Chapter Five: Bubblegum and Butterflies by Lynette Ferreira
She could still see the faint colour change the cherry-red
bubblegum had made in her hair when she glanced in the mirror. The faint circle
of pink mocked her every time she saw it. Her mom’s frantic efforts to remove
it completely had failed. When she saw the faint pink mockery, she remembered
the embarrassment of being knocked to the ground, landing in an unflattering
lump on the bricks. The haters who thought that she thought she was better than
them were snickering as they stared at her. She wondered if she was trending on
social media yet, accompanied by some shaming lyrics. Everything about the
situation screamed unfair.
Her mom’s sharp voice echoed through the house. “Charlize,
come here!”
Charlize frowned and walked toward the living area, leaving
her cereal uneaten. She would not have been able to eat it anyway. Her left
hand was not very user-friendly, and her stomach was in bits about facing
everyone at school today.
Her mother was sitting on the plush white couch surrounded
by pale pastel coloured scatter cushions. Her phone was clutched tightly in her
hand. Annemarie van der Merwe’s expression was a mask of indignation. “Mr. Du
Plessis, I insist something be done about that boy,” she said, addressing the
principal of Vaalriver High on speakerphone. “It’s unacceptable that a student
like him is allowed to cause such harm. My daughter is in pain. She has a cast,
and this will undoubtedly affect her studies and her year-end exams in six
weeks.”
Charlize groaned internally. Her mom had gone from fretting
to full-on crusader mode in less than 24-hours. A transformation that left
Charlize feeling both embarrassed and exasperated, as always. Did her mom
really think this was helping? The weight of her cast seemed to intensify as
she stood there, caught between her desire to defend herself and her
frustration at the situation spiralling out of her control.
“Mrs. van der Merwe,” Principal Du Plessis replied on speakerphone, his tone
was calm and measured. This was not the first time he had to deal with her. “I
understand your concerns, and I assure you, we take incidents like this
seriously. I will speak to Daniel today and determine the best course of
action.”
“See that you do,” Annemarie huffed. “And I expect
accountability.”
Charlize cringed as her mom ended the call without saying
goodbye. “There. That boy needs to learn consequences.”
“Mom,” Charlize began, trying to rein in her frustration.
“I’m fine. It was an accident.”
Annemarie’s lips thinned. “Accident or not, someone needs to
ensure that you’re supported while you’re recovering. This is about more than
just your arm, Charlize. It’s about ensuring you succeed despite this…
disruption.”
*
In the principal’s office, Daniel slouched in the stiff
leather chair. His one leg was bouncing with restless energy. He had been
summoned during his free period, and he knew exactly why.
The memory of Charlize’s mom’s glare as she dropped Charlize
off this morning in her expensive BMW, just as he was walking into the school
gate with his skateboard under his arm, made his stomach churn. He tried to
shake off the unease that was creeping up on him, but a nagging thought
remained. Maybe this time he had really gone too far, even though he did not do
it on purpose. He fiddled with the frayed edge of his blazer and did his best
to mask his guilt with an air of uncaring nonchalance.
Principal Du Plessis leaned back in his chair, fixing Daniel
with a stern look. “Do you know why you’re here, Daniel?”
“Let me guess,” Daniel said with a smirk. “Someone’s upset
about her hair.”
Principal Du Plessis’ brow furrowed. “This isn’t a joke.
Charlize van der Merwe suffered a serious injury because of your carelessness.
You’re lucky her parents haven’t pressed any charges.”
Daniel’s smirk faded. He rubbed the back of his neck as
guilt twisted the knot in his stomach. “I didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt.
It was an accident.”
“Perhaps,” the principal said in a clipped tone. “But
actions have consequences, Daniel. As of today, you’ll be assisting Charlize in
anything she needs related to her studies.”
Daniel sat up. “What?”
“She’s recovering from an injury and needs support. This arrangement
will ensure she stays on track academically, while teaching you responsibility.”
Daniel’s mouth opened to argue, but Principal Du Plessis
held up a hand. “This isn’t negotiable. You’ll meet Charlize after school today
to go over the subjects you’ll help her with. I suggest you take this
seriously, or there will be further consequences like detention for the rest of
the term, suspension, or even community service hours. The choice is yours.”
Daniel leaned back and crossed his arms. “Fine. Whatever.”
The principal sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re
capable of more than this attitude, Daniel. Show me that you can rise to the occasion.”
*
Charlize’s day passed in a haze of whispers and sidelong
glances as word spread about her accident. By the time the final bell rang, she
was exhausted both from the physical ache in her arm and the mental strain of
pretending she was not bothered by the stares.
When she reached the library, Daniel was already there. He
was slouched in a chair with his skateboard resting against the leg of the
table. He looked up as she entered, and his dark eyes met hers with a mix of
defiance and something she could not quite place. Maybe guilt, but it was hard
to tell.
“Great,” she muttered as she dropped her bag onto the table.
“This is just what I needed.” If it was not for her mother’s insistence, then
she would most certainly not be here.
Daniel raised an eyebrow. “Trust me, princess, I’m not
thrilled either.”
She glared at him as her frustration bubbled over. “This isn’t
some punishment for me. I’m the one with the broken arm, and it’s my right arm.
I’m right-handed! Do you know how hard it is going to be for me to write my
exams like this?” She hesitated as her annoyance faded slightly and the reality
of the situation sank in. She needed help, that much was undeniable. If she
tried to tough it out alone, her grades would suffer, and she could not let
that happen. Ever. The pain in her arm was relentless, making it impossible to
hold a pen steady enough to take her own notes. Each attempt to jot down even a
simple sentence left her frustrated and defeated. With a resigned sigh, she
decided that dealing with Daniel’s attitude was a small price to pay to stay on
track. She just needed him to write down the notes for her. It should be easy
and simple. They would not have to spend more time together than absolutely
necessary.
“And I’m the one stuck playing tutor,” Daniel shot back. “I
should be worried about writing my matric, and instead I’m here with you
helping you prepare for your Grade 11 exam, as if you need any help. So, maybe
we can both agree that this sucks and just get it over with.”
Charlize stared at him. She was taken aback by his bluntness
and for a moment the tension hung thick between them. She pulled out her
notebook. “Fine. Let’s just get through this.”
Daniel leaned back and a faint infuriating smirk tugged at
his lips. “That’s the spirit.” He took her notebook from the table and flipped
it open. When he saw the perfectly colour-coded notes with every sentence
meticulously highlighted, he shook his head but did not have anything sarcastic
to say. The guilt in his gut did grow a little bigger than what it already was.
Watching Daniel write out summary notes as she dictated them
to him was both a relief and an annoyance. She hated depending on him but knew
that she had no choice. If she wanted to stay on top of her studies, she would
have to rely on him even if it made her skin crawl.
When the topic of creative writing came up, he leaned
forward slightly, his voice losing its usual sarcastic tone. “You don’t just
write what you see,” he said, tapping his pen on the page. “You write what you
feel. It’s like skating. You have to let go of control a little and just let it
flow. That’s when it clicks.”
As much as she hated to admit it, she started to wonder if
there might be more to Daniel McCarthy than she had thought.
