Disclaimer: It's the usual crap: I do not own anyone of these characters but Amara. She is mine, all mine! And just so you know, some random characters, possibly from Harry Potter or something may pop up later in the story. So if they do, I do not own them, either. Duh.
The sound of young female laughter reached Artemis and Butler's ears. A few tables to their right were a table of five teenage girls, all about 16 years old or so. Artemis surveyed them with disinterest. They weren't particularly spectacular, although the bleach blonde was "a looker", as he had heard some of the snobby boys that went to Saint Bartleby's, the prep school he attended when not on a mission.
But it was the girl with her back to him that caught his attention. She was the only one without dark or dyed hair; rather, it was a red-gold color that didn't come from a bottle or a salon that curled slightly at the ends. She was, from what he could see of her, extremely pale with freckles, and was almost falling out of her chair laughing. Several other people at nearby tables were looking at them. She tried to calm herself down, but because her friends were laughing too, it was next to impossible for the girl.
Butler watched Artemis look at the group of girls with amusement on his face. Finally, the young boy—young man, as he now was—was getting interested in the opposite sex. About time, he thought. Butler glanced at his watch. The girl who would be spending the summer with Artemis and himself was late. To be honest, Butler felt sorry for that poor girl, who would be unused to Artemis and his ways.
The red-gold haired girl also looked at her watch, exclaimed that she was late (with an American accent, Artemis noted), and said goodbye to her friends. She looked around at the different tables, and spotted Artemis and Butler. She walked slowly over to them and inquired, "Are you Artemis Fowl II and Butler?" Artemis looked at her coolly and said, "Yes. Who is asking?"
"Oh gosh, I'm sorry. My name is Amaranta, but please, call me Amara. I am supposed to-"
"Yes, yes," cut in Artemis impatiently. "You are late."
"I-I'm sorry. I lost track of the time. I haven't seen my friends in a long time, so I was caught up," replied Amara.
Butler sighed, and looked at Artemis. "We'd better get going, sir." "Yes," was the curt answer. "The limo is waiting."
Amara was led to a sleek black limo, where the taciturn Butler loaded her luggage into the truck. He slid into the driver's seat, after opening the door for both Artemis and Amara. Great, she thought. I'm stuck here in the back with Lord Pompous Prick-Boy. Outwardly, she tried to smile and said, "So, how old are you?" "Sixteen," came the short reply. "Where do you go to school?" she tried again. "Why do you wish to know, Miss Amaranta?"
"Please call me Amara," she replied, slightly irked. "Fine, Miss Amara, why do you want to know?" came the irritated question. "Please, don't call me Miss. And I want to know because I am making polite conversation. Does that satisfy you?"
"No, it does not," Artemis replied with a smirk. Amara smirked back. This was going to be an interesting summer.
Suddenly, a strange tune (to Artemis) filled the car. Amara laughed suddenly, then reached into her pocket to pull out her cell phone. "Hello?" she answered, glaring at Artemis, who was smirking. She was quiet for a few minutes, and Artemis thought, Finally! Why does she insist on chatting about the stupidest things? Girls!
As he was lost in thought, he didn't notice the change in Amara's face, going from annoyance to anger to concern. "Oh he did NOT," she said loudly, startling Artemis out of his reverie and as Artemis was about to snap at her, he saw her face. It was a mix of anger, concern, fear, and dislike. Although she was practically boring a hole through his head, he knew the look was not meant for him.
"Jess, you MUST tell me what he has done. I need to know if I am to help you!" Silence for a few seconds, and muted sobbing sounded throughout the compartment of the limo. "Shh, shh, it's okay. You'll be fine, you'll be okay. I'll get it done tonight." Quiet once more. "Oh don't you worry, Jessie, that bastard won't know what's hit him when I'm through with him." Silence. "How, you ask? Hon, I have connections. Leave it to me. Okay? All right. Call me if you need anything, even if it's three in the morning here and I try to bite your head off." Amara laughed. "Okay. Bye." She closed her phone and put it back in her pocket.
"Sorry," she said, smiling apologetically. Artemis shrugged. "My friend's father won't leave her alone. I need to get a restraining order for him." "In one night?" asked Artemis. "I have…connections," she smiled secretively. And five minutes and three phone calls later, Amara had the restraining order written and put into action. Artemis was, against his will, impressed. At first sight, Amara had just seemed to be your typical teenage girl with raging hormones, not a care for the world, but only for her appearance, friends, boys, and the media. It proved that appearances did not tell all.
"So, do you like sports?" asked Amara amiably. Artemis stared, then spat, "Sports! I, mademoiselle, interested in sports?" "I guess not," muttered Amara. She liked to run long distance, swim, dance, and to cycle. Artemis read her face and said, "We do, however have exercise facilities at the manor, if you wish to use them." Amara smiled. Maybe things wouldn't be that bad, she thought.
