After Forever Ends (4 page)

“Medium.”

“Then it wasn’t Jayne Fitzpatrick. Jayne Fitzpatrick and Jennifer Eisenberg are the prefects for this floor this semester. They, I, and Nicole Bell, but Nicole is a blonde. Jayne probably wouldn’t have said it anyway. Did the girl threaten you at all? “

“Not so much. I think maybe she was trying. She was very unpleasant.“

“It was Jennifer Eisenberg,” Sandy said matter of fact, “Don’t mind the Dickinson twins. Watch out for Jennifer Eisenberg.”

“All right.” I yanked my larger suitcase off the floor and swung it on to the bed, glad to hear that those boys were all right. “Can I have this dressing table?”

Sandra nodded and sat on her bed. She watched me for a long time in silence as I began putting my things away. Suddenly she spoke again, “Maybe you do have to look out for the Dickinson twins. I mean, at least half of them. Alexander can be a right cad. Oliver’s all right, though.”

“He’s all right then?” I asked a little too eagerly.

She smiled as if she’d finally decided she liked me, “Yeah,” She nodded, “He’s brilliant. You don’t need to avoid him at all.”

That was the best news I’d ever heard, although her warning me about Alexander fell on deaf ears. Alex could be right foul when the mood struck him. However, I was never intimidated by his nastiness the way most people were. In fact, I must admit that if there had never been an Oliver Dickinson, his brother, Alexander, would have run away with my heart and the two of us would most likely have ended our relationship in the fashion of a double murder. This being said and despite our differences, he and I quickly became the closest of friends. Although so much like Oliver in so many facets, Alex was very different in the girlfriend department. You see, Alex changed his girlfriends like he did his pants, where Oliver was loyal almost to a fault. They were a set of dead ringers, though, physically indistinguishable right down to their fingernails, unless you knew the few subtle differences that told them apart. Looking so much alike and having to wear identical school uniforms was very much a sport for the two of them.

“Oliver, Professor Fields sent me to ask you if you have time this afternoon at four to come by her office,” A fourth year boy with short blond hair approached him in the dining hall.

“What are you calling me Oliver for when I’m Alexander?” Ollie scolded, tossing a scrap of bread at the poor boy, “Bloody hell! Don’t bother me! I’m eating!”

“Right! Tell him I’ll be there!” Alex added sharply, “Now piss off!”

They both thought this sort of thing was terribly funny. They pulled it off successfully two years in a row for final exams and once Oliver served a detention for Alexander so Alex could slip out of school early on a Friday and go see Julian Cope in concert in London with Merlyn. They could even occasionally pull it over on their own parents, but never on Headmistress Pennyweather, who knew one from the other at a glance from clear across the dining hall.

“That is thirty minutes detention cleaning dishes, Mister Alexander Dickinson, for throwing food! If you would like to win Miss Sherwood’s affection, there are better ways! Like complimenting her lovely smile or simply saying hello!” She rather sang her way between the tables, “Mister Oliver Dickinson, I suggest you put away that gum before I see you chewing it. Having it is no crime, but chewing it in any hall beside your dormitory is fifteen minutes detention!” She glanced in my direction with a smile, “Miss Cotton, so nice to see you this morning! Are you rested and ready for the Academic competition this afternoon?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Good, good! We’re apt to win with you in!”

“Thank you, Ma’am, I’ll do my best.”

“I’m sure you will!” She walked away calling, “Misters Pierce and Crosby, hats off in the school buildings!”

“She’s a nightmare,” Alex groaned when Headmistress was out of earshot. “I wish she’d get on her broom and crash into the side of a bus.”

“I think she’s a daisy,” Oliver grinned, popping his gum into his pocket. “I think she’s brilliant.”

“I know you do. You fancy that old harpy. One day I’m going to do something right awful in front of her and make her think it’s you.” Alex threatened as he lifted his spoon.

“Like what?”

“Like going up and pissing into one of those great urns with the shrubs that sit inside her office. Right in front of her, too.” His eyes were narrow. “Like when she’s having tea with parents or something. Just whip it out and…” He bit his bottom lip, imitating the motion.

“It’ll never work,” Oliver returned with little interest, going back to his cereal, “She knows full well you’re the bad egg.”

Their scam would have never worked on me, either. I could tell them apart from minute one. I could tell which one was which just by the way Oliver looked at me. It was the way he told me he loved me all the time, with those beautiful, shiny, dark eyes, right from the moment we met.

There was never a question as to Oliver and me being together. I don’t think anyone had any question about us; we were just as natural as the sky and earth. Immediately we met between classes. He always seemed to know where I’d be. If I was in the library and he had a moment, there he’d appear, whispering to me between the shelves. If I were coming out of a classroom and he was in the same hall, he’d wait for me in the corridor and walk with me. He saved me a seat beside him at meal tables and he always brought me back to the entrance of my hall of residence at curfew. “Just Silvia Cotton,” became, “My Sil” within a month. Mostly we hung out on the quad and in the common room with our friends, but we often went walking by the lake alone.

I loved those long walks we’d take. Those times are extraordinary, the ones when you first get together with someone special and spend all your time getting to know each other. Oliver was the most outgoing person I’d ever met. He was light hearted and funny, something that was new to me in a male. The only real encounter I’d had with any man had been my father, whose personality was something like a flannel; constant and reliable, but not the most stimulating companionship. Everyone at Bennington seemed to be fond of Oliver and he greeted them all with the same warmth. He had a knack for being sensitive, but just when you thought he was a complete pushover, he’d come out swinging like any other lad. Neither Oliver nor Alexander were small boys. They were both imposing figures, standing at least a head taller than the next tallest teenager. They sported broad shoulders and muscular physiques and had large hands. Both of them were fearsome on the rugby pitch as well, so much so that opposing players occasionally hesitated to approach them and once or twice actually ran away. I would have thought that rugby would have been Alexander’s game as he was usually the more aggressive of the two, but Oliver was an animal on the pitch. His transformation into brutality amazed me because, in general, he was just such so gentle.

The first time I encountered my sweet Oliver Dickinson being really naughty was three weeks into my stay at Bennington. I was walking down the corridor in the East wing during my free period when I saw him and Alexander huddled together in a corner.

“Hi, Ollie!” I said brightly, coming up from behind, “Hi, Alex!”

“Shush!” He and Alexander said simultaneously. Oliver didn’t turn to face me. He was obviously too busy with something, but Alex spun and put his finger against my lips.

“Sorry,” I whispered as he removed it. I could see Oliver now since Alex had shifted. He had an Eppendorf tube in his hand and was frantically packing something into it.

“What are you doing?”

“Shush, Silvia!” This time he turned and they both waved a hand at the floor to prove they meant it.

I stood there in silent compliance with no idea of what they were up to. I was still quite dumb to them and their evil ways at that point.

“Is it ready?” Alex breathed.

“Yeah. Is he coming?” Oliver whispered, pinching the top on to the vial. “Is he on time?”

Alex looked over his shoulder and sniggered, “He’s by the end of the way, he is.”

Both of them stood up and straightened their jackets. Oliver looked at me and winked, then took two steps forward and hailed another student, “McGuigan!” He said quite loudly, “You need my notes for laboratory.”

Josh McGuigan stopped about ten feet away and eyed the twins suspiciously.

“Come on!” Alex said curtly. “We’ve been waiting for you! You want to make us late?”

I knew Josh from my philosophy class. He was a nice boy, but he had a terrible case of psoriasis that left him with open sores on his hands and neck, and probably other areas of his body as well that he kept covered at all times. I recognized his ailment immediately because my father suffered from the affliction from time to time. I knew that it wasn’t contagious, only ugly and painful to its bearer. Most people didn’t know that, though, or they were at least insensitive enough to avoid or tease poor Josh.

I’d come upon Oliver having a chat with Josh one afternoon in the courtyard. When Josh left Oliver mentioned that he felt badly for the boy. “I like him,” He said as he took my hand and led me down the hall, “We’re mates,” He paused, “Well, sort of like. He’s good at taking a joke, mind. I took him on as my lab partner second year without asking him to be. I’d watched him always left standing alone, being the last one chosen, so I just walked over and chucked my books on the table and told him to shove over.” Oliver looked at the ceiling as he continued, “I didn’t see Old Josh’s dorm mate walking around with big, nasty scabs all over him so I figured it was safe to exchange a couple of test tubes with the bloke. I hate that, you know? When people are rubbish to somebody who's done nothing to harm anybody.”

I nodded. I hated that, too. What a good heart Oliver Dickinson had. His kindness often went unnoticed, but it never failed.

Josh didn’t say a word in response to either of them the morning they stopped him in the corridor. Instead, he sighed and came forward, reaching out his hand to take the notes from Oliver. Just as he was about to collect them, however, Alexander smacked Oliver’s hand at the wrist with such force that the papers scattered across the ground.

“You dickhead!” Oliver gave his brother a shove, “Why’d you do that?”

I wondered the same thing. It seemed such a senseless act, but within seconds it was all too obvious why he’d done it. As Josh bent down to pick up the papers, Oliver pretended to help him, As he leaned down, he dropped the vial into Josh’s pocket. Josh didn’t notice.

“Ah, who cares?” Alex demanded, stealing my arm, “I’m taking your Sil and we’re going. You two bore us shitless.”

I allowed him to haul me off. “What was that about?” I asked as he dragged me around a corner and sat with me on one of the benches outside along the corridor. “That was rude, Alex!”

“Just wait,” He grinned. He looked just exactly like Oliver when he smiled. Breathtaking, really, how closely the two of them resembled the other.

“What did you two do to poor Josh? I thought you three were friends!”

“Don’t worry about it,” Alex said quietly, giving my shoulder a playful squeeze, “It’s a game! Josh knows it! He gives it right back!”

Oliver appeared around the bend and sat on the other side of me. Immediately, those two began to snigger, “About fifteen seconds, I’d reckon,” Ollie said, turning to peer back at the direction he had come. “I can hear the girl’s football team coming up the corridor…”

“What’s going—“ I began to ask the question, but was never able to finish before there was a loud bang that sounded something like a gun shot. Seconds later, a flock of startled girls in their football uniforms ran squealing around the wall past us out on to the quad. About ten feet behind them followed Josh McGuigan, his mouth open in a silent scream, moving at full speed. The dishevelled notes were still clutched in his hand.

“What the hell was that?” Professor Rankin, the physical education instructor, jogged into the quad to gather her distressed team. “Is everyone all right? Is everyone here? Calm down, Ladies!” She shouted, and then paused, “Joshua McGuigan? What on Earth are you doing out here with the girls? Go on! Go to class! Clear off or I’ll give you detention!”

Oliver and Alexander howled with laughter.

Josh’s face was deep red as he walked off the quad. He looked at the twins, shook a fist at them, and began to chuckle.

The boys doubled up.

I didn’t need to ask what they’d done. I knew Oliver had packed that test tube with dry ice. Dry ice packed tightly enough in an Eppendorf tube will explode. It shouldn’t have hurt Josh, not inside his pocket, but it certainly went off with a bang that was amplified between the stone walls of the corridor. Timing it so it happened as the girl’s football team was leaving the dressing room was just a stroke of genius.

“You are evil!” I told Ollie, giggling along with the two of them.

“Yes, but you love it!” He swore and patted my knee just as Madame Pennyweather rounded the corner. She stood in her black dress with her pointed shoes planted firmly on the concrete and gave the three of us such a stern look that we immediately jumped to our feet. I thought she was deciding on a reprimand, but instead she just glared at us. She shook her head and disappeared back into the wing.

“Wow,” Oliver muttered, “She let us go! You’re our lucky charm, Silvia!”

“Damn straight,” Alex added, “Can I rub your bum for luck?”

Oliver punched him in the shoulder. Hard.

That night, Oliver and I decided to have a stroll together after supper. It was quite cold, unseasonably so, and in a hurry to have him all to myself I had not worn anything other than my uniform jumper for extra warmth. I had my arms crossed tightly in front of me, shivering as we walked along. Oliver was chattering on about an out of control rugby match he was involved in once when he stopped and turned, “Cold, Sil?”

I nodded, allowing my teeth to click together, “I didn’t think it was this chilly!”

He pulled off his uniform jacket and put it around my shoulders. “Put this on. Better?”

“Oh, yes.” I could feel the warmth from his body inside it. I slid my arms into the sleeves and stretched my fingers to see if I could poke them out. I couldn’t. When he wasn’t looking I took a second to turn my head and sniff his collar. It smelled like soap mixed with the freshness of the earth after a good rain, with just a hint of burned wood. I closed my eyes and smiled. The scent of him made me cheerful. It was the essence of Oliver and a fragrance I would smell for many years to come; only I didn’t know it then. All I knew at that moment was that he was fantastic and smelled wonderful and I was in his school coat and that all things in the universe seemed correct and proper.