Strawberries & Cigarettes

Chapter Ten

            “When was the last time you ate?”

            Moet knew this question was coming the moment they left the restaurant. Quinn wasn’t stupid, contrary to his current GPA and what most people judged by his appearance. Due to her preparation for the statement before, she quickly answers, “This morning. I had a big breakfast.” It was a lie. Moet found that the ease with which the tiny white lie rolled off her tongue was a bit frightening.

            “Huh.” Quinn didn’t believe her. She knew it immediately. However, his personality prevented him from outright saying so in case he was wrong. He never accused someone of doing something they weren’t guilty for. God knows, he’s been deprived of that all his life. It made Moet feel that much worse about her dishonesty to him.

            The rest of the ride passed in a tense, uncomfortable silence.

            She was driving him crazy. The concept of it was just insane. His usually busy mind was filled with thoughts of the pale-haired girl rather than the standard mish-mash of the abstract subjects of Chemistry or last night’s Calculus AP homework which was ridiculously easy to say the least. It was extremely odd, that he was so infatuated with the girl. And in such a short time too. He’d barely known her for two months, yet, couldn’t wait to speak with her at lunch.

            Thus, he proceeded to jiggle his leg impatiently during his fourth-period as he watched the clock like a damned puppy waiting for its master to come home. When the bell rings, he immediately stands up from his seat and makes for the door, despite the teacher’s protests. He wouldn’t get in trouble for it; the staff knew exactly how Leighton Bakker could drive them out of their own jobs what with his mental capabilities.

            However, when he arrives at the shady oak tree where Moet liked to have her meagerly-portioned lunches, he finds that she isn’t there. How odd, Leighton thinks. Over the past few days, he’s observed that Moet favored routines a great deal… maybe a bit too much. A slight trickle of disappointment tickles his thoughts. Feeling a bit dejected, he starts walking away when he sees a slim girl with hair the color of corn silk standing in the parking lot next to a tall, brooding figure. As the two figures walk closer towards the school gates, he sees that it is indeed Moet and the tall, brooding figure is… Quinn Castor. That was a surprise. Leighton watches as the two separate and head different ways. Halfway towards Leighton, Moet lifts her head up and notices him. She smiles.

            And by some unseen force, Leighton feels his own lips curl back in a smile in response. By god, what was happening to him? It felt so disconcerting…

            The thin girl was right in front of his face by now.

            “Hi,” she breathes, her smile still in place. She smelled warm and sweet. Leighton didn’t quite know how to describe it. It’d be similar to the feeling he got when reading his well-worn copy of Catcher in the Rye in his backyard on a late Saturday morning. If you could smell a feeling, of course.

            Oh, wait, he forgot to answer her.

            “Hello,” he replies smoother than he thought he would’ve. His insides felt all… rickety. He didn’t know if it felt good or bad.

Was she blushing? Shoot, she probably was. Moet’s gaze flickers down to her hands for a moment and she clasps them together for distraction. Twiddling her thumb, she gazes up shyly to find those slate gray eyes still focused on her. Her cheeks burn bright red in response.

            “You look nice today,” Leighton remarks. Examining her baggy, shapeless sweater and black slim-fitting jeans, she looks back up at him with a quirked eyebrow. A half-smile grows on his face and he asks, “What?”