A Modern Beauty: Part One

CHAPTER TWO

Throughout the day, Clara couldn’t stop thinking about what happed in gym, and was so out of it in her last period that the substitute gave her detention for that Friday. When she protested, the cranky old sub said, “And you’ll keep getting it for every Friday afterwards until you do your work.”

But no matter how grumpy this might have made her, all Clara could do was keep remembering, over and over again, those fleeting moments in the doorway. How Clara had felt frozen in place, glued by some unknown force to stare into those eyes, until after an eternity, Kenzie smiled again and went back to captivating her adoring fans with a simple wave. But most of all, Clara remembered the searing, seemingly irrational hatred that directly followed a spark of unbelief.  

Finally, while Clara was lost in her thoughts, she packed her backpack with the stuff from her locker and had only just left the gate to walk home when she heard panting behind her and somebody called, “Clara!”

“What?” She started to growl as she spun around, but then stopped when she saw who it was. Oops.

“Why,” Abigail said just as she reached her friend, “did you leave without me after we had decided on this a whole week ago?”

Clara immediately felt guilty for being such a sulk, and especially because of the way she had acted just a few moments ago. “I…”

Abigail looked at her expectantly. “Yes?”

“Forgot.” Clara muttered.

“Yup.” Abigail began to walk ahead, and called back over her shoulder, “I thought you were the one who wanted help unpacking those boxes!”

Clara sighed, and began to walk a few paces behind. If I keep this up, I really will be dead before the week is over.

***

Abigail flopped down on Clara’s bed, and stared up at the heavy purple drapes. She glance around the room, sat up, and inspected Clara’s bed more closely. She knit her eyebrows together. “Clara?” She asked as she leaned in and ran her fingers softly over the intricate designs on the dark wooden post. “Why is your bed so much fancier than the rest of your room?”

Clara pulled herself out of digging through a box and shook her hair out of her face. Then she looked toward her friend. “Huh?”

“Your bed,” she stated a second time, “Is a whole lot fancier than the rest of you room. The majority of the house, even. Why?”

Abigail watched Clara carefully as she too, looked around the room, scrunched her eyebrows, and considered the question as if for the first time. “Huh.” She said again, obviously just as confused as Abigail, “I don’t know. It came with the house. I guess,” she paused, “I guess my mother just thought I would like it.”

“Mm.” replied Abigail to his answer, and returned to the bed frame. In a billionaire’s mansion, it might not look out of place. But here, in the Analise’s new house… It made Abigail wonder why Clara hadn’t noticed it before.

The bed was a tall four-poster, with large, voluminous purple velvet curtains. The posts were intricately carved into soft swirling designs, and in some places Abigail could have sworn that she saw people. The entire bed frame was made of a dark mahogany, and the feet were sculpted to look like ancient tree roots, burrowing into the ground. The vast mattress was dominated with plush blankets and soft furs. Overall, it looked like something taken straight from a movie, but somehow managed to give off an air not that it should be laughed at, but one of dominion and respect.

For a bed? Abigail thought when she realized what she had just been thinking, Are you going crazy, Abigail? But no matter what she told herself, she could almost feel the bed calling to her, drawing her in. Slowly, Abigail could feel her arms that held her up weakening, and the only thing she could get through her foggy mind was, just a few minutes…