Ten & Levan

14. Fourteen

TEN

"So, are you good friends with Levan Emery, Ms. Cohen?" I blink at Principal Rodgers with a gentle smile.

"Who told you that?" I say, sounding rather amused. He frowns.

"Levan did," he answers, I quickly turn to Levan, who is sitting in the back of the Principal's office with a pale, pale face next to the student counsellor. My jaw drops, Eleven thinks we're friends! I'm cheering on my own team inside my head, with pigtails, pom-poms and an extremely short skirt. Goooo Ten! He gulps. I turn back around.

"Well, It's been only a few days, but we've sure become good friends," I tell the mushy faced Principal, who nods in return. "In fact, we already know each other's color," I add. He frowns at me.

"Um, okay, what do you know about the marks on his face? Where do you think he got them?" Well, I have to admit, Principal Rodgers isn't smooth with asking questions subtly. He's a bitch about them. Once, he asked me why I was wearing a scarf with pandas and bamboo on it. He asked me if they were supposed to symbolize Asia? I wanted to tell him that he's dumb. I just like pandas, everyone does.

But right now, I do not know how to react. I repeat, I do not know!

"The-the bruises?" I ask, turning to look at Levan again. Somehow, he just turned paler. He can qualify for a good-looking ghost right about now.

"Yes," he says. I silently ask Levan what to do. He watches me, his usually pale eyes are dark. Like the sky right before it turns all black. Like the deepest trench would look like. Like him, right now, he's dark blue; a deep azure.

What do I tell them, Levan?

Do I tell them that you lie to me when I ask you?

Or do I tell them that I think you're hurting yourself?

He asks me to lie; well, his eyes do. And they ask me to lie well. So I muster up a wide, toothy smile, flaunting my pearly whites to the principal who watched me with narrowed goggled eyes.

"Well, he walks in his sleep and keeps falling all the time. Such a clod, I tell you. " I shrug as casually as I can. Buy my lie, Rodgers. Buy it now. "That's all I know," he nods and stops fiddling with his pen.

"Okay," he says, I grin. Sold.

***

"Quit worrying, I bet they bought it," I tell Levan, munching on potato chips as I sit down next to him in the cafeteria. He has an empty plate in front of him, which he's staring at without a glitch. Doesn't he eat? He looks at me and presses his lips together.

"I bet they didn't," he says, shaking his head.

"Well, I'm betting a burger on it," I say, raising my honey-mayo and cheese burger up into the air so it looks like a UFO, I fly it around in front of Levan's eyes, they narrow at me. I giggle before putting it back onto my plate. "What are you betting?" I ask him.

"Um? Do I have to?" he cringes.

"Oh, yes, you do. We made a bet," I tell him, "make sure it's something un-dearly to you because you're gonna lose it," I warn him. He lets out a single airy laugh, which amuses me more than it amuses him. Then he looks away, chewing on his bottom lip, and I can tell he's really trying to think of something.

"How do we know who wins?" he asks. I roll my eyes and laugh, patting his shoulder.

"If he doesn't buy it, he'll call your father to school today itself. But I'm positive that he won't, because I'm such a natural actor, Levan," I explain.