Entwined

Where to next?

By seven o’clock the sky had glowered into an inky blue, and I zipped up my coat for warmth. Scarlett and I were on our way from the movie theater to the parking lot, having just watched The Sacrifice. 

“That,” Scarlett said, “was the freakiest movie I have ever seen. As a rule, we are no longer allowed to see anything suggestive of horror.”

“Fine by me.”

“Can you imagine?” She said. “Living your whole life never having a clue that the only reason you’re being kept alive is to be used as a sacrifice?”

We both shuddered.

“And what was up with that altar?” she continued, annoyingly unaware that I would have rather talked about the life cycle of fungi than about the movie. “Why did the bad guy light the stone on fire before tying her down? When I heard her flesh sizzle—”

“Okay!” I practically shouted. “Where to next?”

“And can I just say if a guy ever kisses me like that, I will start dry heaving. Repulsive doesn’t begin to describe what was going on with his mouth. That was makeup, right? I mean, nobody actually has a mouth like that in real life—”

“My review is due by midnight,” I said, cutting across her.

“Oh. Right. To the library, then?” Scarlett unlocked the doors to her 1995 purple Dodge Neon. “You’re being awfully touchy, you know.”

I slid into the passenger seat. “Blame the movie.” 

“I’m not talking about just tonight. I’ve noticed,” she said with a mischievous curve of her mouth, “that you’ve been unusually crabby for a good half hour at the end of bio the past two days.”

“Also easy. Blame Mr. Newbie.”

Scarlett’s eyes flicked to the rearview mirror. She adjusted it for a better look at her teeth. She licked them, giving a practiced smile. “I have to admit, his dark side calls to me. Hey wait, so you’ve been with William.”

I had no desire to admit it, but Scarlett wasn’t alone. I felt drawn to him in a way I’d never felt drawn to anyone. There was a dark magnetism between us. Around him, I felt lured to the edge of danger. At any moment, it felt like he could push me over the edge.

“Hearing you say that makes me want to—” I paused, trying to think of exactly what our attraction to William did make me want to do. Something unpleasant. 

“Admit that He’s good looking.”

I reached to turn on the radio. Of all things, there had to be something better to do than ruin our evening by inviting Will, albeit abstractly, into it. Sitting beside him for one hour every day, five days a week was plenty more than I could take. I wasn’t giving him my evenings, too.

“Well?” Scarlett pressed.

“He could be good looking.”

 “What’s that supposed to mean? Is he the one who mysteriously appears in your dreams? He has those smoky eyes, olive toned skin, and black hair like what you’ve been telling me and matches those sketches you made.”

“It means I can’t get beyond his personality. No amount of beauty could make up for it.”

“Not beauty. He’s … hardedged. Sexy.”

I rolled my eyes.

Scarlett honked and tapped her brake as a car pulled in front of her. “What? You disagree? Is he not what you’ve been waiting for, Mr. Knight of night?”