I spent the rest of the week on tenterhooks waiting to be called into the Principal’s office to be asked about the mess I’d seen in the student council room, but it didn’t happen.
I spied Nathaniel in the hall a few times in between lessons, but every time I tried to speak to him he just gave me a brief smile before effectively ducking me and disappearing in the opposite direction. Castiel was just as elusive too, and at one point I even resorted to asking Iris where he hung out just so I could try and corner him, but he wasn’t in the courtyard when I went to look.
What’s going on, why won’t someone tell me what happened?
By the end of the week I was completely freaking out that I had somehow helped to get Castiel suspended or something and the only thing keeping me from turning into a puddle of goo was my absorption with the story I had been asked to write for the college paper.
A new editor had been chosen from the current staff and I had been lucky enough to get a chance at taking up his former position: all I had to do was write a better story than the dozen other students that had submitted one.
Ken, annoying as he usually was, had actually been pretty helpful with my story idea, and we had been spending quite a bit of time together in the library writing it up. I wasn’t sure it was such a good idea to be encouraging him when I wasn’t interested in going out with him, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell him to get lost and he seemed to be so happy with just being around me that I felt bad for not liking him more than I did.
“I’m sure you’ll get it” He kept telling me as I checked over the finished piece for what felt like the millionth time.
I nodded absently; I couldn’t remember feeling this insecure since I first started college when I was little. Lucky for me Marisol had decided we were going to be best friends the moment that she entered the building holding her mother’s hand and that was that. I chuckled at the memory of this tiny exotic looking little girl striding up to me and sticking her hand out ”Hi I’m Marisol, my mummy’s name is Antonia” I’d stared at her outstretched hand and glanced back at my mother who nodded encouragingly and I hesitantly took hold of Marisol’s hand and smiled back, "I’m Ephie.”
Mare had demanded that I phone her at the end of every week and give her the dish about Sweet Amoris, we would’ve called each other all the time but both sets of parents had put their respective foot down and told us that once a week was more than enough to talk about boys and other frivolous stuff and that during the week we should concentrate on college work.
Naturally Marisol and grumped and played the sick-girl card, but for once her father didn’t budge.
There’s no way Mare’s going to believe that two boys like me.
I didn’t count Ken in the line-up since Marisol knew that he was a geek. Usually I played wing-girl to her as she batted her thickly lashed eyes (enhanced with fake lashes and mascara) and smiled at the group of boys who vied for her attention. A lot of people thought that she was a bit of a good time girl, but I knew the truth; that behind the make-up and the smile was a girl who was terrified of missing out on life and trying to cram as much fun into what little time she had left.
