Amaranthine

Chapter Eight

© Copyright 2011
All work is property of Leah Crichton, any duplication or reproduction of all or part of the work without explicit permission by the author is illegal.

Prestidigitation: (pres-teh-digi-tay-shun)

 Performance of or skill in performing magic or conjuring tricks withthe hands; sleight of hand

a show of skill or deceitful cleverness

 

We had a student assembly that morning, so I wasn’t forced to say goodbye to him. I was strangely comfortable around him, a fact that made no sense because he made me all queasy inside and my body was in a constant state of flutter whenever he was near. This was only the second day I knew him.  It had taken me about thirty seconds to develop my hopeless crush, and thirty six hours so far in thirty-second intervals amounted to four thousand three hundred and twenty thirty-second intervals to obsess. 

I pushed back against the nagging little voice inside my head that continued to question his motives. Why I had to be such a critic, I didn’t know. Had Chloe just said he was particular about his choice of friends in order to bother me?  If it was true, then why me? I mean, I liked me. I was funny and smart, but why? Was it the crutches? The scar? Did he have a knight-in-shining-armor complex? Was the name game holding his interest?

The lingering doubt was hard to shake, but by mid-morning I'd talked myself into simply enjoying his interest. We sat down in the bleachers and he whispered, “So, Santana, today’s Tuesday. No torture session, right? Can I take you out?”

I hadn't forgotten his offer the day before. He had wanted to show me around the city, yet ended up witness to the unspeakable. I smiled. “I think that can be arranged. Santana is far too cool. My parents could never come up with that.”  

“Santana would be cute.”

Chloe and her sidekick Tyler came in and sat in front of us. Why the hell couldn't she sit somewhere else?  It was like walking up to a bee’s nest and poking the hive. Stupid. Her eyes were sharp as daggers, just like the day before. She was no doubt wishing I'd go back wherever I came from, but her bitch level was wearing on my nerves so, in mid-stare, I beamed the most sickeningly sweet smile I could muster and waved. Her nastiest glare didn’t even touch the ones I was capable of dishing out, but it was more entertaining this way. Kill them with kindness.

The remainder of the day dragged. It felt like every teacher spoke in slow motion to keep up with the painstakingly slow clock. To make matters worse, I shared only two classes with Orion while Chloe and I shared four. In third period I handed her the pen she dropped and she deflated. Being nasty was exhausting. I knew this from personal experience.

At lunch I called Luke to tell him I’d find my own way home. He was surprised by my ability to retain friends longer than a day. Such a vote of confidence.

When the dismissal bell rang I sauntered to the parking lot, scanning it for his Audi. His hands were crammed into his pockets and he stood beside his car looking like a damned billboard. All he needed was a catchy slogan like: Indecently hot. Will burn.

I slid my bag off of my shoulder and held it out to him. He took it and wedged it beside the passenger seat and I settled in. As we pulled out into traffic, I noticed Orion’s car was on the receiving end of a great deal of open mouthed stares. The traffic was so congested I had loads of time to absorb it all: Restaurants, clothing stores, music stores, bars, everything a person could want or imagine.