies before leaving the room. She had just started down the hall when she heard it. 

“Hey, rich kid,” Oliver called. Against her will, Jamie turned. That only made Oliver laugh. “You know your title, do you?” Jamie took a breath, ready to face them, but they were already running off. Their laughter seemed to down out everything else in the hall. 

“Get to class, Ms. Wilson,” one of the teachers barked. Jamie hurried off to her next class. Unfortunately, Ed wasn’t in there. Fortunately, that gave Jamie time to think. What would she say if he asked for her notes? Her handwriting was nice enough, so Jamie thought Ed would be able to read it. What about explaining what she’d written? The concepts were pretty simple. It wouldn’t take much to explain them. They were learning about geometric and arithmetic sequences. You just had to plug in the numbers. “a1” was the first number. “n” was how far the sequence was supposed to go. “r” or “d” was just what you did to get to the next number. Yes, Jamie decided. That would be a good way to explain it. Surely, Ed could understand that. 

Then, another thought occurred to her. What if Ed heard Oliver and his goons talking about her? What would she say? Sure, her family was well off. They had more than one house, more than one sports car. But, Jamie never bribed her teachers. Her parents never bribed the teachers. Every grade she got at that school, Jamie worked for. It wasn’t her fault that she was blessed and cursed with near-perfect recall. It wasn’t her fault, so she worked hard all the same. She studied in the moonlight. She scribbled notes under the fluorescent school lights. 

“I study and work hard,” she would insist. Ed would just laugh, and his eyes would sparkle. 

“I know. I’ve seen you,” he would reply. Oh, how she would melt at those words. 

“Have you?”

“Of course. I’ve always seen you.” Yes, that’s what would happen. He was eloquent enough for it, she assured herself. 

Two other classes went by without much action. Finally, though, the bell ran for lunch. Jamie followed everyone down to the lunchroom with her packed food and a nice book. You know, just in case someone asked. She found her usual spot and pulled open her book. Just when she found herself immersed in dialogue, she noticed someone had slid next to her. 

“Hey, what’s that you’re reading,” Ed questioned. She held up the cover of the book and said nothing more.