Clockwork Daisy

Chapter 11

Ellie 

Chapter 11

I grasped the thin blue lunch tray in my hands. Beth stood next to me, melting into her sweater. Her eyes darted around the crowded lunch line until they found me. Bursting with relief, she pushed her way into the space behind me, ignoring the buzz of complaints surrounding her. I glanced down to her tray; empty. 

"Don't take as much food as you did yesterday." I said quietly, encouraging. "That way you won't feel as much guilt over what you've eaten, and then you won't have to..." I motioned with my nose to the direction of the bathrooms. A pale Beth nodded and grabbed a strawberry banana yogurt cup. When I reached for an orange she grabbed an apple. Then, just as we were about to exit, she snatched a small bag of salty tortilla chips with a childish giggle. I followed her over to our table.

We sat down simultaneously and Beth immediately began peeling the cover off of her yogurt. She lifted her plastic spoon, and then paused. "What were you and Deacon Knight talking about in library today?"

I stuffed an elbow noodle into my mouth and swallowed, feeling the grainy after taste linger on my taste buds. "I asked him if he'd ever slid down a railing." The moment the words tumbled out of my mouth I wanted to smack myself on the forehead. I felt idiotic. 

"Baby, I've got a railing for you to slid down!" One of the round faced jocks at the table cooed the failure of a joke over his pile of chicken salad. The acne ridden quarter back sitting nearest him made his hand available for a high five. 

Beth snarled. "No, you dork. She means a staircase railing, obviously." Even though Beth sounded confident, she still looked to me for clarification.

"Yes a staircase railing." I reassured her as I began to peel the thick skin of my orange. "Unfortunately I never got an answer because someone rudely interrupted." I jokingly flicked a small piece of orange peel in Beth's direction.

"Hey!" She exclaimed, dodging the shot. "Sorry for saving you!" 

I cocked my head like a dog. "What do you mean?"

Beth shrugged, reaching for her carton of skim milk. "From my angle, the conversation seemed to be going nowhere fast."

"Oh." I replied, smoothing out my pink cotton skirt. "Where does Deacon usually sit during lunch anyway?" I was quick to change the subject, even if Deacon was still the main point. 

Beth pointed a long manicured nail to the corner. There was a table smashed next to the over sized trophy case bursting with awards that didn't quite date the twenty first century. Occupying the circular table were three people. There was a girl with dark tumbling hair bending some string into a bracelet. There was a boy with a crisp shirt and a fancy watch. Then there was the ever charming Trevor Oakley. A gag rose in my throat just looking at him. These people were Deacon Knight's friends. So where was Deacon? 

A memory from earlier in the day flickered into my mind. I grabbed my tray suddenly, causing half the table to jump. I knew where to find him. "I'm going to run to the library." I announced. 

"Why?" Beth fidgeted with the stem of her apple. 

"Textbooks!" I said quickly. "I need to check out some more textbooks for class." A classic new girl excuse. Everyone shrugged the explanation off, pleased with it. I was relived that they did not recall that every class picked up their textbooks the day before. 

Not wanting to pull my luck any longer, I dashed over to the trash can. As I set down my tray near the dish washing window, I remembered Beth. If I left, that gave her every excuse to sneak into the bathroom. Even though she had eaten so little, I still couldn't take any chances. Then, out of the corner of my eye, as if fate had landed at St. Wisteria High, I noticed a bright yellow caution sign. "Cleaning in session" the fold up sign blared, "Please do not enter." It was perfect. I crept over to the corner, which was also filled with dusty brooms and damp mops, and grabbed the sign before anyone could give me a second look. 

A cast a check over to my table. Beth was deep in conversation with the girl who'd worn braids the day before. She had it in a ponytail today and it fell down her back like the hair of a horse. Since my friend was distracted, I ran in the direction of the girl's bathroom and propped the door open with the sign. Beth wouldn't dare go in the bathroom if a janitor was in there. A rush of pride flooded through my body. I could barely call St. Wisteria home and I was already helping someone. And not just anyone, but a friend. 

The library was about a seven minute's walk from the noisy cafeteria. Walking down the halls during lunch hour was a bit eerie. All of the classroom doors were locked tight, all of the lockers were closed, and there was rarely another person in sight. If you thought on it for too long, it began to feel apocalyptic. Luckily, I reached the heavy library doors before long. I found the room to be actually quite populated with lunch skippers. There were people skimming through the new releases shelves, kids killing time surfing the Internet, and of course the lazy librarians who were cleaning their glasses and pausing to blow their noses every minute. 

I glided over to the sparkling spiral staircase. It led up to a loft which seemed to be carved out of the ceiling and cast in light by a skylight. I took each of the glossy steps carefully. I admired the knots in the wood and ran my hands over the brass railing. I reached the top before I was ready to and was greeted by an assortment of chairs. Some bean bags, leaking their stuffing, few fold up chairs used for meetings and sports games, and even a rocking chair placed so close to the wall that it couldn't possibly rock.

Deacon was in the corner, smashed into a leather recliner. His palms were filled with The Great Gatsby, which he read with an intense face. He didn't look up as I came closer. Eventually I was standing right in front of him, but there was no change. 

"Getting a head start?" I asked. Mr. Bow hadn't even assigned any reading for the novel yet. 

Deacon's head jerked up in surprise, causing his unruly curls to bounce playfully. He coughed slightly when he realized it was me. "Yeah." He mumbled, folding the corner of his page. 

I broke the silence before it could form. "I really enjoyed talking to you outside yesterday, Deacon." When I spoke his name, his eyes lit. I sucked in my lips to help prevent a blush. "Why do I make you so nervous?"

Deacon tossed his book onto the ground. "Because..." He appeared to be racking his brain trying to form a sentence. "Because you're you." 

He looked up at me with those round blue eyes and I swear in that moment I couldn't speak, not even if I tried. After a few gulps and a quick lick of my lips, I stuck out my hand. "Hi." I said, a grin forming on my face. "I'm Ellen Wells, but you can call me Ellie."

Deacon looked at my hand a moment as it hung in mid air. I feared he would reject me; sink back into that leather recliner and never resurface. But soon enough, his hand was tangled in mine and we were shaking them like business partners. "Hi Ellie. I'm Deacon Knight." 

We released our grip and our hands fell back to our sides. I nodded my head in approval. "It's great to finally meet you."