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Chapter 11.
Parlez Vous Francais STELLA.
It's Monday morning and I just can't wait to get to school. I haven't felt like this in well - ever. I woke up at the crack of dawn wide-awake. What am I going to wear today?! It has to be cool but not overly done and pretentious. It has to he s.e.xy but not s.l.u.tty. This will be the first time I've seen him since work on Sat.u.r.day. He left with bags of clothes, but no mention of my number or a date or anything, just a 'see you Monday' and away he went. Typical guy.
I'm going to play it cool, and wait for him to make the first move. That is if he actually will. On Sat.u.r.day, I thought without a doubt he was flirting. As I internalized every word we said to each other since then (as all girls do and anyone who says differently is a liar), self-doubt is making a nice argument and now I'm not so sure. Whatever the case, I'm a hot mess, littered with insecurities and the intense obsession to look really cute today. Who is this girl anyways? I think I liked her better when she was laid back and cared more for Typography Doc.u.mentaries then boys.
I end up in skinny jeans, pale pink ballet flats and a white s.h.i.+rt with the b.u.t.tons undone just enough to see the very tip top of my light peach lacy bra. A little peek but nothing to get Mrs. Dexter, our princ.i.p.al and proper fas.h.i.+on n.a.z.i, in a tizzy. I piled on lots of necklaces and nervously waited for Gabs, chewing my nails to the cuticle. I know, filthy habit. Murrie is under going the switch to summer tires so thankfully Gabs can pick me up and I can avoid the stinky bus.
It looks really nice today so I don't even grab a coat. It's funny how naked you feel that first warm day of the year when you forgo the jacket and step outside without your winter armour; like you left the house with no pants on.
I grab my bag and aviator sungla.s.ses as I hear her roaring up the driveway.
Jumping in the Subaru, Gabs eyes me speculatively. "Well well well, aren't we miss Glamour girl today. Quelle est l'occasion speciale?" she goads, judging my wardrobe blatantly as I fiddle with my seat belt, unable to get the sucker to click in. I can't hide anything from this girl, so I avoid her eyes and try not to start giggling maniacally; I do this when I'm nervous. Never sit beside me at a funeral, I'm so inappropriate.
I scramble to clear my brain of everything Ash. Dead puppies, war, poverty, naked old people (shudder). Yup that last one did it.
Finally, unable to avoid the death stare I say, "Geez Gabby, can't I try to look nice every now and again?" She's so not buying it.
"No. No you can't," she replies flatly, giving the stink eye before sliding her knock off channel sungla.s.ses back on and peeling out of the driveway. My composure is short lived, as my lips curl up uncontrollably. Traitors.
"So I take it you've decided to give Todd the old college try? You little s.l.u.t you," she jokes, completely misinterpreting my anxious behaviour.
"No!" I blurt, "G.o.d Gabs, I can't date Todd. I mean he's a nice guy but dude, really? Definitely not my type. I prefer my guys of the a.s.shole variety. Oh and they have to be at least a little ugly, completely broke and have no future whatsoever. I hate compet.i.tion."
Looking genuinely surprised, her look turns calculating with the idea of why I might be showing a little too much cleavage. Gabs is just worried about me I know. She's cautious because I know she thinks Ash is too cool for school and not right for me. She says he will break my heart and stomp it into the ground if I'm not careful. She's probably right but I don't care anymore. I'm tired of sitting on the sidelines of my life and watching other people play the game.
"Then I want to know why you're acting like a grinning idiot today and for the love of Pete, please tell me it isn't for that a.r.s.e-wipe Asher Grey."
"Oh Gabby hush it. I thought you'd be wowed by my awesome attempt at looking better. I wore not only blush, but mascara too!" Flicking my eyelashes at her, I catch a trickle of a smile.
"Poor Todd. Keeping him in mind Stella, you might want to do up a few b.u.t.tons there. He looked really love sick puppyish over you at The Grind. I wouldn't be surprised if that lacy number sent him pitching a big one in his hipster jeans, and THAT is something I don't need to see before third period - thank you very much."
"Really? That bad?"
Self consciously I do up one more b.u.t.ton.
First period for us is French. The cla.s.sroom is way at the end of the hallway so my eyes are on high alert as we make our way there, although I didn't see his car in the parking lot. I try to mask my disappointment but then I spy Francine, s.h.i.+t. I forgot all about her. It's one thing that I made fun of her on Friday, it is quite another for her to find out I'm jazzing over Asher. I should transfer schools now, save myself the torture and ridicule that is sure to follow. I hide behind some hulky football dude and duck into cla.s.s before she can rip me a new one. I hate confrontation.
"Slick move Stella. Look, don't get all freaked, she's harmless, what's the worst she can do?" Gabby is settling into the seat beside me, turning off her cell. I have never seen her afraid of anyone, I envy that. It isn't like I'm a big nerd and everyone hates me; I actually have a lot of friends, well enough anyways. But if I ever annoyed or p.i.s.sed anyone off with my sarcasm, I'd feel so guilty that I'd worry myself into a hot mess. Anxiety issues are my specialty. I b.i.t.c.h in private and Gabs is the only one privy to my witty charm. Dr. O'Leary would have some clinical terms for it, but for me, the root of my fear is people not liking me, so I try my best to be the bigger person and suck up an apology when needed.
I sigh thinking of all the ways she can humiliate me, "Oh I dunno, tell everyone I have the clap, dual s.e.x organs, an extra nipple?"
"Well yeah there's THAT, but c'mon, do you think anyone would truly believe her?" she says sounding annoyed that I am wasting my time on this. So not helping Gabby.
"Well yes, yes they would," I say without hesitation.
"Who has the clap?" a deep voice joins us from behind my shoulder.
I jump out of my skin. It's funny how you can know someone so little and yet their voice is seared into your memory. Like Darth Vader or Christopher Walken; their voices are their signature, and now I can add one more name to my memory card. I feel a s.h.i.+ver run down my spine as I turn to see Ash sitting in the seat beside me.
"What are you doing here!?" I sputter.
"Well I thought I would brush up on my french. It's such a beautiful language, wouldn't you agree Gabby?" he asks, switching to look at her. I can tell she's scowling with her Spanish stink eye.
"It's ok, but Spanish is way more difficult to master. I much prefer it over French." She flicks her hair over her shoulder in an act of indifference as she checks out her recent manicure.
"Don't tell your mom that. But I do agree completely."
He then starts chatting in perfect Spanish to her, I'm not joking. Gabs is left speechless, for once. Although it doesn't last and she replies with a string of words that sound like she's ripping him a new one but in actuality it's probably 'Hey, I like the colour blue'. I'm not sure what they've said but it ends with a chilly glare from her to me. What did I do?
"Aright, alright, Mr. Cool. Just keep your eyes on Madame Ouillette, we're trying to learn here," Gabs barks. She's lying of corse; she doesn't actually need to learn a thing. She's been bilingual since she was three. It's just a required credit that she's breezing through. She flips open her book and pretends to concentrate.
Trapped between the ice queen and the c.o.c.ky smart a.s.s, I study my text without reading a single word. Good times.
"Can I share your text until I get mine?" he asks with a grin as I hear Gabs heave big sigh next to me.
You can stake claim to my unborn child if you want, but I don't say that part out loud. I nod a yes and try not to act like a dolt for the next 80 minutes.
Chapter 12.
Seduction 101... Well Not Really ASH.
I haven't been running as exercise in, well, have I ever been running? Out of sport that is, not running to save my a.s.s - I've done that loads of times. It's not my idea of 'super fun time'. I overheard her tell Gabs that she was going for a run this afternoon. Thought it would be a good way to get her alone, see if I can figure this chick out. I know for one thing that her little girlfriend does NOT like me. I can't help but like her though. She's a handful. Man, what a fantastic demon she would be.
So far our encounters have been highly populated and I thought if I were to casually 'b.u.mp' into her on a run I could better gauge her particular demon strength. Sometimes with all the human energies floating around it's harder to pin point, but if I got her alone in the woods, caught off-guard, I might be able to figure her out. So here I am, at the Gorge, dressed in my lame 'jogger gear', waiting for her to show up and feeling a lot like that creepy stalker guy.
I've watched her really closely this week, she's finished 'the change' I'm sure of it. I certainly know the guys at school have noticed. They've been panting over her constantly; it's driving me mental. What she's wearing, how she's wearing it, describing her every body part in great detail, the things they want to do to her, or her to them. They wouldn't last two seconds alone with her.
I can't even fathom how she can't see it clear as day, but she seems utterly oblivious to the fact that she's changing so quickly on the physical realm. I sense her demon confidence kicking in though, no question. This week has been h.e.l.l for me too. If I hear one more pre-p.u.b.escent moron talk about getting her naked, I'm going to shoot an electric bolt into their junk. I can't figure out why those comments would bother me so much either. It's an emotion I don't understand all that well; one I don't think I have ever had. Is this what jealousy feels like?
All I know is that I wanted to rip out their throats when they started to talk about Stella that way. I can't fathom why I would feel these things for her either, I barely know her, and yet there it is. I'd be lying to myself if I didn't admit I felt something for her, something I can't explain. I definitely feel a s.e.xual attraction to her, but it feels different somehow. I feel very protective of her; she seems so vulnerable and lost in this human world. I think she knows she doesn't belong, but has no idea why or how. When I'm around her I can feel the thrum of electricity bouncing back and forth. I've never felt it this strong before though.
I know I'm going to have to do it; explain what we are. Explain that her whole existence she knows to be true is actually a lie. My G.o.d, how do you casually bring THAT one up? 'Oh yeah, by the way Stella, you're a demon. Your mom was one too, not sure what you can do, you might be capable of incinerating your lunch tray with one touch, but do you have your Geometry a.s.signment done?'
I mean, I don't have to tell her myself, I can walk away and let her figure it out on her own, but that would be cruel. There's no telling what she's capable of and what she could do if she doesn't understand what's happening to her. We demons stick to ourselves mostly, it's a pretty solitary life; but whatever humanity I guess I do have won't let me walk away. Whether it's my civic demon duty or something that goes far deeper.
I parked in the main lot and made my way into the woods where she was headed the last time. Picking up my pace so that I actually can fake being a good runner, I hear her G.o.d-awful voice approaching. She is so terribly bad at that, someone ought to tell her. In a sudden movement, that in retrospect I should have been better at avoiding, I'm off my feet and kissing the dirt. It came out of nowhere, taking out my legs as I barrelled into the ground. Flipping over in a flash to figure out the threat, I see him. My adversary. Her freakin' dog.
"Oh my G.o.d! Are you ok? Are you hurt?" Stella, breathless, crumples beside me, trying to a.s.sess whether the dog did any real damage.
"Uh yeah, I mean no, I'm ok, just my pride I think." I look to the beast as he lolls his tongue out, unaware of his clumsiness. "Protecting his master and taking me out. Clever dog," I say getting up slowly and faking some pain as she pulls up my arm at my elbow and dusts some mud off my t-s.h.i.+rt. Sympathy from a pretty girl is always a good thing right? The beast circles around me, nudging my legs and trying to take me down again.
"Harve! Stop doing that!" she yells. "He doesn't realize his own strength. He's harmless I swear. That's why I started running over here on the east side, it's pretty desolate as he has a tendency to become over zealous when he sees newbies on the trail. He jumped up on some lady once and it took every ounce of my charming self to convince her he was not a menace to society that needed to be executed."
Her face is beet red from the run, her hair up in a high pony with some pieces falling around her cheeks. She's not a high fas.h.i.+on guru in sports wear that's for sure. Just donning some old holey sweats and t-s.h.i.+rt; but she looks unbelievable.
She begins to realize I'm seeing her in a non-makeup, hair un-done, grubby sweat clothes state. Embarra.s.sment sets in as she nervously tucks some hair behind her ear, and adjusts her s.h.i.+rt.
"The other trails in the west are better for hiking and stuff, but I like this side myself, more wild and unpopulated," she tells me.
Even covered in a layer of sweat, her beauty is amazing. She continues to smile and leans towards me removing a clump of dead gra.s.s from my hair, so much for looking cool myself. "You sure you ok? Nothing broke? You're not in shock, unable to feel pain are you? Follow my finger," she says, moving her right index finger from side to side.
"I think I'll live Stella. Aside from a bruised ego, I'm ok. Do you come here often then?" I say.
"Ya, I live right next to this property, in the big farmhouse beside the south entrance. I like the quiet and Harve is insanely in love with it." She leans down to give him a good rub on his side. He's enjoying the little break and plunks down beside her with a heaving sigh.
"Harve eh? I like it. Suits him well." As I look down at her, I see something very unique about her whole being. She isn't at all like the other demons I know, she radiates a sort of warmth about her, an energy that seems to draw me in. It makes me want to touch her; her skin, her face, her lips, run my fingers through her long hair. It really feels like a spell that's drawing me in. Like an invisible rope pulling me closer, compelling me to reach for her hand. I almost do it too, but I manage to snap myself back to reality as I'm standing here, not speaking and staring at her like a tool.
She's looking back at me and grinning, like she can see right through to my thoughts. Maybe she can read minds? It's as if she knows I'm lying, faking this runner bit. It makes me feel nervous as I shuffle my feet pretending to shake out the kinks from the fall.
"Ok, well, I should let you get back to it, you sure you're ok? You don't need CPR or anything?" she asks with a sly smile.
"Yes, CPR, I desperately need CPR. Are you offering?" I question.
"Nah, I couldn't pa.s.s the course. Harve is excellent at it though," she jokes, gesturing back to the beast.
"I'll take your word for it Stella. See you Monday then." I turn to leave, "Um, one thing though. I have to say that I really love that Brittany number you did, I think you got the pitch down perfectly." I raise my eyebrows at her with a big grin and jog back from where I came. When I look back after her, she's watching me, smiling, hands on her hips. Seeing me look, she flips the bird before adjusting her ear buds and running in the opposite direction. I like this gritty side to her. I like it a lot.
Chapter 13.
The Rules STELLA.
Physics sucks. I'm mentally incapable of learning this stuff, I'm convinced of this fact. I've been sitting here at the dining table staring off into s.p.a.ce for the last 45 minutes and have nothing to show for it. I could ask Dad but then I'd be afraid that he'd get all excited and launch into a full-blown nerd lecture on the laws of gravity or formulas for acceleration. Nope, I'd rather suffer in silence, thanks.
I've procrastinated like a champ today. I've had four gla.s.ses of chocolate milk, braided my hair into a knotted mess, doodled 7 pages of swirls and stars, and thought about Ash about 252 times. I can't help but wonder if he was actually following me yesterday. He seemed kinda jittery and I really don't think he's a runner. He wasn't even breaking a sweat, though he must've parked 3 miles away.
I still don't get him though. I catch him at school, watching me with an intensity like he's trying to intimidate me. Not in a creepy way but like trying to read my mind or something. He's got confidence up the ying yang and yet he still hasn't asked me out. Maybe he's gay? No, I can't see that. He exudes a s.e.x appeal that every girl in school is drooling over. Could we all be fooling ourselves? Well, at least it seems to be over with Francine. She was all over Troy Hutchins this week and appears to have forgotten to make my life a living h.e.l.l, bonus!
As I start sticking pencils in my braids the doorbell chimes, is Dad expecting Age today? She's probably coming for dinner tonight a we always have a big spread on the weekend and tonight is Italiano Sunday, viva meatb.a.l.l.s and stinky cheese! Dad's voice interrupts my precision pencil placement into the back knot of my hair.
"Uh, Stella you have a visitor," I hear Dad as I turn around expecting to see Gabby as my jaw hits my knees on the way to the floor.
"Hey Stella, sorry for barging in on you without calling." Ash is standing in my kitchen. MY kitchen. With my Dad - s.h.i.+t, my Dad!
I fumble to stand up and a shower of pencils fall from my hair, oh my G.o.d, why am I such a freak?
It takes a moment for me to close my mouth and regain some sort of composure, "Uh, no worries, what are you doing here? I mean, what's up?" Did I sound casual enough? Dad's frowning, nope.
"Oh, um Dad, this is Asher Grey. He's taking French with me this semester."
"I introduced myself on the way in, it really is nice to meet you Sir, I've heard a lot about you," Ash replies.
"Funny I haven't heard a st.i.tch about you. Ash, is it?" Gee thanks Dad. He says his name like it's some sort of venereal disease.
"Well, I'm new in town, just getting used to the place and settling in I guess."
"Who are your parents?" What's with the inquisition? I glare at him in annoyance.
"My Dad's name is Robert, Robert Grey. Right now he's traveling for work and we're renting the old Peller estate near Jericho. My Mom pa.s.sed away when I was little."
"Just you by yourself over in that big old place?" What is he so bristled about? I mean he just told us his Mom is dead. Frig Dad, chill pill.
"Nope, never alone. We have a few full time staff and my Aunt Luce is staying with me until he returns from France." Staff? Perhaps he has some valid reasons after all to be leery of some young rich punk showing up on his doorstep asking to see his only daughter.
"Oh. Ok. Well then, I suppose welcome to Alessa," Dad says flatly with no real attempt an an actual welcome. "I'll leave you to it I guess. Stella I'll just be out in the barn sharpening my axes. Let me know if you need anything. Anything at all." He gives him what could only be described as the evil eye, but on Dad it looks more like he has just been sprayed with mace. After he heads outside, Ash takes a deep breath.
"Wow, I'd better watch my back then eh? Should I sleep with one eye open tonight?"
"Ah he's harmless really. Although they never did find that poor b.u.g.g.e.r who took me home four minutes past curfew last fall; quite the mystery disappearance," I say with a grin, which quickly fades as I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Just great. Yesterday he sees me covered in sweat, today I'm sporting pink pj bottoms, and an old, holey sweat s.h.i.+rt. My stock is quickly plummeting. I pull the last of the pencils out of my rats nest.
"I see. Well I guess I had better adhere to the rules then," he says still staring at me.
"I'd say that'd be wise. Which rules do you need to brush up on? I've got a plethora to choose from."
"I think the rules of dating his daughter would be a good place to start."
My skin starts to sweat instantly. I'm sure I'm as red as a hot poker. Why can't I handle stress with grace like my last name suggests? All I can do is stand there, and stare like a weirdo. Words have failed me yet again in my time of need.
"Wow, I guess I expected a little more encouragement then a blank stare Stella, you're starting to crush my ego a little bit," he says, leaning over the island, placing his elbows down and plays with a large silver ring around his left ring finger. He looks back up to me with a half smile spinning the ring around in a nervous gesture.
"s.h.i.+t Ash, sorry, you just took me by surprise. Hey wait a sec, how did you know where I lived?"
"You told me yesterday, in the park, remember?" He isn't quite smiling anymore. "And I think you've just dodged the question."
"Sorry, you just caught me a little off guard. You could have at least given me some notice so I could change out of my jammies you know."
"Sorry for coming unannounced, I just wanted a chance to talk to you without the whole school watching our every move. Plus I thought if I waited for cla.s.s, Gabriella would be sure to shoot me down for you. I thought I would ambush you at home instead," he says looking way too adorable. "Plus I think your jammies are really hot. I don't normally go for polka dots, but you can certainly rock them."
The way he's looking at me, I feel like I'm blus.h.i.+ng from my cheeks down to my toes. My stomach is br.i.m.m.i.n.g with b.u.t.terflies and a strumming vibration.