After Clove had fetched him the pencil, she visibly relaxed a little. Mrs Alexopoulos was wandering around and peeking over the shoulders of her students to see if they were writing anything other than inappropriate swear words that would make someone’s grandmother turn ‘round in their grave. When she craned her neck and jumped up in the air to sneak a peek over Cato’s shoulder, she gave them what appeared to be an acceptable chin nod and continued on her rounds. By the time Clove looked back at Cato and what he was doing, he had the paper tucked in his pocket and was smirking at her.
“Don’t flatter yourself, pretty boy.” She spat at him, and he turned and started walking away further down the gallery. With his height and muscle, every normal step he took was equivalent to Clove running with five little steps. She rolled her eyes and trotted after him, being mindful to stay a few feet behind him should he randomly decide to stop and turn around like he did last time.
She was about two feet behind Cato when a group of boys cut her off and one of them swiftly elbowed her, nearly knocking her off of her feet. She skittered on the floor, flailing her arms back and forth like a maniac to keep her balance. She nearly knocked an old man’s dentures out, and after flashing an apologetic smile at him she ran after Cato like a pathetic puppy after her owner.
She had just reached Cato’s elbow when the shoving match began, and after Cato shoved the first boy him and his buddies tried to push forward and join in, Clove instinctively blocked their path, trying to stand as tall as she possibly could.
“Out of our way little girl” one of the m ordered her, and Clove took the initiative to un-button the first few buttons of her jacket and folds the coat open to reveal her snuggly squirreled away knife collection. Their eyes widened and they backed up slowly one at a time, before their leader came running hollering “go, go, go!” From what little blur of a face Clove could see, he was the one that shoved Cato.
Clove pivoted just in time to see the blur of blonde hair about to disappear into a separate office, and she hurried and followed him, sneaking in behind him easily. This was the one advantage of being this short. Clove could probably stand right behind him and if by some supernatural curse he could rotate his head three-hundred and sixty degrees all the way around, he wouldn’t even see her hair.
“What am I doing here?” She repeated, snorting and looking down at her top when Cato’s eyes dropped. She re-did the buttons of her jacket and glared at him.
“You think that dumb ass was there alone?” She answered him.
Clove finished adjusting her jacket and stood in front of the door stubbornly. Not like she could do much should he decide to leave, he could probably pick her up with one hand and throw her to Hong Kong and leave. But she liked to think that he stayed because he believed that she might gauge out one of his eyes with her dagger.
“I’m not done. What the hell was that? It looked like you two had beef or something.” She asked him, crossing her arms and waiting for his reply.
