Page 17 of Love Beyond Repair
Get a job, tick.
But have all those ticks been what I wanted, or what IthoughtI should want?
When I was a little girl, I dreamed of being a flight attendant and traveling the globe, waking up in different places while seeing the wonders of the world. My family told me a flight attendant was nothing but a glorified waitress, atrolley dolly.I accepted that judgment and moved on to a more appropriate career withprospects.
What I would give to live a day in the life of Terry. To be as carefree. To not worry about what’s around the corner. Just to experience life in its raw state. Maybe it’s time I stopped following the plan. Maybe it’s time I started asking for what I want.
I have a good feeling about Terry Trodden; he’s going to be a wonderful addition to our little group and to my life.
Chapter nine
Bex
Thank fuck it’s Friday!
My first week is over as a real teacher in a real school. If I’m being honest, I nailed it. The kids are fantastic. We had a brilliant time getting to know each other. A few pupils are going to be a test. Especially with me being a newly qualified teacher, I’m considered fresh meat.
Some of my students are only five years younger than me. But when I walked through cling film stretched over my door, I didn’t lose my temper, then returned the favor in their next lesson with whoopee cushions on their chairs, I did my credibility a lot of good. Sometimes actions really do speak louder than words.
To me, being a teacher is about being approachable and having a good sense of humor. But not being a walkover. It’s a fine line. Over the past four years, I’ve completed placements and a probation year, but it’s not the same as being fully in control of your class.
Having to get all your plans signed off by your mentor is time-consuming. It restricts your teaching. I’ve always taught in a way I believed the system wanted me to, not howIwanted to. Of course, there is a curriculum to follow, but there’s plenty of flexibility within it to put your stamp on your lessons.
Sandbank High is an inner-city secondary school. It’s low on funds, so budgets are tight. This means we must get creative with our teaching materials. The kids turn up, and most of them want to succeed. The school has managed to instill in the pupils a desire to learn, something a lot of institutions fail at, no matter whether they have big budgets or small.
It’s four o’clock on Friday afternoon, and no one else is home. I’m enjoying the peace. This week has been stressful. I’ve been up an hour earlier than required each day, arriving in my classroom by 07:45 am. My teaching schedule is packed. Having only four free periods in the whole week, I’m already bringing work home.
Ben and Kelsey’s sex life is having an impact on my sleep. With my first paycheck, I’m buying those noise-canceling headphones. I mean, what man can get it up at 03:00 amevery day and still function normally? Not that I’m bitter or anything; it’s just been a long time since I’ve had sex with anyone. Or anything not shaped like a rabbit.
Everyone starts arriving home around six. I’ve thoroughly enjoyed my alone time, but our big night out tonight is calling. Terry promised he’s going to show us the local hotspots.
I’m not sure my idea of a nice place and Terry’s idea of a nice place are the same. But, having gotten to know him this week, we’ll have a fantastic night wherever we end up. He’s become part of the furniture already. A weird, chaotic, wonderful extension of the gang.
Terry has camped out in our living room every night. He’s lonely and normally goes out on his own. I can just imagine him tagging onto whatever group is in the pub, then dragging the poor people along to a random club with him.
Most of Terry’s friends are married and have children now; nights out for them are few and far between. Plus, from what he’s said, most of his friends’ wives don’t like him. They see him as a bad influence on their perfect, domesticated husbands. Heaven forbid their husbands laugh too much.
Operation: Night Outgets underway as soon as Amy arrives home. She’s our glam master, ensuring we’re all suitably turned out to be in her presence during a night on the town. I don’t do glam. My body must remain fully covered.
I prefer to hide under long-sleeved tops with jeans. My hair hangs limply down the sides of my face. As for makeup, it frightens me. Amy did my face once, and I ended up with black eyes teamed with hooker-red lips. Never again. To escape her meddling, I hide in my room until everyone else is ready to go, then tag on at the end so she can’tdo me upagainst my will.
Nine o’clock rolls around, and it’s time to go. I emerge from my hiding place, dull and drab as always. Amy rolls her eyes but says nothing. I ignore her. She’s not ruining my night by starting the same argument we’ve had a thousand times before.Be more confident, Bex. Flaunt what the big man gave you, Bex.I’ve never been one for flaunting my body. I have nothing to flaunt.
It’s easy for Amy. She’s perfect. I’m the other twin, and I know it. All the crap-looking genes from our parents came to me, while she was blessed with all the good-looking ones. When I cover myself in makeup and wear a short dress, I look pathetic. It’s sad, it depresses me, but I accept it. Most days. No one will ever want me the way men want my sister.
Kelsey appears pure; that’s the only way to describe her. She has this serene look—both wholesome and honest. Always wearing flowery dresses that skim her body but don’t cling to her curves. She can pull off classy-sexy with such style, it’s sickening. Always so composed. Always so damn perfect. On a night out, I stand as far away fromher as possible, as the petite, feminine girl next to my more bulky appearance only accentuates my ugliness.
Next to Kelsey, Ben is as dashing as ever. He rocks the definition of tall, dark, and handsome. Those blue eyes of his see through you and make your heart flutter, but I’d never admit it to anyone. He’s one of my best friends, but you would have to be blind or dead not to find him attractive?and even a blind person could still feel his magnetic presence. He’s always dressed sharply in expensive jeans and fitted t-shirts with a sleek jacket to complete the look.
He turns women’s heads wherever he goes, but the most endearing thing about him is that he never notices. He only has eyes for Kelsey. It’s been that way since they were sixteen. They’ve nailed the first-love thing. It’s both wonderful and sickening to watch, knowing that it will never be me.
The five of us head out into the bright lights of London, completely reliant on Terry’s knowledge of the nightlife. Our first stop is the local pub, The Smoking Goat. It’s warm and cozy, packed to the brim with locals.
In one corner of the pub, there is a group of clearly underage schoolies, hiding and sending the oldest looking one up to get the next round for them all. The girls hardly have any clothes on. The boys are drooling over them but trying to act cool. I cringe to think that was us not long ago. I was always the one who got the drinks. I always passed forolder with my sharp cheekbones, and no clue how to smile cutely. It worked.
Terry nabs a table in the far corner of the pub, a booth. It has a brilliant view for people-watching. We all settle in, and Terry heads to the bar to order the first round. Ten quid each in a kitty, and off we go.
The woman behind the bar is older, maybe in her fifties. She has blonde bobbed hair and is caked in more makeup than a drag queen. Her smile is broad. It’s clear she knows him well as he leans over the surface to kiss her cheek.
