(Spin-off of Imaginary, more so specifically it's second book, Severity)
Cleo Vexer, a problematic teenage girl, is the sensation of your average pessimist and mediocre criminal. Still having to survive the rest of her senior year bitter and lonely...
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I return to The Grey Park Bench on Wednesday afternoon after picking up a small box of donuts and pastries for me and Silenced.
As I rounded the office corner through the side door, the boy confusedly staring holes into the sign-up sheet caught my eye.
"Caslon," I called. "Must've found me for the second time now."
I plop the box on the office table, plucking out a plain croissant with a napkin.
I look at Silenced. "I've got this one, Sil, he's a newbie." She nods.
I wave my hand at Caslon to gesture him to follow, biting into my croissant.
He doesn't get the gist.
"Come on, Cassie." I teased. "I don't have all day. You're soaking up my client hours."
I walked through the door with the red sign as he starts to trail behind me. I then walk through my door with the green paint slash on the bottom right corner, turning over the sign to read "Patient In Session."
Caslon observes the room, the color emerald green threaded through my workspace.
"Make yourself comfy." I tilted my head towards the chair before pushing the satin green curtain to one side of the room. As I did so, I shoved what was left of my croissant into my mouth and threw away the napkin.
Caslon hesitantly followed instruction.
"Now I personally love having special visitors, but you're costing me clientele, Allway." I said as I moved the cheap plastic table to fill the gap between our chairs. "But for the time being, let's play some cards."
I took the deck of cards I always keep on the table and pull the stack through the plastic packaging.
I sat down and started dealing cards in half. "Ever heard of a game called Spit?" I ask. "Also known as Slam or Speed," I added.
He nods in recognition.
"Good," I push him half the deck and we start setting up the cards into five small stacks and placing two individual cards in the middle of the table.
"Think you'll be able to manage light conversation while playing against my competitive nature, Caslon?" I teased as we started flipping the top cards of each pile.
"Challenge accepted." He smirks.
"Three," I started.
"Two," His grin widens.
"One," We said in unison, breaking eye contact to rapidly pair cards in the middle.
"So how'd you find my work?" I asked placing the Ace of Spades overtop a King of Diamonds.
Caslon maintains focus; the feeling of simple adrenaline in my heart strikes like lightning. "Overheard you and your friend the other day." He answers while placing down two cards before me. "What's up with you and the color green?"
I'm able to get three cards to the middle piles in a row before he puts down any. "It's my signature color, I suppose." I shrug in the process. "You have a favorite color?"
"Does that matter?" He counters.
I nod, still keeping my eyes on the table in concentration. "To me it does."
"It's lilac." Caslon responds.
We go at the game in a frantic speed for another lingering minute.
"Hey Caslon," I start. "Do cows have zebra stripes?"
He looks up at me for the first time in the game. "What?"
In victory, I put down the last card of my stack and place my hand on the smallest pile.
I smile widely at him. "I win round one." I watch his facial expression morph as he connects what just happened like puzzle pieces. "Would you like to play another?"
