What Divides Us

Time With Lucas

            “So how was your first week of school?” Jezebel asks me as we walk to our first period class.  Subtly, I attempt to quicken my pace in order to lose her within the dense crowd, but alas to no avail.

            “It was fine,” I mutter in annoyance.

            Her short, sleek ponytail bobs as she strains to match my pace.  “I heard you were art partners with Aiden on the first day,” she nudges my ribcage gently and I suppress a disgusted look.  For some reason, Jezebel gives me an uneasy feeling.  “I also heard that you two got along really well, which kind of pissed of all his fangirls.”

            Aiden’s name makes me slow my pace.  Finally a subject worth discussing.  “What do you know about Aiden?” I try to ask casually.

            For a split second it looked as if she were sneering at me with a heinous glare.  But I’m pretty sure it was a trick of the light or something because when I did a double take, she had her usual absent minded smile.  “Well, he’s a transfer, like you, except you’re a junior and he’s a senior.  He doesn’t really have any friends, he’s not really smart, and he has a lip piercing, but doesn’t wear it all the time.”

            As I expected, she had no more information that Lucas had.  Well, apart from the lip piercing, although that doesn’t seem important, unless it’s doubles as a poisonous dart, but the likelihood of that is slim to none.

            Everyday since the incident with Aiden in art class, I’ve been tense.  He hasn’t been to school since our encounter.  And I should know considering the fact that I’ve scoured every inch of the campus for him.  In my mind, I’ve planned how our next and final encounter will play out: I will play the fearful victim card and then let him think that he has the upper hand; then I shall lead him to a secluded area, in which I will swiftly kill him, dispose of his corpse, and notify the Director.  Swift, deadly, and emotionless: the three things I’m known for.

            “No one really knows that much about him because he keeps to himself.  Pretty stereotypical, hot loner, bad boy attitude.”

            Someone smoothly slides between Jezebel and me.  “Mind if I steal Alex for a second?”  My fingers twitch in anticipation of a swift punch; however, to my relief and disappointment, it’s only Lucas.

            Jezebel smiles knowingly like a Cheshire cat and takes her leave.

            We walk together in silence for a few minutes.  “Hi,” I say dumbly and mentally face palmed.  The casual greeting was a little too late and just made things even more uncomfortable if that’s even possible.

            Lucas chuckles softly and looks everywhere but into my eyes.  His blue eyes shift from side to side, a clear indication of nervousness.  But why was he nervous?  Could Lucas know that someone is after him?  Does he feel like he’s being watched?  I decide to find out.

            “Lucas, are you okay?  You seem kind of…tense,” I ask earnestly, widening my eyes slightly, which expresses innocence.  It pays off to know your body language and how to control it.

            He smiles sheepishly, bearing his pearly whites and tugs his hair nervously.  “I’m fine.  I was just kind of nervous because I wanted to ask you something.”  He pauses.

            I wait for him to continue talking.  He clears his throat.  “I was wondering if you wanted to hang out after school today.  Maybe go get coffee or something?”

Briskly I nod and continue my search for Aiden.

            “Have you read Paradise Lost?  By Milton?” Lucas asks after impatiently pressing the call button repeatedly while we waited to cross the street.  Cars zip past us, but I know better.  While keeping my guard up in case a wave of bullets comes at us, I realize that I have yet to answer the question.

            “Yes, I have.  I read it…uh for an assignment at my old school.”  Not an outright lie.  I have read it, just not for scholarly purposes.  “It’s probably one of my favorite epic poems, aside from the Odyssey.  It was really interesting to compare Milton’s work to the Biblical version of the fall of man.”

            His smile widened by a mile and his eyes lit up.  “It’s one of my favorite epic poems too.  Don’t you just love how Milton started the story in the middle of the action!  I think the term for that is in medias res.  I think it’s in Latin or something.”

            We begin to cross the street once our light changes.  “Yeah.  It really pulled me into the story.  But I really didn’t like how he degraded women.”  I scrunched up my nose.  “Blaming Eve for the fall and whatnot.”

            Lucas pauses for a moment.  “I guess.  But that was just Milton’s interpretation of the fall.”

            I press the issue.  “That’s true but Milton rants on how selfish and conniving Eve was.  He writes that Eve ate of the forbidden fruit and wanted Adam to be brought down to her sinful level and because she didn’t want to be replaced.  Then he writes how Adam sinned with her and ate of the fruit because he loved her and didn’t want her to suffer alone!”

            He laughs loudly and opens the door to the dimly coffee shop.  The smell of coffee grinds and fresh bread pervade my senses.  Blenders hum as we make our way into the short line.

            “Who knows, maybe Milton had a grudge against all women?  Maybe a girl broke his heart and he never fully recovered!” he clutched his heart dramatically. 

            I laughed at his goofy display.  “Quit laughing or you’ll encourage him.  I’ve been listening to you guys talk about books all day.  A real man doesn’t talk about books,” Caleb’s voice droned through my earpiece. 

            A perky brunette with a navy visor smiles at us once we reach the front of the line.  “Hi!  What can I get for you two?”

            “A Vanilla Bean Frappuccino,” he decides.  The brunette looks at me expectantly.

            “Uh I’ll have the same.”

            Lucas pays for our drinks, ignoring my protests to pay for it myself, and we grab a table.  My Frappuccino tastes like heaven as it tantalizes my taste buds.  I moan softly as I slurp up the whipped cream and vanilla goodness.

            “Taste good?” Lucas teases as he takes a sip of his own drink. 

            “Heavenly,” I mumble in between sips.

            His gaze never leaves mine and I feel heat creep into my cheeks.  “I’m really glad you transferred to our school, Alex.”

            “Yeah, me too,” I mumble.

            He rests his large hand on top of mine and for a split second I imagine forget about protecting Lucas and focus on the warmth of his palm.  Who knew that a mere physical touch could make me feel so good?

            “I really mean it.  I feel like you’re the only person who really gets me,” he says sheepishly.  “It’s like I’ve known you my whole life.”

            His kind words touch me slightly.  However, I realize that he doesn’t really mean those things.  He doesn’t even realize that the reason we get along so well is because I’ve read everything about his life.  I’ve designed myself to be the exact person that he needs in his life.  Maybe Milton was right, women are conniving.

            I smile brightly and continue sipping my drink, ignoring the pang of guilt.