The Hopeful, The Hardheaded and the Homework

Chapter Six: To Perplex and Please: Olive

Enoch O'Connor was confusing to say the very least. He was an unreadable slate that changed so frequently that just when you thought you were beginning to figure something out, you'd blink and everything would change or completely erase.

Emma said he was part machine, and that seemed absolutely true often. Enoch, for all appearances, was not very in tune with anyone else's emotions or, it seemed, even his own. Yet, very recently, Olive had witnessed that begin to melt away before her eyes, and much to her happy surprise. He was letting her in even the slightest bit and she would take that as it came. He'd even admitted aloud that he "obviously" didn't hate her which, Emma had said, was the equivalent of anyone else's highest compliment and not something to be taken lightly.

"Can I ask something?" Emma said from where she lay across the foot of Fiona's bed, upside down so her hair just brushed the carpet. "Why Enoch?"

Fiona smiled as she sat cross legged on her floral patterned bed and looked between Olive, sitting on a mattress on the floor and Emma. She had convinced her parents, on a last minute idea courtesy of Emma, to let the other two girls over for the night as the Frauenfelds lived closest to the school. In fact, just a few blocks down.

Olive, sitting on her knees on one of the mattresses in her friend's bedroom wrinkled her nose and tried and failed to keep the colour from rising to her cheeks.

"I don't know what you mean." She denied in such a lame way that even she could tell it was painfully unconvincing. The red head picked at a piece of lint on the knee of her soft pink pyjamas and avoided anyone's eyes.

Emma laughed and rolled her brown eyes before pushing herself up and giving Olive a pointed stare that she couldn't escape. "Sure you don't. And you're trying to get through to him so insistently because..."

"Because I'm trying to be nice." Olive defended, "I want to be his friend..."

"Annndd...you think he's cute, annnnd maybe you just like the dark silent type."

"I do no-okay, well..." Olive flushed bright pink. She was a very obvious liar as it was, and could hardly deny that yes, she did think Enoch was a very attractive boy. But what girl wouldn't have? Even the ones who made fun of him and thought it was funny to try and provoke him had to notice that with his dark curls that fell over Enoch's eyes when he didn't tame them, and very prominent cheekbones, Enoch could hardly be considered unfortunate looking.

Did she have a crush on Enoch O'Connor. Yes, she very much did. When he'd pulled her away from the angry Malthus, his fingers had felt cool against her wrist and sent warm butterflies dancing through her stomach. But it wasn't purely because she found him strangely intriguing and very good looking that she wanted to get to know him at all. There was something there, deep down as it might be, that was very genuine about Enoch.

"I think he's interesting and that no one takes the time to try and get to know him." Olive huffed, relenting somewhat while Fiona and Emma both laughed.

"Oh people have tried." Fiona said quietly and Emma nodded to confirm. "But when someone bites every hand like Mr. Barron's dog, it's quite clear they don't want people to get to know them."

"I mean, I'm used to how Enoch acts." Emma added, raising an eyebrow. "Mean edges and all, but come on. He spent hours outside today with everyone. Enoch doesn't see the point in hanging out, and he was quite...well..."
Olive giggled a little when Emma stopped herself from using the word 'happy' referring to Enoch and continued instead, "...content, to stand around and talk to you."

"Oh please..."

xxxXxxx

For once, Olive was the first of their usual group of friends to reach the cafeteria at lunch time. She blew a strand of red hair away from her face as she stepped out of the lunch line with her tray and scanned the room for Emma or Millard. Finding none of them, her green eyes skipped over, and then quickly returned to, a familiar head of dark hair bent over a table in the corner.