Synectica

Chapter 11

          As the days continued, Netta tried again and again to create a telepathic conference connection. Each time, she was only able to say a few words and only very faintly. Every day that she met James felt like a betrayal to Ryan. He didn't think she should be pushing so hard and he would be furious if he found out. The next two or three days that followed her incident with Andrew were awkward. He maintained only minimal communication. As far as he was concerned about her, they had never met. And so she was essentially back to square one. She watched him in quietly in class and avoided eye contact in the cafeteria. She wondered if he would ever even try to get to know Synectica, even if he rejected Netta.

         "Hey, are you even paying attention?" whispered Greg.

         "Hm? Oh, sorry," whispered Netta somewhat flustered. She had been daydreaming...again.

         "What's up with you? You seem off lately," he whispered a little more loudly.

         The librarian that worked the days Mr. Starlington took off gave them both a dirty look and went back to entering books into the computer.

         "I-I don't know,"

         "Is everything okay?" His brow furrowed a bit.

         No, everything was not okay. Andrew hadn't even looked at her in three days and she felt like she was lying to Ryan with every passing lesson with James. But there was no way to tell him any of that. And she couldn't burden him with her issues anyhow. She pulled at the back of her neck uncomfortably before muttering "I'm fine," back.

        Greg kept a closer eye on her for the rest of the study hall and when the last bell rang, they left the library together and he walked her to her locker.

        "Hey," he said when they got to her locker, "I have a soccer game in a little while. Are you coming?"

        "Oh, I didn't know you had a game today and I would love to come but-"

        "Netta, the piano will still be there tomorrow," he said, chuckling as her eyes narrowed at him.

        "Well, it's exactly not that," she said. "Although I really did want to work on a Chopin sonata that I started last week..."

        "Netta,"

        "Hm?" she said, her attention coming back from thinking about the sonata.

        "Please come?" he said smiling. She blushed at how earnest his voice was and even more so when she saw how intently his brown eyes were looking into hers.

        "Fine," she managed to say. She crossed her arms and looked at the floor, annoyed that he had won.

        "Don't make that face," he laughed, poking her in the stomach, "we need a positive spirit out in the stands. Think you can manage that?"

        "Yes, of course I can!" she spat back. Why couldn't she stop blushing? She never felt uncomfortable around Greg. Maybe it was the idea of going to see Andrew play that was upsetting her.

        Greg laughed at how angry she was getting and then frowned when he checked his watch. "I've gotta go, so I'll look for you in the stands."

        "Ok," she called back, finding her voice again.

        She turned back to her locker to organize her things when a pack of freshman came down the hallway. She avoided eye contact and tried to look like she was doing something important in her locker.