Cecil leaned over the keyboard irritably. He shoved his purple headphones off his head, let them hang around his neck, the music still humming quietly through the air.
"What's wrong? Writer's block again?" Sloane glanced over, her green eyes twitching with amusement.
Cecil adjusted his violet Ray Bans, before pulling them off and giving them a couple swipes with his shirt.
"No, I can't figure out how to word this sentence. See?" He turned the computer monitor towards her.
Sloane brushed a red curl behind her ear, and leaned over towards the monitor.
"Which sentence?"
"The one highlighted in purple."
It read, "I think the best way to die, would be 'Swallowed by a Giant Snake.' Going feet first and whole into a slimy maw would give your life perfect symmetry."
Sloane grimaced as she read, gave Cecil a questioning glance, and said, "Cecil, I don't there is any problem with the wording of the sentence, but there is a major problem with the content of the sentence."
Cecil frowned. "What's wrong with it?" he grumbled, defensively turning the screen back towards him once more.
"You were supposed to be writing a reply to Stacey's letter? Remember? About the fifty snakes on her back patio? And how she is dreadfully afraid of them?"
"Oh." He stared blankly at the screen for a moment. "Oh. That was the assignment. I had forgotten."
"Yeah," Sloane nodded, "Don't think she would have felt less worried about the snakes on her porch. I'm pretty sure she would have never gone home again, after imagining being swallowed whole into a slimy maw."
Cecil sighed, and held down the backspace button for a moment or so. "I don't know why Leanne thought it would be a good job for me to do the Dear Cecil column for the paper. I'm terrible at it."
Sloane shrugged, returned to typing her own article. "Probably because everyone who has ever written the Dear Cecil column for the school paper has been named Cecil, and since you are the only male named Cecil in the Newspaper club, she automatically gave you the job."
He groaned melodramatically, spun around in the swivel chair four times, and slammed his hands down onto the keyboard. "You're so lucky Sloane. You get to write down news. Actual news. I'm just solving problems for the people I don't even like at school."
Sloane grinned, continued typing. "You're just mad that Leanne forced you to write a response to Steve's letter."
"I hate Steve Carlsburg. He is a disgrace to Night Vale High, and to Night Vale." He hissed, typing in big bold letters on his computer screen, STEVE CARLSBURG DESERVES DEATH.
Sloane gently pushed Cecil's hands away, erased the sentence, and then sighed. "You're going to have to forgive him one of these days."
"I will never forgive Steve Carlsburg. Never."
Leanne rounded the corner, her golden hair put back into an overly hair sprayed bun, her mouth pulled upwards into a forced, and pink lipstick stained smile. She was a junior, and thought she ruled the world. Or at least, thought she ruled Night Vale High. The problem with that was, no one honestly liked or respected her. She couldn't even really be considered popular. But everyone felt like they HAD to listen to her, and while most people just blamed it on how manipulative she was, Cecil always thought her unquestionable power was due to dark magic. But that was just Cecil.
"How are you two doing? I need the articles out by tomorrow night, if we're going to publish them on Wednesday." She said this all in a tangled rush, not stopping to make clear pauses between her sentences.
"I'm almost done with my article." Sloane pointed to the screen, gave Leanne a smile. That was Sloane for you, your stereotypical straight A student. Sloane wasn't what you would call popular, but everyone liked her, and no one ever picked on her. She always tried her hardest to make people smile, even if she didn't know them, and no one had ever seen her say a rude or condescending word to anyone. It was impossible NOT to like her.
"Sloane, you're such a doll. What could I ever do without you? You are not only one of the most prompt, put together girls I have ever met, but you are probably the best writer in this whole school." She smiled her scarily large smile for a moment, before adding in a rush, "Well, except for me of course."
"Thank you, Leanne, but you know that's not true. I'd say Cecil is just a good writer, same with Vithya and Jerry."
Cecil beamed with pleasure, spun lazily in the chair for a moment.
"Um, no. No. Cecil is definitely not, neither is Vithya. They are both way too flowery and poetic for news. Jerry is alright, I suppose, but then again, he's only the photographer." Leanne still smiled, but her eyes were cold.
Sloane saw Cecil's eyes flash, his lips tighten, his fists clinch… She quickly reached for his hand, grabbed it in hers, and gave him a reassuring smile.
Cecil's eyes cooled, but she could still feel the anger pulsating through his hands.
"Aw, look at you cuties." Leanne crooned, gave Sloane an embellished wink. "I'll leave you two alone."
Sloane quickly removed her hand, blushed for a moment, and straightened a loose red strand of hair. "We're not like that." She explained hurriedly. Leanne's smile only grew, while Cecil brooded in his chair, polishing his headphones.
"Of course not. What was I thinking. Anyhow, got to rush off, I have a class meeting, Ta-ta."
Cecil groaned exaggeratedly. "I hate when she says that."
"Ta-ta?"
"How much dumber can she make herself sound?" He continued, letting out another heaving sigh.
They were silent for a moment, the awkwardness of the past few moments still hung in the air like a fog. Sloane considered saying something, but instead, just stared blankly at the computer screen. She rubbed her hand softly, feeling the calloused places on her finger tips from long hours at the keyboard.
"Um… sorry, I didn't mean to, embarrass you like that…" Sloane began awkwardly, typing slowly, with fake concentration.
"Huh? What are you,"
"What Leanne said." She interrupted. It was a tone too loud. The blush crawled back up into her cheeks as she watched Cecil's confused, almost amused face. "What Leanne said." She repeated softly. "About us. You know."
"Oh." He paused. "Nah, it was fine. I mean, you know, it really, no, it was fine." Cecil stopped, shook his head, and started to intensely polish his glasses. "That sounded really weird." He muttered under his breath.
"No, no, you're fine. I sounded way weirder." She stopped for a moment, inwardly smacked herself for sounding so stupid. "Wait, no. I didn't mean," Cecil raised an eyebrow, and chuckled.
"Yes?"
"Ignore me." Sloane gave up trying to save her strange sentence, turned back to the computer monitor.
There were more chuckles from Cecil's side. "Alrighty then."
He said it was fine. Just let it go, you shouldn't have even brought it back up.
She looked over at Cecil, typing furiously, his purple glasses askew over his disheveled mop of blond hair. He had his tongue pursed out of the corner of his lip, which meant he was in extreme concentration. She was about to try and make some small talk about the city council, which was always a good path to go when there was nothing else to talk about, but just as she had opened her mouth, he already had his yanked his purple headphones back on again.
She smirked, out of annoyance and amusement; he did look so cute when he was writing.
Cute? CUTE?! She stopped, shook her head, and closed her eyes. No. She refused to be romantically interested in Cecil Palmer. What on earth was she thinking?! She had grown up with him, after all. They had lived in the same apartment building from third grade on. And no one, no one, knew her like Cecil. He had been there when she had lost her first tooth, and had even helped her fill out the City Council's paperwork for teeth loss. When dust storms arose, and shook and wailed with unearthly moans around their apartment building, Cecil had always been the one she had run to. They would cuddle up in their fleece blankets, sitting on his bed, each snuggled against the other, listening to prerecorded cassette tapes of Leonard Burton on NVCR. But that had been in the fourth grade, and that was a "just friends" thing.
No. She did not have a crush on Cecil Gershwin Palmer. That, that was unthinkable. She focused on the article, ignored his presence.
At least she tried. But Sloanne could still feel the unexplainable static filled tingle in the palm of her hand that Cecil's mere touch gave her. It wasn't exactly uncomfortable, but very weird, and it made her a tad giddy. She leapt out of the swivel chair, headed for the newspaper office door.
"Hey!" She spun around, and saw Cecil give her a perplexed smile. "I thought we were going to get subs together after we finished."
She paused, and she averted her glance, brushed some red curls over her cheeks to hide the blush creeping into them. "Ah, yeah, um." She thought a moment, tried to think of an excuse, "Um, I forgot. I really need to go study for the history test Monday, and,"
"We don't have a history test. Remember? That's the other class. Our test is two weeks from now." Cecil interrupted.
Oh, damn it Cecil.
"Yeah, I know. Uh, I just am not doing really well in history, and I want to study ahead. You know how hard those tests are." She explained weakly. "But really, I should go study."
Cecil's face dropped, but he mustered a smile onto his face, and grinned, "Well, OK, good luck with your studying. I guess I'll see you in Biology, right?"
"Uh, yeah. Bye!" She turned, shoved open the doors and darted out before she could hear him say another word. Her heart pounded wildly, and she couldn't even understand why. The smell of antiseptic and bleach filled the hallway air, as a janitor mopped idly in endless circles. Sloane skidded over the newly washed floors, almost slammed into the row of blue lockers, and just as she avoided a backpack laid on the floor, her shoulder made contact with a handful of books, and she toppled into a boy.
"Whoa!" he yelped, as the books and folders scattered onto the damp floor. Several papers started soaking up the bleachy water, and the textbooks' open pages started getting soggy.
"Oh my gosh, I'm so, so sorry." Sloane wailed, reached down to help pick up the dispersed mess. "Ugh, today has not been my day."
"No, no it's fine." He looked up through black spectacles, and the first thing Sloane noticed was how perfectly gorgeous his eyes were. They were dark and caramel colored, but when the skylight shone a ray of light on his face, the center lit up like gold. Also, his hair was perfect. There were no words for his dark, curly hair. It was messy, but in a very attractive, perfect way. And it was dark, not black, not brown, but it was just very perfect. She handed him a biology textbook, and a few other notebooks, still staring at him in unabashed awe.
"Is, something wrong?" He asked in a timid, awkward voice.
She stopped staring, and let out a little gasp of embarrassment. "Oh, sorry! No! I was just, sorry, but has anyone ever told you how absolutely perfect your hair is?"
"Um, I don't think so," he started, instinctively reaching up to his perfect mop of curls,
"And your eyes are super gorgeous. Wow. I've never met anyone with such gorgeous eyes in my life."
She handed him another textbook, while he flashed her a quiet smile. "Thanks."
He gathered the books together, and started to organize them into categories before placing them carefully in his stainless black backpack, and carefully zipping up the zipper all the way.
Just like Cecil. Sloane thought amusedly, and wondered if Cecil had ever met him before. Come to think of it, she had never seen this perfect haired stranger before in her life.
"Hey," she said, as an afterthought, "Are you new or something? I don't remember seeing you in class before, but that's definitely my biology textbook."
He stopped, and shook his head, "No, I'm pretty sure that's my biology text book. See, I just got these books from the office, and,"
She laughed. "No, no, not like that's MY biology text book, I mean, that's the same textbook I have, but I've never seen you in class before."
He thought about this for a moment, and smiled. "Oh. Yes, I just moved here this past week. I'm going to be finishing the rest of sophomore year with you. It's nice to meet you."
He held out his hand. "I'm Carlos."
"I'm Sloane. Hey! Maybe we'll be in the same biology class, and end up being lab partners or whatever."
He smiled, "That would be nice. Maybe we will! I love science. It's my passion."
"Ooh, really? What kind of science?"
Carlos shrugged. "I just like science. All science. Not like plants and animal science, just science." He clarified seriously, shouldering the backpack, and checking his watch. "What time is lunch over?"
"Actually, we're at the end of the period before lunch. I just got out of Newspaper a little early so I could study for history." Sloane said, blushing a little as she remembered the reason she had been so intent on leaving Newspaper in the first place. "I can show you where the cafeteria is though."
"Oh, you do Newspaper? How's that?" Carlos asked, following Sloane down the hall.
"I love Newspaper, but it's kinda stressful, deadlines and all that. Sometimes the editor doesn't like what I write, and she makes me start all over, but most of the time it's just fun."
"That's nice." He smiled, holding open the cafeteria door for Sloane. She thanked him quickly, and sat down at her usual spot. She pulled her backpack open, flipped open her history textbook, and started to skim through it. Carlos sat down next to her, and as he filled in some paper work for some un-named project, they made small talk about Night Vale, the high school, the best teachers, the worst classes, and about Carlos's family.
As lunch began, and classes started letting out, Sloane looked around for Cecil, but surprisingly, he didn't show. She pushed it out of her mind, guessing that he probably just wanted to finish up his article, or maybe he was eating at one of the back tables with Earl Harlan, his best friend from Boy Scouts. She considered going to find him and introduce him to Carlos, but then decided against it. After all, Cecil wasn't the most outgoing guy in the world, and what if he felt jealous of her new friendship with some guy other than him? What if he got stopped talking to her, or started talking to some other, She stopped. No, Cecil would meet Carlos when he met him.
Carlos and Sloane walked together to biology, since it just happened that they DID have the same class, and Sloane invited Carlos to sit with her and Cecil.
Oh, shoot. Cecil!
Cecil waltzed into class, exactly three minutes late, as usual. His headphones were on, and as he slid into the seat next to her, it sounded like he was listening to his favorite album, Chants and Moans as Sung by Deaf Monks. She tapped him on the shoulder, as her typical 'hello.' He turned, flashed her a grin, and waved his printed article at her. She applauded silently, and gave him a fist bump. She then motioned over to Carlos, who had been observing the whole wordless conversation. He gave Cecil a quick smile, and a wave, before turning back to writing the biology notes. Cecil's eyes widened, and he gulped quietly. He blinked a few times, before removing his glasses, gave them a few cursory wipes, put them back on, and continued staring at Carlos, with an expression of complete disbelieve and wonder.
He grabbed a purple pen, and scribbled,
Who IS that?
Sloane grinned, and replied in her neat, dark handwriting,
He's new. That's Carlos.
Cecil glanced over, and gave him another appraising look.
Dannnnnnng. He wrote, going back and underlining the word with a few lines for emphasis.
Sloane raised an eyebrow. Cecil, really?
Don't tell me you don't think he's cute. Look at him. He's freaking perfect.
Cecil looked at her, hard, for a long moment, before she sighed, and wrote,
Yeah yeah he's pretty perfect.
Exactly.
Cecil didn't write anything else, just picked up the piece of paper and crumpled it into a little ball, stuffed it into a corner of his backpack. He gave Carlos another glance, and hastily began work on taking notes. Sloane didn't even know what to think. She burned inwardly with disgust.
Great, not only is the guy I like someone I don't even WANT to like, but now he is obviously not interested in me, and he is interested in some guy I actually do WANT to like.
She groaned audibly without even thinking about it, and at the same moment, Carlos and Cecil both turned to check on her.
"You OK?" Carlos whispered.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. This is just super confusing, you know?"
Carlos shrugged. "I'm getting it OK."
Cecil gave her a questioning look, before incidentally meeting eyes with Carlos. They looked at each other for what seemed forever to Sloane, before both darted down to scribble something in their notebooks. She bit her lip, and tried to force back another groan of disgust.