The Chain (A Catherine Diary) - Stamfield. Complete

Chapter 15

15

'Okay, with a lack of a name, I hope you don't mind me calling you Nefertiti', he paused waiting to see her reaction. It had it's desired effect and I knew why. After a month of knowing Carla and probably being the first person in college to actually like her sense of humor, I had asked her about the pendant she always wore, a golden female head. She stated that it used to be her mother's and as the oldest daughter her mother had given it to her, with the expectation that she would later in life pass it on to her oldest daughter. It had been the most expensive thing her mother had owned, Carla's grandmother had passed it to her mother, after being bought it on her honeymoon in Egypt. It was a golden portrait of Nefertiti, when I asked her if that was Ramesses wife, she almost jumped on me, stating that everyone thought that, but it was the wife of some Pharaoh called Akhenaten, whom I'd never heard of. That she was reputedly the most beautiful black woman in history. It was plainly obvious that Jack knew who it was and the significance it had to Carla.

When Carla didn't say anything, Jack continued, 'if it's alright with you I'd like to make my proposition to Catherine alone'.

I could see Carla was on the verge of nodding her agreement, I had to step in. I swallowed my insecurities and took a large step up behind Carla, wrapped my arm around her waist and said to Jake, 'no, whatever you have to say you can say to my friends too'.

This didn't seem to deter or fluster him, instead his smile widened and he looked at me like a long lost friend. I don't know why, but it occurred to me how perfect his teeth were, he showed no signs of fillings and they were white and perfectly aligned.

I shook my vision away from his teeth, although one thing my mum would say about a boy with good teeth, was a boy who took pride in himself would therefore by proud of being with you. There was some logic in this, however, I always figured that it would be equally true that someone who took too much pride in themselves, didn't have enough time for you.

'So what's your proposition?', I asked trying to sound as blunt as I could.

For some reason, maybe for some kind of confirmation, of what he had suggested earlier, that he liked my body, I had expected him to ask to see it again, but he didn't.

'I will allow you to have your bag back and to change in here, on your own, in exchange....', he paused to make it as dramatic as it could be, 'for you allowing me to walk you home alone, afterwards'.