Honey-Green

Chapter 3: Lunch

Odessa glared at the clock as it ticked. Only thirty seconds and she would have to face the music. If Essex had to wait very long for her, he would have a fit and go looking for her. The private meeting was a gift. He had no problem exposing her to the whole school before , and she wasn't interested in transferring again. The thought of having to listen to his demands was the one thing she never wanted to think about again.

She was ready for the onslaught of evil words, and the harsh looks. They were the only ways the pair knew how to speak to each other. They couldn't co-exist anymore. That much was obvious. As the big hand, finally, hit the 12 - the bell for lunch rung and she sat in her seat for a few moments longer. Making sure she was met in the middle of the hall by the scowling look Essex was sending her way.

With a huff and a frustrated pat from Gunner, Odessa lifted herself from her seat and followed her classmates. She weaved her way to her locker, her hand interlocked with Gunner's as they moved to round the corner. Gunner was worried. He had heard what that guy had said to Odessa and he didn't like how it sounded. He was worried he would do something if she went to meet with him.

"Dessa," He said leaning against the locker next to hers. 

She looked at him and placed a book into her locker. Pulling out a physics and a geography textbook for her next class and homework. She breathed a sigh and continued to ruffle through her things.

"Dessa, how do you know him?" He decided it was the only question he could ask. She could answer it as vaguely as she wanted, or she could tell him everything. It was up to her.

"He was a friend of mine a long time ago." She said and shut her locker. She waited a moment, staring at her locker in thought before she walked off. Gunner glared at the loose ended response. He knew it probably hurt her feelings to think about it, but he wanted to know. He needed to know. He needed to know why she was hurt so badly. If he was going to help her through it, he would need to know.  And he planned on doing just that.

Odessa shuffled her way to the theater hall and pushed the door open with such force it slammed into the wall. Grunting as she practically ran into the seating area. She was ready for this to be over. She threw her bag on one of the seats and walked to the stage. The overhead lights were on and she squinted at the shift in brightness. Adjusting she huffed another sigh.

The piano was on the stage and the loud call of it's keys played in her ears. The black exterior and the tuxedo patterned keys glistened in the spotlight that someone left on. Her fingers felt an ache to play and flit on the hard ivory. She decided to play a short song. She decided on Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata.

The soft sound of the piano filled the room as the slow sensual music ricochet off the walls and back to her. She felt the vibrations through the pedals as she manipulated them. She put her thoughts into the soft music. The sound soothing her.

Mid way through she heard the door open, but she continued to play. She loved the sound too much. Essex stood at the door and listened as she played the melody with a confidence he saw only a few times after their. . . incident. He had loved to hear her play. As the last cords were struck, he took a deep breath and threw his bag down on the chairs. He didn't like the way he was feeling. She was only going to hurt him if he let her in again. And he couldn't do that.

"Are you done?" He breathed, crossing his arms. It was more of a demand than a question. He was hungry, and this didn't need to take longer than it already has. Odessa slumped forward and spun on the bench. The wood creaking under her shift in weight.

She kept quiet and waited for him the speak. He had always needed a moment to gather himself, and she couldn't help the old habit of letting him do so. She had, at one point, spent a large amount of time bringing him out of his shell and this was one of the ways she had done so. Giving him time was now a second nature of sorts. After a pregnant pause, Essex began his angered monologue.

"I. . . want nothing to do with you. If we happen to be partnered on a project, you will send me an e-mail. Don't ever speak to me. I want nothing but for you to leave me be. Just because we happen to have the same schedule, doesn't mean we have to co-exist." With that, he turned to walk off. She huffed and a tear began to form in her eye.

"You know. . . I didn't do it." She whispered. The sound seemed to echo off the walls of the theater the same way the sound from the piano had. 

"It wasn't what you think it was. I would never. . . " Her sentence left her as the horrid memories from the night that ended her relationship with the boy before her played through her head. She was cemented to her seat.

"It doesn't matter what you say. . . I saw enough to know what you did. You're nothing but a whore." Essex balled his fist. He wanted to hold her as he listened to the soft sobs spill out of her. He wanted to cry with her, but he couldn't forgive her. Not then and probably not in the future.

"You have no idea what happen!" She yelled. Her breathing had sped up and her legs heaved herself off of the bench. She could feel her chest constricting as her anger resurfaced.

"You never even tried to tell me! I gave up everything for you! My own family wants nothing to do with me because I chose you," he walked towards her and flung his fist in the air, slamming it down on the piano keys. A shrill, out of key, clang rung through the air around them.

"Then you could have listened to me if I was so important to you." She whimpered. Odessa wasn't afraid of him. From experience, he would never lay a hand on her. He was more likely to hurt himself than he was to hurt her.

She was afraid that this is all her former friend and her were able to greet each other with. Uproar, and anger, and hatred. She had loved him at one point, and it was bitter to remember the feeling of his arms around her. She was upset with herself for even lingering on the thought of what could never be again. Odessa had wished long and hard that he would take her into his arms and love her like he had. . . But wishes don't come true.