The Contract

XI - Miscere

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Trailing behind Amanda, I feared I would randomly smack her over the head with my binder without realizing it. Why? Only because she wouldn't stop babbling on and on about how beautiful she knew she was.

"I never realized it before, but. . . look at all the guys who stare at my ass," she tried a modest giggle, but after that statement, it just made me sick. I ran my fingers up my forehead and through my hair, exhausted out of my mind, and not to mention utterly irritated.

Lure had done it again. He had ruined a perfectly good wish. Either I just wasn't good at this whole making-a-liable-wish thing, or he wasn't a very good wish granter. Or, maybe, that combination together was what ruined my wishes.

How many wishes had I gone through now? Two that didn't count, two that did. My third real wish, whatever it was going to be, would not be altered. I would make sure it was flawless. At least, I'd try. I was determined to make sure that Lure did not jumble it around like a twisted orthodox.

I glanced at Amanda, who was still rambling. ". . . and he looked at me and smiled. It was like, one of those sneaky I'm-checking-you-out smiles. I could just tell. . ."

"Who's that?" I asked in a sigh.

"Tommy Wakechuck," she gave me a pointed look. "You've seen him around. He hangs out with Matt."

"I thought you liked Matt?" I said, puzzled. Don't tell me she liked the whole male population.

"Matt?" Amanda practically spat his name out like it had lingered a bad taste in her mouth, "Oh, please. Katlyn, Matt is so. . . no."

"And why not?" I asked, furrowing my eyebrows. I didn't understand. Why not like the jerk she had gotten so angry at me over? I tried not to glower—she was irritating the stuffing out of me. I wanted to slap her over the head and turn her back into her usual self. Not the stuck up her, not the whiny her, but the normal, cheerful her; the her I had found a friend in.

Did that make sense?

"Well, you know," Amanda shrugged a shoulder indifferently, "I don't mean to sound superior or anything, but. . . I don't know. It's just like. . . he's below me or something."

I tried not to show my surprise.

Hastily, she added, "Not like a Queen and commoner or anything. I just. . . can't explain it." Pausing to think, she pursed her lips, then concluded: "He's a loser."

I withstood the urge to throttle her neck by dragging my fingernails down the front of my shirt.

"So, anyways," Amanda was now back to her usual, cheerful self, for the moment. She giggled, grabbing my arm as if she didn't believe my attention was completely on her. "Want to do something after school?" she asked, hopeful.

"Sure," I agreed, giving a small smile. I hadn't done anything with her for awhile. . . ever since I had met Lure in the café. I looked back at Amanda and blinked when I saw her expression darken. At first I thought she was disappointed that I had agreed to do something with her after school, but then I noticed Matt and Tommy approaching us, and they were who she was focused upon.

Actually, she was only focused on Matt—with a death glare equipped. Matt, however, wasn't paying attention to her. Instead, he was staring at me, almost dumbly. Uncomfortably, I scratched my arm and looked away.

"Tommy," Amanda purred when the two boys reached us. She flirtatiously brushed a hand against his arm and smiled brightly. He returned the smile with a shy one of his own. Tommy was rather shy; he didn't usually say much when there wasn't a reason to. He didn't need to talk much, however, for he was one of Matt's followers, and so Matt talked for him.