ANGELA
"Westrick made you miss sixth period so that he could personally walk you through the complexities of Senior Shuffle?" Vic laughed, her voice streaming wireless to my headphones from the new and improved landline my parents had just installed in the house. If the concept of a landline seems retro, I can assure you that it is. But to some extent, I am proud of my upgraded landline as it ended up being one of the only victories I had from when my parents and I first began dueling over my 20th century digs. I would have preferred a Facebook account, but this arrangement has kept me from being a social pariah amongst my socially awkward band of misfits. "Meanwhile the love triangle is on full display in the main hallway. Did you hear Rob's father while you were in there?"
"Yup. Fucker was hard to miss." I laughed, having been initially startled by the sounds of the main office door slamming shut as the parents of the guilty parties started filing into the reception area. However, it was the sounds of shouting that ultimately caused Westrick to briefly excuse himself though it quickly became clear he was not going to be getting back to me anytime soon. I stuffed my copy of Simon' class schedule into my backpack and quietly convened with Mrs. Bullard who was anxiously wringing her wrists as Westrick battled for supremacy. As soon as Westrick saw me head towards the main doors, he quickly ushered everyone into his office to contain the spectacle. "To be honest, the timing was perfect because I do believe Westrick was about to launch into yet another speech about the importance of making a good first impression."
"Was Eva still outside begging for attention when you left?" Vic asked as I laid down on my bed and stared at the random assortment of glow-in-the-dark stars that were still clinging to my ceiling.
"Nope. She probably ditched once the parents showed up. It's hard to maintain your innocence if you are caught near the scene of the crime." I muttered, suddenly exhausted about the whole situation. It has been an uncharacteristically long Monday, maybe it is time to start wrapping it up. "To be continued."
"So, what's the guy's name again?" Vic asked, unceremoniously changing the subject. I leisurely reach for the sheet of paper I left at the foot of my bed, skimming the top half.
"Ladies and gentleworms, I present you with the newest addition to the senior class of Middlebrook High: Simon Thomas Dierfield." I say, doing my best dramatic impersonation of a circus ringleader while Vic's laughs echo in my ears. "And according to the poorly photocopied scribbles in the right margins, he starts Friday." I flung the paper back down and sighed as it caught the breeze from my open window and flew under the bed.
"Why the Hell is he switching schools so late in the quarter?" Vic asked.
*Excellent question and one that Westrick refused to answer.*
"Oh, I have no idea and Westrick was otherwise occupied." I mutter, slowly reaching down to remove my socks as my back begins to groan against the soft mattress. I am definitely too tired to start speculating reasons to explain this impromptu disruption to what is already shaping up to be a tumultuous week. *Who cares why this guy is transferring mid-semester?* "I'm sure we'll know more by the time he gets here. I personally think this new arrival will actually be the small miracle Steve needs to find some semblance of anonymity."
"That's just because this town has the attention span of a goldfish." Vic muttered and I smiled.
"Pretty sure that goldfish thing has been debunked."
"What-ever!" Vic laughed. "But I think it depends on whether the newb is cute or not. For that to be true, Steve would need Jason Mamoa to show up on Friday and I'd say the chances of that happening are slim to none."
"Oh no," I began saying, shifting up onto my elbow so I could curl my legs and grab my backpack off the floor besides my bed. "The fact that I'm the one escorting this guy around means it is more likely to be Justin Bieber or some ridiculous TikTok personality."
"Mmm--" Vic hums into the phone, seemingly excited about the prospect of fresh blood coming to Middlebrook High. "Wait, did you say Dierfield? As in D-I-E-R-F-I-E-L-D?"
"Are you stalking him on Facebook already?" I asked
"Nope."
"Then why are you spelling out his last name?" I asked, momentarily losing interest in filing papers into my backpack.
"Unless he has his own handle, it doesn't look like there's a Facebook profile that fits the bill." Vic muttered and I could not help but ruffle my brow. "And I can't find anything on Twitter or Instagram either. What the fuck?"
"What are the chances that his parents drank the same Kool-Aid mine did?" I ask, momentarily intrigued by their lack of social media presence before I quickly shrug it off. "Or maybe he's just a tech savvy guy and made it so that you cannot publicly search for his profile."
"Maybe--" Vic muttered into the phone. "I'm not sure, but I just messaged Lawry so hopefully he can work his online investigative magic."
"Or we can just wait till a real live boy shows up on Friday and we interrogate him at lunch like everyone else." I said and though I could not see her do it, I knew her eyes were rolling into the back of her head. There was a part of me that did not really care about the new arrival given everything that was going on. Then again, Simon's rather wealthy parents moved him mid-semester into an estate nicknamed the Haunted Mansion and amazingly, this trust-fund baby does not appear to have an online profile. *You must admit, something feels rotten.* "Never mind, you're right. But for the record, I am the only one of us with a clean browser history so if y'all get caught, you are on your own."
"And that is why Lawry's better at this sort of shit. He's got the fancy scrubbers." Vic's smile seem to radiate through the phone and I chuckled. "You calling it quits for the night?"
"Just about to." I mutter as I start piling my books on the nightstand in anticipation of ending this phone conversation. Whoever he was, Simon Dierfield was likely in for the biggest culture shock of his life come week's end. "Well maybe it's a good thing that I got stuck with Senior Shuffle."
"We'll definitely have the inside scoop. At least until someone takes him off your hands." Vic added and I gargled something resembling mutual agreement. Works for me. Aside from knowing why they chose to come to Middlebrook, I do not really care about Simon Dierfield. "I'll see you tomorrow!"
"Ok my dear. Love you, take care."
"Ok. Byes."
"Byes." I said before I hung up the phone. A quick glance at the clock makes me wish tomorrow were Saturday. Instead, I blow a raspberry at my window in a vain attempt to display my frustration with the night sky and begin the arduous process of repacking my backpack and making sure I have everything I need.
*Yes, I am a nerd. And no, it does not bother me.* I came to terms with this reality a long time ago and have no interest in pretending that I do not care about my grades.
My room is a bit of an experiment in the forces of entropy. I could organize it, but then it would just get messy within a matter of minutes. Amusingly enough and quite to my mother's dismay, I know where everything is in my room and I have never handed in a dirty or crinkled homework assignment. Though we never officially discussed it, a steady stream of decent grades bought me some freedoms at home and now, my parents pretty much accept that this organized chaos co-exists in their otherwise clean and tidy household. So long as I keep the natural disaster from escaping my dormitory and do my own laundry, I can keep living in what my father calls my "pig's pet pig's sty."
"Angie?" My mom asked from my doorway, momentarily startling me.
"I'm off the phone!" I holler although it is clear from the passive expression on my mother's face that she was not monitoring my phone time.
"I can see that." Mom smiled from the doorway, leaning against the front wall just outside my room. "Did you finish your plate?" Mom gestures to the empty set of dishes sitting on my desk and I roll my eyes at the implication that I will leave them here to rot.
"Yes, mom. I will take my dishes down to the kitchen." I mutter as she slowly begins to walk down the hall. As she turns to leave, I realize that there is something she would probably find interesting about our newest addition to Middlebrook High. "Wait! Vic says the newb doesn't have Facebook." My mom pops her head through my doorway with a mischievous smile on her face that instantly makes me laugh with a twisted sense of loving defeat.
"So, I'm not the meanest parent in the world after all."
"Oh my God! Mom!" I exclaim, tossing a small stuffed animal at the doorway, barely missing her thanks to a quick getaway. *That's not what I meant.* Despite our bickering, I tell my mother pretty much everything and while she occasionally throws sass my way, she mainly listens to me and helps me bounce ideas around. This open-door policy generally scares the shit out of a lot of my friends and not many kids understand the point of sneaking out of the house when your mom already knows you are spending the night at Alva's while her parents are out of town. However, I also have a failsafe should something ever go wrong. "If that son-of-a-bitch has two parents, the four of you are going to bring about the next apocalypse." I holler, although by now my mother has escaped beyond earshot.
*Seriously, people. What rich kid does not have Facebook?* Exhaustion begins to get the better of me, so I shrug off my sense of unease as residual jitters and quickly finish getting my things ready.
I chuck my bag to the side of my bed that is closest to the door and change the song on my busted mp3 player before resuming my latest vampire book. I very much need to finish this series because it is keeping me from my newly assigned 'Crime and Punishment' reading. The only reason I am putting that shit off is because I have already read Dostoyevsky's masterpiece, but it was long enough ago that I do not feel comfortable going to class without brushing up on it first. In my defense, this series is dangerously addictive. It is based off Bram Stoker's 'Dracula' but instead it focuses on what happened before the infamous novel took place. I am also just a sucker for horror and since I do not have much else that needs to get done before tomorrow, I might as well curl up with a vampire.
*Figuratively speaking.*
----------~----------~----------
"Hey Angela, wait up." I turn my head in time to see Alva running up with her bag half open while she unsuccessfully tries to shove some papers into it. I had been sitting outside the front entrance to the school for a solid twenty minutes, impatiently waiting as Westrick instructed for the illustrious Simon to grace us with his presence. According to the itemized itinerary that Mrs. Bullard hand-delivered to me as I walked towards the main entrance, the boy is late. Late. Late. Late.
*And of course, it is fucking cold. Cold. Cold. Cold.*
"How goes it, Alva?" I ask, my breath visibly floating away as I spoke. Alva and I have managed to stay lab partners all through high school, which is no small feat considering how hectic our schedules can get. While our cantankerous attitudes tend to piss off most disciplines, the old school science nerds who run that department seem to revel in our eccentricities. Of course, that also might have something to do with the fact that all our instructors use to mouth-pipette ether.
"Babe you're gonna freeze your ass off out here."
"That'd be so damn sad." I say, trying to keep my jaw from rattling while she giggled as me. "I can see the headline now: Dead teen found outside high school, ass frozen to the stone bobcat paw." You see, the school sign is part of a stone sculpture of a bobcat snarling on all fours where the animal's front leg is slightly raised so that it can pin the sign to the floor. I had been sitting on top of the animal's paw with my legs dangling over the sign. To be fair, it is quite comfortable up here though I am surprised that Westrick has not yet scolded me for potentially damaging school property.
"Why are you out here, anyways?" She asked.
"Senior Shuffle. And the fucker is late." I said, although I do not normally care about punctuality. At this point, I was more annoyed with the pomp and circumstance that Westrick was orchestrating behind the scenes, combined with a profound desire to avoid the biting cold of the approaching New England winter. A chilling breeze passes through the parking lot and I automatically huddle around my steaming cup of coffee.
"You could come inside and wait." She said while simultaneously wrapping her scarf around her neck one more time. I motioned to the office window across the entrance walkway. Westrick was watching our exchange from the window, occasionally pacing the length of the wall. "Oh."
"It seems that I've got my own watchdog."
"Why the fuck would he care if you went inside to wait?" Alva asked.
"And I quote, 'don't you think you are being incredibly rude waiting here in the warmth of the school? You should be outside, so that his parents understand how much this school cares for its new students.' End quote."
"Are you serious?" Alva was dumbfounded and I could not prevent the smile streaming across my face as I recounted this morning's ridiculous exchange with Westrick.
"Dead ass fucking serious. Vic almost shit a brick when she heard him." I laughed, reliving the moment when Vic had to inevitably excuse herself before she blurted out the obvious--
*How much money did Simon's parents donate to the school board?*
"What a fucktart." Alva said and I giggled when I heard the descriptor. *Fucktart.* I like it. Has a nice, sweet ring to it so I might just make that my new favorite insult of the month. "Ok well I'm gonna go inside, do you mind?"
"No." I say as Alva makes her way to the front door. "Go! Save yourself!" I cry out, feigning dramatic flair as she laughs her way into the main hallway. I take another sip of my coffee and shake my head as my sigh catches the crisp morning air.
I cannot believe that prick is late. I will give him another ten minutes or so but after first bell, he is on his own. There is absolutely no reason for me to get a tardy notice because of some jack ass who obviously cannot navigate the complexities of an alarm clock. Not that I am a stickler for being on time, I just really hate that I must end my week with my ass frozen to this fucking cat.
"Angela!" I could hear Westrick calling me from the main entrance. I turn in time to see him wrap his pimpled neck in a rather banal scarf, before slowly making his way to me with his lip in a stern line. He is either really cold or debating whether to yell at me for sitting on his precious pussy. "Have you seen Mr. Dierfield yet?" Having positioned myself on higher ground, it was clear he was holding back as he spoke. He eyed my seating arrangement, then scoffed and scanned the parking lot for signs of straggling students.
*They donated the cash directly to the school, didn't they?*
"Not yet." I mutter as he pretends to search for him in the distance.
"Interesting. I'll have to have a talk with him when he arrives." Westrick mummers to no one in particular. Should I tell him that his "scoldings" are a source of amusement for the student body? I shake my head at him, somewhat amused by his sudden change in disposition. It is kind of like watching an adult toddler, too afraid to leave the safety of his home base but desperate to be a part of the action, nonetheless.
"I look forward to it."
The voice seemed to come out of nowhere, but sure enough a silver breath redirected my attention to the brush just to my right where a dirty blond youth emerged onto the sidewalk, casually strolling in our direction. He had his hair combed back, and though a few strands framed his eyes, his hair barely touched the loosened collar of his black button up shirt. His build was solid, but he looked lean despite the heavy pea coat he had one and he walked with purpose. Westrick's attitude instantly changed, and he crossed in front of me to greet who was most likely to be, Simon Dierfield. I stayed put, slowly finishing my coffee while I swallowed my now quickened heart back into my chest and waited to see how this all played out.
As Westrick did his best to swoon over the young man, I diverted my eyes from the irresistible teenage heartthrob that had just stepped onto campus and scanned the parking lot for signs of parents. Oddly enough, I saw nothing that would explain his sudden appearance, but it was possible for the boy to have entered through the gym, wander down the hallway and then exit through the back of the auditorium, which let out near this side of the school. I caught Simon's eyes for a moment when I circled back to the two of them, briefly glancing at the base of his neck where you could see a fraction of his pale chest underneath the loosened folds of fabric. *The boy is stunning.* Amazingly, he did not shudder in the cold air, whereas my face was becoming painfully warm against the cool breeze. I seriously need to calm the fuck down. Westrick and Simon began heading back towards me, so I decided to ignore the strange knot in my stomach and climbed back down to ground level to get this shit show on the road.
"We have finished setting up your class schedule but as I was saying to your parents earlier, you will not be assigned a locker until Monday." Westrick was rambling about school policies that likely meant nothing to Simon, who seemed oddly amused by the whole situation. To his credit, this speech is generally reserved for the doting parents who for some reason, are nowhere to be found. When they finally catch up to my position, I stand back and patiently wait for Westrick to introduce me so that we can get inside and find any one of the dozens of female students who will willingly take this silver-face fox off my hands. Now that I have seen him, there is simply no way Simon will make it through first period with me as his escort and considering the unexpected hormone surge that I am experiencing right now, maybe that is a good thing. "Ah Ms. Gibbons. Nice of you to *finally* join us."
*You got some sort of kick-back with this arrangement.*
"Conserving my energy, sir." I say, my voice even and measured but obviously dripping with sarcasm. Westrick's eyes grow dead cold, but his lips remained locked in a tight line that stretched across his furrowed face. *That's right, fucktart. I am better at this than you are.* The alarming clamors from first bell snap Westrick out of his lock-jawed moment of panic and I smile at his startled expression as he tries to regain some semblance of control. Simon seems amused by the exchange but says nothing, just steps back on his heel and focuses his attention on Westrick.
"As I was saying, this is Angela Gibbons and seeing as you will be sharing a number of classes, it makes sense that she should be the one to show you around today." Westrick adds, motioning for us to start making our way into the school. Reluctantly, we both follow his lead into the main hallway as Westrick begins to nervously point out various offices and rooms. *Why is he so tense?* "After the school day, please come back to this office." Westrick motions to Claudia's office door behind him.
Simon appeared to be momentarily frightened by the hoard of students in the hallway, seemingly oblivious to the murmuring roar that flared up as soon as he walked through the door. Westrick was lost in the moment and uncomfortably shifted his weight as he held out an outstretched hand towards Simon.
"Do you have any questions?" Westrick asks, though Simon did not register a response. For some reason, the knot in my stomach begins to grow as the realization that Westrick was about to leave me alone with this guy begins to settle in.
"Not at this time. Thank you." Simon's smooth tone delivers an interesting punch to my ears as Westrick slowly retracts his hand. I adjust the weight of my backpack, pretending to care about the fact that I am probably going to be late for Mr. Lippman's class if we keep this charade going for much longer. In truth, I needed an excuse to adjust my sweater collar. Now that we were inside, the warmth from my cheeks was blistering, which only whipped up my insides into something resembling yearning.
*Stop swooning. Get a grip. Now.*
"Very well. Alright Angela, he's all yours." Westrick says before he quickly makes his way to the office, leaving me alone with Simon as the crowds continue to swarm by. As soon as Westrick was out of earshot, Simon turned to face me and I was suddenly unsure of what to do until a group of students accidentally bump into me. The disruption forces me to break eye contact with Simon but gave me enough time to clear my throat and re-adjust my shoulder strap.
*Ok, it's show time.*
"Well, like he said. I'm Angela Gibbons." I say as I awkwardly extend my hand to him. Simon stares at me with a curious smile on his face but does nothing. I was about to retract but a sense of panic quickly settles into my bones when I realize he had already shifted closer to me. His movements were slow yet swift, and the fascinating contradiction causes me to momentarily freeze.
"If he already said it, why repeat it?" Simon asks softly, slowly curling my fingers into a fist as he gently pushes my hand back towards my center. I barely registered his cool touch against mine, the heat rising to my cheeks as the knot in my stomach instantly turned into a small fireball. The deafening silence raises alarm bells in my subconscious as I come to the sudden realization that I am being played like a fiddle. *Who the fuck do you think you are?* "I assure you; I will remember your name." His smooth delivery, dripping with suggestion.
"Store it in the same place you keep track of normal school hours. We're late, Casanova." With my newly curled fist, I bumped him square on the shoulder which inevitably throws off his footing. He stepped back on his heels again, the smile momentarily stripped from his face as his eye softened and my temples burned. I did not wait for him to regain his balance, choosing instead to turn down the hall and wait for him to either catch up or wander off. The effect was immediate, and I felt more like myself as soon as I veered into the rowdy crowd of unsuspecting students, grateful to have some distance between me and Simon.
"Casanova?" Simon mutters under his breath, a combination of shock and bewilderment on his face as he scanned the halls. He did seem frazzled by his surroundings and against my better judgement, I inadvertently slowed down so that he could remain by my side. I gave a few underclassmen some choice facial expressions as if to suggest they were slowing me down, but it was more of an excuse to keep Simon in my peripheral view while keeping him at arm's length.
"Read a book." I say over the ruckus, and he gives me a half-hearted smile despite the petty insult. "This way, we need to head towards the history wing." He follows me, trying to keep up though it is rather difficult with the constant bombardment of passing students. Normally, I take my sweet time to stroll down the hall, mostly because I dread going to history but suddenly today, I have no time to waste.
"Giacomo wrote many works; you'll have to be specific." He says in a rather matter-of-fact tone of voice. The sound of his voice forces me to pause long enough to realize he is flashing me a coy, little smile.
*Was that a cut?*
"The one with Helene." I say solemnly, waiting for his eyes to gloss over. Instead, he stared back into me and furrowed his brow. Students were still passing by but neither of us moved for half a second while he re-calculated his response. *Yes, I know who Casanova really was and apparently, so do you.* Simon's expression softens slightly but before I can turn to break eye contact, he reaches out and gently touches my elbow..
"Do you always aim for the heart?" He asks, his intonation making it hard to tell if he is kidding or not. The fireball in my stomach continues to burn but I gently shake off his touch while resuming the trek down the hallway.
*I have not had enough coffee.*
"Routinely." I say as we work our way down the main corridor towards Lippman's classroom. I should have dropped off my jacket at my locker first, but I guess that can wait till after class. "This is the main hallway by the way, and it extends throughout the school. The cafeteria is centrally located, and the department wings go off to the sides." Now that the hallways were starting to clear up, I could motion the directions with my hands though Simon did not appear to be listening to a word I said. We were just outside Lippman's door, a momentary lull in the influx of students causing us to be temporarily out of earshot.
"Sustenance or pleasure?" Simon asked, slowly circling behind me with his head cocked at an angle. His expression was incredibly difficult to read, and I was unable to do more than stare back at him with a dumbfounded look on my face while the slow burning fire in my stomach churned. "Your hunting skills are quite advanced. Do you enjoy the kill or are you just really hungry?" His voice was dripping with suggestive innuendo and I could not help myself, I shifted my weight and rifled through my mental rolodex for a snappy comeback.
*I've got nothing.*
"Why do you care?" I ask.
"Maybe I like you." He said and I turned towards the door and chuckled in spite of the red flush that had just scorched my neck and face. Thankfully, he did not seem to notice my momentary lapse in judgement and remained motionless, as if I had struck him. *Did he just say that to me?* I turned at the doorjamb and watched him square his shoulders and lean against the wall for a moment.
"Did it ever occur to you that maybe I don't like you?" I say in the most even tone of voice I can muster, and he chuckles ever so gently. His gaze is unnerving, piercing and I can feel my cheeks growing warm again. *Get over yourself, he will be gone the second we get into that room.* "Don't worry, you'll have your pick of the litter." I say as I cryptically walk into the classroom and make my way to my desk.
*Damn, Laurie is not here yet.*
As I remove my suffocating jacket, I look over to see Simon adjusting his coat on the back of Laurie's chair. I should say something, but a quick glance around the room makes it clear that the murmurs have already started as cell phone lights flash and text messages about the mysterious hot new senior circulate through the airways. Reluctantly, I slump into my chair, praying for relief from this rather surprising pain reverberating through my temporal lobes. Simon's demeanor shifts for a moment, seemingly on the defensive as he gracefully takes the seat next to mine. *Don't get too comfortable there, Simon.* Remarkably, while his movements were suddenly reserved, he retained a sense of breathtaking ease that was surprisingly unsettling, and it was painfully obvious that he did not belong in Middlebrook. I pushed my nerves aside and watched as Simon dispassionately scanned the random scribbles etched into his wooden desktop.
"You seem eager to release your hold on me." Simon mutters under his breath, slowly tracing some figure on the desktop with his index finger without ever glancing in my direction. I narrow my gaze, trying desperately to read the expression on his face to discern if he is still kidding around.
"You're not a sheep. You can fend for yourself." I say quietly, embarrassed that his voice made me want to shift my weight again. He did not have to meet my eyes to make me feel uneasy and the thought that I could be so easily unnerved angered me. *Shake this up.* "Why did you come to Middlebrook?"
"Sustenance, then." He said simply, finally meeting my gaze though the experience made my body ache and my heartbeat quickened. "You must be hungry." His delivery was hypnotic and while my own voice got caught in my throat, it was the sly smile that slowly crossed his face that finally snapped me back.
*You son-of-a-bitch.* No. You do not get to fuck with my calm.
"You are out of your league." I whispered, decisively sitting up and breaking the trance that had fallen on our little corner of the room.
The silence is deafening. Neither of us move, each staring into the other's eyes with daggers unsheathed. The air seems to still and for a moment, we are alone in the room.
"Has anyone ever told you that you are absolutely beautiful when you're riled up?" He asks softly and I could not stop myself from lightly gasping. His smile broadens in a wickedly devious spectacle and we both jump a little when the second bell rings. By the time I finally find my voice, Eva scurries over behind Simon and places her hands ever so lightly about his shoulders in a slightly possessive display. He looks over his shoulder with a bit of interest and I find that I must fight a mild tinge of envy.
*Cue, the litter.*
"Oh my god, Angela is this the new addition to Middlebrook high?" Eva leans into Simon with a smile and I suddenly hate myself for being an irrational hormonal teenager. Simon shoots me a curious look that I cannot decipher, and I decide that this is an appropriate end to our brief interlude. I chuckle at my ignorance, slightly shaking my head as I look at the clock.
"A full ninety seconds. I'm impressed." I mutter under my breath and Simon cocks his head to the side as he smirks at me. *Did he hear me?* Eva's blissful ignorance continues while she places herself in between Simon and myself, her back towards me. I am jealous of her immediate comfort with him as she slowly drapes his arm over hers in anticipation of their leaving my side of the room. Just as well. I know all I need to know.
*For now, at least.*
"What was that Angie?" Eva asks over her shoulder with nothing resembling interest in what I have to say. I should chastise her for her obvious behavior, but I manage to steal a glance of Simon smiling at me and I can feel my cheeks grow warm again.
*He needs to go. Now.*
"Nothing." I mutter, shaking my head.
"Well then." She says patting Simon's shoulders again. His expression is difficult to read but I turn from them to start removing my books from my backpack. *Why is this taking so long? Go.* "Do you mind if I take Simon over to my desk to meet more of his fellow seniors?" I like how she pretends that this is a non-rhetorical question. As if I were to say 'yes,' that she would actually walk back to her desk without an argument.
"Nope." I said, momentarily looking up at Simon only to find a slight frown on his face. What I would give to be able to read your mind right now. "He's all yours."
"Awesome!" Eva chants.
Laurie jogs to the desk just as Simon gets to his feet. Her expression as she gives Simon a look over is priceless. *God, I hope I did not look that desperate when I first saw him.* As he grabs his coat from the back of his chair, he leans over and gently whispers to me,
"I guess I'll see you later." Instantly my cheeks flush and I want nothing more than to wipe that smile off his face with a serrated blade.
"Not if I can help it." I say, handing Eva my official copy of his class schedule just as she takes his arm and scoots him over to her crew. I cannot decide if that final look on his face is curiosity or injury, but I take a deep breath and claim victory in having had the last snarky remark. As soon as he settles down in his chair on the opposite side of the room, Mr. Lippman hurries over to make his presence known as my fellow female classmates being to swoon.
"Was that the Mansion fuck?" Laurie asks as she seats herself, snapping me back from my internal monologue.
*Get a grip Angela.*
"Yup. May I introduce Simon Dierfield, in all his glory." I say motioning to a surprised Simon as he is shoveled between Eva and her female consorts. Interestingly, Mr. Lippman shuffles in his seated position on top of Eva's desk, seeming to show the first signs of discomfort as Simon leans back with a graceful elegance that you read about in old Victorian novels. I smile in spite of my frustrations. At least now there is someone else in this class who can make Mr. Lippman squirm like a worm on a hook.
"Definitely a hottie." Laurie says eying Simon up and down once more. She deliberately licks her upper lip and I stifle the urge to laugh outright. "Was it love at first sight?" She asks, pretending to be coy when she leans into me, trying to get a glance of him through the crowd that has swarmed around his table. I roll my eyes.
"Oh, it was a regular Scarlet O' Hara moment this morning while we were standing in the fucking cold." I chuckle and Laurie playfully slaps my arm.
"Oh, come on! You can't tell me you didn't notice the ripeness of those abs?" She says and we both laugh with childish glee. Suddenly my cheeks begin to flush again while Laurie makes a guttural sigh, resting on her elbows as she glosses over me.
*I get it. He's hot.*
"I have to confess that I've always been more of an ass girl." I say softly. Laurie never takes her eyes off Simon and I gently prod her shoulder while I continue ignoring Simon in a deliberate attempt to appear indifferent.
"Oh, he's got that too. Damn, he's almost perfect."
*Any more of this and she is going to start salivating all over my history textbook.*
"Easy there, tiger. There's a bit of tarnish on the edges of that silver spoon." I say as Laurie starts licking her lips again. Jesus…you would think we lived in an all-female commune by the way everyone is reacting to this kid.
"Tarnish? I can handle that. Remember, I like 'em rough." She jokes and I cannot help but smile. Finally, I begin to feel my stomach unravel for the first time since laying eyes on the likes of Simon Dierfield. I lean back into my chair, giving Laurie the unaltered view of the spectacle that has been slowly eating into our history class for about twenty minutes now.
"Rough." I say matter-of-factly. Instantly, I can see his cool, languid movements as the students flooded the halls after first bell, the way his eyes looked into mine when he was being facetious...it was fluid, almost-- "like velvet."
"Yes! Velvet rough." Laurie pokes my arm after she finally draws her attention away from the others. "Lock that boy up in a dungeon and teach him to lick your boots."
"Wow." I laugh outright, once again embarrassed by the flush in my cheeks. "Someone's been reading back issues of 'Fifty Shades.'"
"Sweetheart, I hate to break it to you, but that boy doesn't use safe words." Laurie clamors by slowly slamming her fists on the desk. We both burst out laughing, inadvertently drawing the attention of the Middlebrook welcoming committee, which only exasperates our glee. Neither of us look their way, likely because we were laughing so hard that our cheeks began to hurt.
"Is there a particular reason for all the laughter coming from that area of the room?" Mr. Lippman booms from his perched corner. Without so much of a look I say,
"Not particularly." And then for absolutely no reason add, "Long live Babylon!" Once again, Laurie and I burst out laughing and Mr. Lippman slowly walks over to gives us a scolding about our "inappropriate behavior that has continuously disrupted today's lecture." I fight the urge to continue laughing by biting my lip.
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SIMON
I stared at her dispassionately throughout the "lecture," if you can call it that. Our esteemed Mr. Lippman seemed a bit off his game once he finally got around to teaching his students about Babylon. Eva seemed surprised that he bothered to lecture at all; it seems his methodology is usually more "hands off." From what I could extract from his less perversive thoughts, he seemed intimidated by my demeanor and I held back my amusement as he continued to stress the magnificent technological advances of Babylon at the time. He paused every so often to wonder why I was not writing down his wondrous pearls of wisdom, but he never stopped to inquire if we were following along. He simply rambled on in a non-stop monologue as the minutes ticked by.
I did my best to feign interest in the childish fantasies of my female consorts while keeping my expression sedate whenever I periodically glanced at Angela. This plan proved to be futile since she never looked back at me after I left her side. It seems that I will have to rely on more direct tactics if I am to secure her attentions in the future though I will have to mind her quick tongue. Having spent some time with the high school "elite," I doubt that the young men in this school are able to keep up with her for long before she inevitably bruises their fragile egos. 'You are out of your league.' Her words echoed in my ears with a resounding challenge that I could not ignore.
*Am I?*
Witty banter aside, there was one detail I had yet to resolve. I had initially learned to cultivate mortal reactions through speech and tone, long before I mastered the ability to invade their thoughts and plant seeds of my own. Her reaction might have been easier to modulate if I could read her mind, although that exercise proved oddly futile. That fact alone would not have bothered me, but nothing seemed to throw her off her game, including my touch. Her immunity was a natural marvel, and I found myself studying the curves of her throat as she swallowed, strangely obsessed with her lips as she spoke. I should be more concerned that she is sealed off from my advances, instead I find myself wondering if she still hears my words in her ears.
*You are beautiful when you're riled up.*
She is not sitting far enough away from me that I cannot hear her conversations with Laurie though surely no one else around me can. Being able to hear very clearly across great distances is an advantage I have not had to rely on since I developed the ability to read mortal minds. With that said, I seem to be relying on my keen hearing a great deal to understand Angela. I can tap into the stream of consciousness of every mortal within earshot, but for some unknown reason, I cannot read hers. I can sense her emotions, I can even hear the rhythmic pulse of her heart as she scribbles miscellaneous notes to Laurie, but I cannot pry her thoughts from her mind. At first, I figured it might have been the initial shock of seeing her that closed off her mind to me, but it has been almost an hour and I am nowhere closer to my goal.
She looked stunning out front. Truth is she caught my attention well before she jumped off the stone animal and made her way towards Westrick outside the main entrance. She was a mix of contradictions, a considerate heart with a fiery, commanding tone and the slightest touch of sass. Westrick was lost, desperately trying to regain his authority from a misfit who could disarm him at will. I was instantly taken aback, finding myself memorizing the lines of her face, her olive skin beautifully reddened from the cold. She is attractive, though she does her best to hide it under all that material. Her long black hair was thick with luscious waves that framed her face in such a way that I had to keep my hands at my side to keep from brushing it behind her ears. *I want her.* The thought struck me as odd, unexpected. So much so that I felt my fingers brush hers long before I registered her outstretched hand, attempting to sway her heart with my touch. Her reaction was sudden, which is why she initially caught me off guard. She walked with purpose, confident that I would either keep up the pace or leave her be. My fumbling attempts to match her gate were momentarily thwarted by my abrupt realization that mortal living would require living with mortal quirks. It has been a long while since I have had to blend into a crowd in daylight and somehow, she seemed to pick up on my discomfort as it was the only time she slowed down. Her inability to be read only added to my delightful sense of frustration, forcing me to rely on her demeanor to unnerve her. It might have taken a bit longer than anticipated, but the pangs of yearning only intensified when her voice finally caught in her throat, forcing her carotid artery to swell and my fangs to descend.
*I should stop this nonsense.*
She was quick to unload me on Eva. I am not particularly sure if that is because she thinks I am not interested or if she thinks that she does not have a chance with me even if I was interested. 'Did it ever occur to you that maybe I don't like you?' Her words pained me more than I cared to admit but her body temperature fluctuations matched her racing heartbeat during our discourse, and she blushed several times in spite of what she may have said out loud.
*She must feel something.* Strange, but there is a momentary sting in my chest that takes me by surprise as I consider the possibility.
The harsh ringing of the bell interrupts my stream of consciousness, signaling the end of the period. Mr. Lippman scribbles a mediocre homework assignment on the board before going to his desk to pretend he is a busy man. As I gather my things to leave, I give Mr. Lippman a quick once over. It would be a public service to feed on him. Without warning, a devious smile crosses my lips…
*How would she taste?*
"Ok so next up is Spanish. We can take our time since its right down the hall." Eva says as she tosses her red curls back over her shoulder. Her mind is an open book but while I smile back at her, I lean into my seat so that I can catch a glimpse of Laurie and Angela as they walk out of the room. I was hoping she would try to steal a glance of me before she left but of course, she does not.
*Patience, Simon.*