Charades and Champagne

Zoe took a sip of her coffee and smiled at the extremely attractive individual sitting directly across her at the table. He didn’t disappoint. The answering grin he sent her way was dazzling.

Joshua Winters.

This was a name that never failed to send nervous thrills down her spine whenever she heard it, and now without a hitch, he was finally hers.

Her boyfriend.

Zoe tried not to glance over at the counter, where Tasha, Joshua’s ex, was giving her the evil eye while simultaneously working the espresso machine. Zoe had no idea when exactly Tasha had taken up waitressing at a coffeehouse, but right now that seemed like an insignificant detail in the grand scale of things. Tasha wasn’t a problem anymore. Especially since Joshua had broken things off with her just last week and hadn’t wasted any time in declaring his undying attraction to her, Zoe, either.

This here, was supposed to be their first official date.

Joshua smiled carelessly and leaned forward over the quaint wooden coffee table separating them. To Zoe, the small piece of furniture all but disappeared as her attention instantly shifted to the way he was swiftly covering the distance between them. She reminded herself to breathe. It wasn’t like she hadn’t fantasized about this moment about a million times before after all. But now that it was actually happening, she couldn’t imagine how good it would feel to have his lips on hers. She couldn’t wait.

Joshua paused, his mouth inches away from hers.

“Zoe.” His voice was a husky whisper; almost trancelike.

“Yeah?” she murmured; her gaze fixated on his lips. There was a hint of a smirk on them that made her heart flutter in a way she doubted was great for her wellbeing, but she relished it all the same.

"Zoe!"

The voice came out of Joshua’s mouth, but it suddenly sounded nothing like his – it was sharper, sterner and much more high pitched. Gone was the deep baritone whisper. If she hadn’t witnessed it with her own eyes, she would have doubted that it was Joshua who had spoken.

“What can you tell me about homeostasis and its importance to humans?” Joshua demanded in that same disconcerting voice.

"What?” Zoe reeled back in surprise; positive she had somehow misheard him.

“Answer the question young lady!”

“Young lady?”

“ZOE BLAKE!!”

Zoe’s eyes snapped open. Slowly, she raised her head from behind the textbook propped open in front of her. Only to be pinned in place by the intensity of Mrs. Mitchell’s angry gaze.

Great. She had fallen asleep in Biology. Again.

The whole class was now shooting amused stares at her. Including Joshua. Zoe cringed with embarrassment when she remembered her dream. A result – she knew – of the fantasy she had been daydreaming about repeatedly since he’d shown up at her school three months ago. It was almost habitual for her now. Hence the dream.

No time to think about that right now. Especially not with an annoyed teacher glaring pointedly at her as she tried her best to stifle a yawn.

“Zoe, I’ll have you know that sleeping in class is against school rules,” Mrs. Mitchell informed her as she shuffled her feet nervously.

Zoe just looked back at her blankly. It was pretty weird to hear her teacher’s voice right after it had starred in her dream literally five seconds ago, and this coupled up with the fact that everyone was ogling at her with suppressed smiles left her temporarily speechless in the face of being reminded of the school rules. What was she supposed to do – lie?

Apparently so.

“Um...I know what this looks like Mrs. Mitchell, but I wasn’t sleeping,” Zoe assured her, using what she hoped was her best ‘wide awake’ voice.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I was resting my eyes.”

The moment the words left her mouth, Zoe realized how phenomenally overused and dumb they sounded. She bit her lip, feeling her face begin to heat up rapidly as she heard someone behind her suppress a snort. Still, it was literally the only thing she could come up with at the moment. Especially when she was completely brain dead with sleep.

Mrs. Mitchell’s mouth tightened visibly, a clear indicator that she was losing her patience.

“You were resting your eyes,” she repeated, her voice taking on a dangerous edge.

Zoe nodded, going for the wide-eyed, innocent look. “I, um, yes,” she stammered, her words betraying her nervousness. “But I swear, I was listening to every word you said.” Despite her reassurances, the snickers from her classmates had already begun to spread like wildfire.

“Then you wouldn’t mind repeating the question I just asked about last week’s lesson on regulation now, would you?”

“Uh, not at all.” Zoe’s mind raced, frantically searching for a lifeline to salvage the situation. Her eyes scanned her surroundings. She didn’t find anything helpful. The book lying open on her desk had flipped over to a page detailing the inflammatory response, so there was no hope of finding any inspiration there.

Just as she was about to give up, an idea struck her - the bizarre question that Joshua had thrown at her in her dream. It was a long shot, but Zoe figured it was worth a try. After all, what did she have to lose?

“You asked me about homeostasis and its importance to humans, right?” Zoe asked, praying that her voice sounded confident enough to avoid lunch-time detention.

Mrs. Mitchell looked taken aback. “Yes, I did.” Disbelief colored her voice, but she quickly added, “And the answer is?”

This was the easy part.

“Well for starters, homeostasis is basically the maintenance of physical and chemical stability inside living systems. And on achieving this, animals can retain more or less stable internal conditions despite notable changes to their external environment,” Zoe said, immediately beginning to recite from memory. It was a long and drawn-out answer, but Zoe didn’t miss a beat. She knew the content of her textbook like the back of her hand.

“Well,” said Mrs. Mitchell in amazement once Zoe had finished rattling off the last part of her answer. There was a rare smile on her face, one that her students seldom saw given how strict she normally was with them. “I can see that you’ve studied last week’s work pretty well. I’ll let you off this time but no more sleeping or resting your eyes in class. Understood?”

“Yes ma’am,” Zoe replied meekly, sitting down with a sigh of relief. Detention didn’t really figure high on her list of priorities. She had a lot more on her plate than an average teenager did. She didn’t have time for normal things like detention.

The bell rang, signaling their lunch break. Zoe took her time, clearing up her desk and stuffing her books into her bag as everywhere around her, people began shuffling out of the class in a hurry. Zoe was in no such rush. The cafeteria was only bearable because of her best friends. But the only reason she still ate there was because her mom didn’t have time to make lunch for her. Her mother never had time for her anymore.

Zoe’s parents were divorced.

No, that didn’t sound right. In fact, that was putting it way too mildly. Peter Blake had suddenly upped and left them for a woman almost half his age when Zoe was fourteen.

The aftermath of his betrayal had left a deep and lasting impact on her mother, Natalie Blake, who had never been the same since. Natalie’s days were now consumed by a desperate search for solace in the bottom of a bottle at local bars, where she shamelessly tried to seduce any random man she could find. The only semblance of normalcy in her life came every Monday, when she managed to summon the strength to pull herself together and stumble over to her job as a waitress at Basilico, one of the town’s more upscale restaurants.

Yes, Natalie Blake – once a successful and accomplished interior designer – was now a waitress. Depression really was a force to be reckoned with.

Her mom’s wages there, combined with Zoe’s earnings from her daily singing gigs at Al’s Pizzeria; the local teen hangout, were their only sources of income. It was a far cry from the comfortable life they had once known, but they soldiered on, determined to make the best of a bad situation.

As Zoe brooded on these thoughts, someone elbowed her – none too gently – saying, “Zoe you idiot! You have got to stop sleeping in class. And really? Resting your eyes? I thought you were dead. Do you not sleep at night?”

It was her best friend, Aliza Piper, followed closely by her other best friend, Miles Grayson. They were both exchange students and considerably new ones at that. Zoe had only known them for all of two months now, but they were already pretty inseparable.

Aliza was from New Orleans. She was extremely pretty with her chestnut hair, exotic brown eyes, and coffee colored skin. But despite being so naturally gorgeous, she wasn’t conceited. She refused to have anything to do with the It Crowd in Trinity High. According to her, they were all walking elitist stereotypes. Zoe couldn’t help but agree with that, as shallow as it sounded. And it wasn’t like any of them had proven Aliza wrong either. In fact, it was almost like some of them went out of their way to prove her right.

Miles was a whole other story. Hailing from the posh neighborhood of South Kensington, he was the epitome of British brilliance. He was a genius to the point that it was intimidating. At least for people in general. This was because he didn’t socialize much. Or like, at all really. Zoe and Aliza were his only friends and they were now pretty much immune to his beyond average intelligence and eccentric ways.

In their presence, he let his guard down, revealing a softer, more approachable side to his personality. But with everyone else, he was still stiff and standoffish to the point that he came across as rude or coldly detached.

It wasn’t something he did on purpose. It just sort of happened. Zoe had no clue why he wasn’t like that with her and Aliza, but she suspected that it was to do with the fact that the two of them were the only ones in the whole school who had come over and introduced themselves properly (clingy girls that threw themselves at him because of his accent did not count) and tried to make him feel less alienated in a totally foreign country. So she supposed it wasn’t a total mystery as to why he was so close and easy with them.

Aliza was still talking, completely unaware that Zoe had zoned out.

“I mean, I was like, so surprised when you actually knew the question and its answer,” she said. “I could have sworn that you were fast asleep.”

“Oh, she was asleep alright.” Miles shouldered his backpack and readjusted the strap. “However,” he went on to add as Aliza made swipes at Zoe’s hair, trying to fix the sleep-rumpled mess. “I suspect that her subconscious mind must have acknowledged Mrs. Mitchell’s words when she called out Zoe’s name. And then the question she asked must have come out of the mouth of whoever Zoe was dreaming about. Judging by the manner in which she glanced at a certain Joshua Winters, I assume he was the one who sprouted that question at her. Correct?” Miles smirked; his blue eyes filled with amusement.

Zoe felt a flush of mortification creeping up her cheeks. It was one thing to dream about something embarrassing. People rarely knew unless you told them. But for them to accurately guess it? Yeah, that was plain sorcery.

“H-How did you ...” she spluttered, all traces of vocabulary abandoning her. “You know what?” she decided as Miles smiled back infuriatingly. “I’d rather not know. Let’s just go and eat.” She caught Aliza’s ministering hand from midair and dragged her along, stomping past Miles. He let out a chuckle and followed, catching up easily.

“I mean, he’s not wrong,” Aliza snorted. “What kind of dirty little fantasies did your brain put Joshua through this time?”

“Aliza eww!!” Zoe giggled, pulling away from her and bumping into Miles. “You both are horrible.”

“I have absolutely no part in this, besides stating facts,” Miles declared haughtily. And Zoe would’ve believed him too. Except, he didn’t bother hiding his grin as he said it. She couldn’t help but smile back. Teasing endlessly was Miles’s forte.

A huge racket hit them as they reached the doors of the cafeteria. Or hunting grounds, depending on how you looked at it. Because as far as the student population of Trinity High were concerned, there were only two categories there: Predators and Prey. Until two months ago, Zoe had been a predator. Or at least someone who ran with them. But then in a moment of clumsiness, her popularity status had gone down the drain.

And it was her former best friend who had made sure it stayed that way. Permanently.

“So you guys are coming over to Al’s later, right?” Zoe asked as they bought their food and made their way over to their table at the corner of the cafeteria. She had to basically shout to be heard over all the noise.

“Why do you even ask anymore?” Aliza wanted to know as she slammed her tray down next to Miles and took a seat. “It’s like, our daily ritual now. Go over to Al’s, do our homework while you sing. Then I go home – way too early, mind you – and Miles helps you with your homework. It’s the same old story every day. Speaking of which —” Aliza looked up suddenly to fix Zoe with a stern stare, “if you would just listen to me and wear something sexier than jeans and a t-shirt, Al would give you a raise for drawing more male customers.”

“Liz,” Zoe rolled her eyes. “It’s a pizza house, not a strip club. Besides, that is such a sexist thing to say. I could probably draw women if I wanted to,” she joked.

“All the same,” Miles interjected, biting down on a fry, “you might want to consider her suggestion. There is some potential in what she said.”

Zoe chose to acknowledge this by throwing a diced carrot at him. She knew perfectly well that he’d only said that to rile her up.

Well okay, maybe he’d meant it a little bit. Because of course, logically she needed the money. But still, that didn’t mean she had to actually do what they were suggesting. She knew it would only draw the wrong kind of attention. The kind that she didn’t need right now.

“Oh come on,” Aliza tore open her milk carton as Zoe shook her head stubbornly. “I’m not asking you to wear black lingerie and platform boots. A minidress will do, but makeup won’t hurt either. And okay, yes, you could probably draw tons of women too. But NOT —” she added, “unless you dress up a little more. A winged eyeliner look with your green eyes would look unbelievably HOT. Tell her Miles.” She elbowed him in the ribs.

Zoe burst out laughing at the reproachful look on his face which had less to do with pain and more to do with the fact that the last thing Miles wanted was to be dragged into a conversation related to makeup. She was just about to test this notion by asking him which shade of eyeshadow he thought would suit her best – just to see his bewildered reaction – when suddenly, a tall shadow fell over their table, blocking the sunlight filtering in from the cafeteria windows.

Oh boy, Zoe thought; her smile dropping away instantly, replaced by a more guarded expression. That wasn’t just anyone’s shadow. And knowing the person it belonged to, this wasn’t going to end well.

“Black lingerie and platform boots?” drawled a very familiar scathing voice. “Wow Zoe, I had no idea you were so desperate for money that you were willing to be a hooker.”

Zoe stiffened. Now that was a new one.

Biting her lip, she looked up angrily and glared into the cold gray eyes of her ex-best friend, Tasha Montez. Who glared right back, looking not unlike the version Zoe had seen in her dream (though in a million years would Tasha ever actually settle for a lowly waitress job).

Tasha’s new – and typically airheaded – sidekicks; Heather Andrews and Lauren Kingsley were not far behind, having made a quick stop to talk to a couple of jocks sitting with Joshua. Zoe wanted to be charitable and think that they each probably had their own unique personalities beyond being Tasha’s cronies, but every time their paths had crossed, Heather and Lauren had predictably acted like they perpetually shared a single brain cell between them.

“She’s not a hooker, you psycho,” Aliza hissed venomously. She had no patience for Tasha or the way any sort of comment she dropped usually turned into a fully blown rumor. Whether or not it happened to be true.

“Yes, and I don’t recall inviting you to join this conversation,” Miles added, his tone icy.

“And I don’t recall speaking to either one of you two losers,” Tasha sneered, lowering her voice into a faux British accent.

She was literally the only girl in school who spoke to Miles like that. Almost all the others cranked their feminine charms up a notch whenever he was in the immediate vicinity. Because despite being a buzzkill and socially awkward at the best of times, Miles was actually pretty handsome. He really rocked that chiseled jawline and those elegant high cheekbones of his without even trying. It also went without saying that the way his wavy raven hair fell into his deep blue eyes was endlessly attractive too.

Not that Tasha cared. She had never tried to impress Miles like everyone else.

Why should she when she had someone like Joshua as her boyfriend? And thanks to her, everyone – including Joshua himself – knew that Zoe had a massive crush on him.

“Anyway Zoe,” Tasha continued chirpily. “If you’re planning on being a hooker, just tell us where you’ll be doing it so we can have a front row seat to watch you trip and fall on the guy while you try to act sexy.” She flicked back her blond hair and turned to leave, apparently satisfied with her mediocre barb.

“Later klutz,” Lauren made time to hiss as she and Heather took off after their Queen Bee like puppets on a string.

Zoe sighed furiously at their retreating backs. She’d been friends with Tasha since sixth grade, and back then Zoe had been on TV as a well-known cover artist. At eleven years old her perfect singing voice had won her many admirers. Including Tasha.

She’d been drawn to the fame. Because what would look cooler than having the totally hip Zoe Blake as her best friend? But after her dad left, Zoe had left the TV circuit behind and settled for working at Al’s Pizzeria instead. It was closer to home, in case her mom’s mental health took another turn for the worse.

Zoe’s pop star glamor had faded a little after that. But Tasha hadn’t just ditched her though, which Zoe had appreciated very much back then. Their friendship had lasted for a solid five years since sixth grade, till something happened to change it all.

Just three months ago to be accurate.

Joshua Winters had shown up in Trenton.

His full name was Joshua Bell Winters – no doubt named after the ever famous violinist. Clearly his parents were fans of classical music. Which, in a way, was a good thing because ‘Bell’ was actually the name Joshua preferred to go by; instead of Winters. Apparently, he and his dad were not on good terms. And so, to everyone at Trinity High, he became Joshua Bell.

To say he looked good, would have been an understatement. A massive one at that. Almost all the girls (and some of the guys too) instantly fell in love with the godlike creature that had descended upon their school and graced them with his presence. Zoe knew that putting it that way wasn’t even an exaggeration.

He was a junior, just like her and Tasha. And back then, no guy could even hope to compete with him in the looks department. To put it plainly, he was HOT. He was over six feet of walking, talking drop dead gorgeousness; doubly armed with calm, sea green eyes and a killer smile. It’d taken Zoe only one conversation with him to discover that she was in no way immune to his charms.

Unsurprisingly enough, neither was Tasha.

Things started going downhill for their friendship after that. Mostly because, for reasons that were beyond her, Joshua actually liked Zoe more than Tasha. And not just in a platonic way either. He always paid a lot more attention to her whenever they hung out, visibly flirting with her more. And a few times, he had even – though not very successfully given that Tasha had always been around – tried to slip away alone with her. Of course, all this attention had thrilled Zoe, but there was a catch.

Wasn’t there always a catch?

If their roles had been reversed and if it had been Tasha, Joshua had liked from the start, it wouldn’t have been a problem. Zoe would have backed off like a good friend.

But it wasn’t Tasha.

And for Zoe’s ex best friend, everything had to be about her. Even if it meant humiliating Zoe in front of everyone. Joshua included.

Their rocky friendship had promptly ended on lunch one day in the cafeteria when Zoe found herself tripping over someone’s foot as she was making her way over to her usual spot next to Tasha. Her tray had flown straight out of her hands; directly at Tasha who was, as usual, trying to drape herself over Joshua.

The reaction that followed had been one of immediate silence. No one in the room made a sound as Zoe picked herself up and looked at her best friend, whose golden head was now dripping with mashed potatoes. Her beautiful blue dress – carefully picked that morning with the sole purpose of impressing Joshua – was splattered with salad and pizza sauce. And to make things about ten times worse, Zoe’s can of Diet Coke (which had also taken a flying lesson) landed pretty hard at Tasha’s feet and exploded there, spraying foamy liquid all over her expensive shoes and up her legs.

Tasha was definitely a mess. And she was pretty mad about it as Zoe soon found out.

“Oh my God! You bitch!" she screamed shrilly. “You did this on purpose! I know you did.” She shot Zoe a glare that made her flinch.

“Tasha chill, we all saw it was an accident,” Joshua said evenly, attempting to calm her down. Tasha turned to him; her face was a mask of desperation. “It wasn’t an accident Josh,” she said tearfully. “She meant for this to happen. She’s had this massive crush on you ever since you came here. She’s got it so bad that she didn’t want me even looking at you. She probably saw us talking and couldn’t bear it so she came over here and pretended to fall just so she could throw that tray at m-me.” Tasha’s voice broke on the last word.

Zoe had felt genuinely bad for her. She had wanted to go over to her best friend and comfort her; tell her that it had been an accident and that she shouldn’t have taken it so personally.

But then Tasha raised her head and Zoe saw that she wasn’t really crying at all. Her eyes were filled with vicious glee and triumph at what she had managed to accomplish. The whole scene was to her advantage. She could only be the victim here while Zoe was the good-for-nothing jealous best friend who had made her that way.

It didn’t take her long to figure out that Tasha had been waiting for an opportunity like this to end their friendship for weeks now. And Zoe had just presented it to her on a silver platter.

Literally.

Well maybe not quite so literally because the tray had been aluminum and not silver, thought Zoe; reincarnating that moment for probably the millionth time in two months as Tasha, Heather and Lauren walked away.

“Just ignore them Zoe,” Aliza said glaring at their retreating backs. “They’re so not worth it.”

Zoe didn’t say anything. This wasn’t the first time Tasha had made her feel both angry and terrified at the same time. So it wasn’t like she was surprised or anything. That didn’t mean it was okay for her to keep doing it though. Especially since all Zoe wanted to do was forget about that fall and move on. But clearly Tasha had other ideas.

“How do you expect her to ignore them,” Miles asked, glancing worriedly at Zoe, “when they could possibly start spreading a rumor about Zoe being a prostitute?”

Aliza shot Miles a glare that clearly said, ′Not helping.′

“Well what do you want me to say?” he protested, flicking back a lock of his wavy black hair, “You were the one talking about her wearing underwear and platform boots.”

“I was joking. And besides, you backed that idea up,” Aliza shot back.

“GUYS!” Zoe exclaimed, unable to take the bickering any longer. “Can we please just – stop fighting? Aliza, I’m seriously not mad at you for cracking an innocent joke. It’s not your fault she was eavesdropping on us, and Miles—” she faltered a little when he looked up questioningly at her, clearly wondering what he’d done wrong. “I ... well, I think it’s really sweet of you to be indignant on behalf of my reputation, but there is no way she’s going to spread that rumor around. No one’s high enough to believe it. I mean, have you guys looked at me? I’m so not ... well you know – hooker material," she finished, uncomfortably scratching the back of her neck, feeling awkward and self-conscious at once.

Aliza grinned a little at that, but Zoe noticed Miles scrutinizing her with a thoughtful expression. She squirmed under his blue-eyed gaze, feeling suddenly very flushed. It was strange to have her body language analyzed by Miles at the best of times, but it felt downright nerve wracking when he did it while she was making a conscious effort to hide how she actually felt. Like she was doing right now.

But before he could announce the results of his silent observation, the bell rang, and Zoe could breathe easier again. She didn’t really feel like talking about what had just happened, so the fact that they all had separate classes after lunch was a huge relief.

Still, she was extremely grateful for the way they’d stood up against Tasha for her, so for that alone, Zoe managed to bid her friends goodbye with an almost cheery, “Well see you guys in the afternoon,” before trudging off to her Psych class.