Clothed In Light.

Marc [3]

Take my hand and we'll sail away,

through this sea called humanity.

quote me, dudes.

*

Lunch is under cooked noodles and a sauce that smells suspiciously of chicken origin. I'm not thinking as I shovel it in, only focusing across the lunch room my eyes showing a neanderthal amount of intelligence. I'm waiting for the new girl to enter the room. I'm under the impression my blunt attitude towards the 'Carol' situation may have frightened her, but if she joins the C.I.L. girls she deserves the truth. The truth is never something she'll get from them, though.

Syme is sitting beside me a certain amount of anger enveloping us in cold silence - anger towards me specifically, for how I treated the 'cute' new girl. He idealizes people far to often. In his mind he sees them as a great person, exaggerates their redeeming characteristics. At first glance, he sees all the good in them. At second glance, he is disappointed when he realize they do not match the character he thought them in his mind. 

I am more of a realist. I look at people and gather the cold hard facts about; like they have sandy tendrils and blue eyes, or loads or freckles lining their cheekbones - not what type of yogurt they are eating or what type of music they enjoy. I prefer to see things in my own mind, voiced in a poetic manner for me, myself and I to enjoy. Rarely do I share my thoughts. 

"Why are you being so cruel to Tierra?" Syme asks me.

I am gruff in my response, as I turn my gaze back towards him. "She's one of them." I insist. I can feel it - I felt the same thing about Carol. But then again that wasn't the only thing I felt about Carol. 

Syme understands what I'm thinking. "She's different than Carol - she's sweet. If she gets involved with them it'll be our fault - we could stop it. You know what we'd have to do."

Finishing my trodden food, I give Syme my full attention. "We tried before, and failed. Carol's dead now because of us two. Do you really want to put the cute new girl in that situation too?" I add sarcasm on the word "cute". Not that she isn't, I actually find her to be death defying beautiful - like a crisp breath on a fall afternoon - but I feel like admitting it would be a mistake. 

"But...Carol had already joined when we tried with her. Their rule is if the girl has affections beforeshe is a member, then she is prohibited to join. After, she's exiled. That's what happened to Carol - but we can prevent this with Teirra!" Syme is nearly breathless, he is exhilarated by finding a loop hole in the C.I.L.'s rules.

 "No." I tell him firmly. "Don't do it. You're flirting with death."

But he still motions for Tierra to sit with us when she walks in the lunch room. It's a mistake; I'm positive. She wanders to our table, light on her small feet, holding herself like every step she takes is a ballet move. I greet her with a nod of my head and brief look into her eyes, but then busy myself with my History book. 

She sits on the edge of her seat, feet hardly brushing the floor as she listens intently to Syme's stories. He tells her about his family and she laughs; he tells her about his schooling and she laughs; he even tells a story about me and an unwilling laugh still escapes her lips. 

I understand what he's doing; and I almost approve. I can see it's working him, she's starting to fall for him. Some how, this bothers me.