You stared at me 'til your eyeballs smoked
Was it anger or love or the caffeine in your coke?
I searched my soul for the words to soothe you
But nothing that I did ever seemed to move you
Was it something that I did or didn't say
Are you okay
I wanna know, are you okay
-"Are You Okay" by Was Not Was
After the incident with Warren during Save the Citizen, the rest of the game was cancelled and people were sent to hang out on the lawn until regular schedule resumed. Layla insisted on taking me to the nurse, but she was an emotional wreck, crying all over the place and muttering under her breath things that no one else could hear. Marley didn't know what to do and so she hid herself in the changing rooms until lunch. Boomer spazzed in front of the school, screaming for medical attention because he thought I was dead. And Warren just bled on the gym floor, taking in the scene from outside the circle.
In the end, Warren and I were both taken to the nurse, where Warren was healed by a kid who worked with Nurse Spex during his gym hour and I was left under my heavy sleep induced by Layla's really cool power and depriving people of oxygen with her hand.
Marjorie took me home and left me in bed for an hour before she woke me up.
"You scared everyone," she said. "They didn't know what was wrong. Just that the game was over and you were still attacking."
I nodded from my spot on my bed. "Pretty much," I croaked. My throat had been so dry.
"What happened?"
I shrugged. "I don't know." Because I didn't.
Abel came home and checked me over, telling me to get some rest and relax and not overexert myself for the rest of the day.
I stayed up for the rest of the day, playing Pokémon on my Game Boy Pocket (90's kids, man, we are true to our nature!) until Abel came up with cream of wheat and berry juice. He warned me about overexertion again and then left my room to go calm a worrying Marjorie. I just ate my food and went on a Nerd Status until I heard a knock on my window.
I walk over to the window seat and sit down on the cushions. I lift the glass and try not to freak out because all of a sudden, Warren Peace is standing in my room in a Henley and sweatpants that really should be tighter around his hips if he doesn't want to get raped in an alleyway by a horny teenage girl. His hair is back in his standard French braid that reaches his shoulderblades and I try not to let my mind wonder on how he really needs to cut his hair or else he was really going to regret it when he clears his throat and I'm thrown back into my own reality of HOLY-SHIT-Warren-fucking-Peace-is-in-my-room-and-w here-did-he-get-my-address-from? Probably Layla. I'm disowning her. I'm done with her. She's no longer my family if she's handing out my address to hot guys in dangerous sweatpants.
"It's two o' clock in the morning," I pull my sweatshirt over my knees and hug them to me. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"Just wanted to make sure you were okay," he says, as if it's normal that – and I'm going to repeat it over and over until he's gone – he's in my room at two o' clock in the morning in sweatpants that are about to fall to his ankles, asking me if I'm okay. What. The. Actual. Fuck?
"Um, okay…" I blink a lot, because I don't know what else to do right now other than stare at him in this extremely awkward silence. There's also the bit where I don't have any pants on. "Why?"
He shrugs, opting to take a look around my room instead. His eyes roam over the soft rose-petal-red walls and the white swirls I've painted into them with touches and hues of silver to give them dimension. There are white Christmas lights giving light to my room because I refused to have just a single light bulb. One wall is covered floor to ceiling in a CD and record shelf. There's a big square in the middle that holds my record player. The wall connected to the right has a full-bodied collage of pictures I took back when I lived in Maine and since I've started living here and hanging out with Lucille, Mark, and Layla. I have several of Marjorie and Abel, and very little of my actual parents. He fingers one of those pictures.
"Your parents," he asks, breaking the loud silence around us.
I nod, "Yeah, those are them. I don't look anything like them, though. You can't really tell," I shrug.
He shakes his head, "No, you have your father's eyes."
"I wouldn't know," I whisper. "They died when I was four."
"Sorry."
It's quiet again, and I can feel my legs breaking out in goose pimples from the cold.
"Why are you making sure I'm okay," I ask him. "I'm not the one who got brutally attacked."
He turns back around to face me. "Maybe not, but I still hit you with the fireball. Your skin was burnt off. You looked like Two-Face for a moment." I cringe, because hearing it makes my cheek hurt. It's still tender and raw from the burn. My skin is still regenerating and healing from his offensive attack.
"I'm fine," I assure him.
"No you're not." I try to explain that I'm fine but he barrels on. "You attacked me even when the game was over. When I was down on the ground, you threw light shards at me. I lost a liter of blood because you freaked."
"I was just pissed from the fireball, okay?" I get up, ignoring my pantless form and make way for my bed so I can hide under my covers and pretend I'm three years old with no worries and a juicebox. Warren stops me with a hand to my arm. "Let me go or I will blast you."
"Bullshit," he growls. "Something's up and I'm going to find out what it is, Glitter Fingers."
I lift my other hand to smack him but he catches that one, too. I growl, a scream bubbling in the back of my throat, and thrash around in his grasp. He just grabs onto me tighter. I'm fed up and angry by the time his grip loosens on my wrists. His thumbs are rubbing soothing circles into my skin and warming the cool goosebumps into flat plains of skin. The action touches me, sends a shiver down my spine that feels delicious down to my toes. His hands let go of mine, but they fall down to my waist. His fingers are soft and rough all at once, hovering over my hips where my sweatshirt rides up to just below my naval.
Gah, I am so freaking cold right now…Oh, never mind, he's keeping me warm. Wait, why is he so close to me? Abort mission. Abort mission! ABORT MISSION!
His hands bunch up in my sweatshirt and his fists pull my chest to his. He lowers his face to mine and I'm sure he's going to lay a big lip smacker on me when he decides to be a tease and goes for my jaw-line. His lips run down the length of it, caressing the skin as he goes for the edge of my neck. Oh, god, this guy could get a girl pregnant just by looking at her. I'm probably going to be the new OctoMom, right now. One of his hands palms the skin at the small of my back. I'm groaning and breathing shallow and fast, now.
His lips touch my ear when it all goes to shit, "Tell me what really happened."
I touch my hands to his chest and blast him out the window with a force-field made of light and anger and maybe a little sexual frustration. Okay, a lot of that.
I stick my head at the window and look down at Warren. He's sitting up, rubbing his pounding head. "What was that for," he yelled.
"You know," I say, "the next time I let you try to seduce me, it better be so that I can actually have my way with you. Not because you want to find out some dark secret I supposedly have locked up."
I slam my window shut and lock it, trying so hard not to walk out of my house and out to Warren so that I can finish the stupid game he started.
"Layla," I mutter to my lonely room, "you better hope Mother Nature has a prayer for you when I see you."
I get up extra early just to get to Layla's house in time to wake her up. She's sleeping in her makeshift bed of three mattresses stacked on top of the other, drool dripping down her cheek and onto her wheat sack pillow case. She looks so sweet and innocent. It would be a shame if…someone…woke her up…crudely.
I flip her mattress over and send her onto her face. "Wake up, bitch."
"Uriel," she says, woken up and alert. "What's going on? Why did you call me that?"
I narrow my eyes at her. "You know why," I say. I point a perfectly manicured – wait, that's not a perfectly manicured finger! Oh wait, I was doing something.
"I don't know what you're talking about," she says as she rubs the sleep from her eyes.
I laugh maniacally for a moment, "Of course you do! Warren Peace, showing up at my fucking window at two o' clock in the godforsaken morning? You told him where I lived!"
She cocks her head to a side and for a moment, she looks like a dog who clearly doesn't understand a single thing her human is saying to her. She licks over her dry lips and says very slowly, "I didn't give Warren your address."
"What," I ask, because I really don't believe her right now.
"I said: I didn't give Warren your address."
"Well then, who did?"
"I'm not sure."
I have a stalker now. Great…
I go and mull the idea over in my head at Layla's kitchen counter. Auntie Josephine makes me some organic pancakes and tofu-bacon. I pick at my food for an hour until Layla runs down the stairs and tells me we have to leave for the bus. I shovel the food in my mouth in one, two, three forkfuls and run out the front door with her. Will is halfway to the stop when we get out.
I ride next to Ethan again, who compliments my polka-dot skirt and bright yellow blazer with a charming smile and assistance on my Hero Trig. I call him a saint and spend the rest of the bus ride trying to understand trigonometry.
When I sit down in Villain Psychosis II during second period, Warren is already sitting in his seat behind my desk. I slide in smoothly and pull out the homework assigned the first day. A note falls onto my desk.
I open it to find his blocky writing. Sorry about last night…
I write back to him, At least you had the decency to apologize, before send it back to him.
I just needed to make sure you're okay. Ugh, this again? Not like he cares anyway. What, is Warren Peace a gentlemen now?
It's okay, dude. Seriously, it pisses me off when people baby me. And BTW, I'm not hiding anything from you. There's nothing wrong with my mental stability or anything. No big secrets. I can hear him sneakily unfolding the note when the teacher starts writing notes on the board.
Promise?
I swear on my Best Man dress that is way too cute to be sworn on in the first place.
He snorts, which makes the teacher, Ms. Rivers, turn around and look at him. He hides the note under his textbook.
"Is there something funny you'd like to share with the class, Mr. Peace," she asks sternly.
"Um, no ma'am?"
"Is that an answer or a question?"
"No, ma'am. There is nothing funny I'd like to share." I hold in my laughter because Warren sounds scared and hurried. Ms. Rivers turns away to continue writing on the board. He throws the note back, Best, Man huh? Something you're not telling me? And did Stronghold finally put a ring on Hippie?
Trust me, Lady Parts intact. And, no, but I wouldn't be surprised if he did. He looks at her like she's the air he breathes.
Wouldn't be surprised if he cut off his oxygen when he wasn't around her. So who's getting married then?
Sister. She's marrying a Super doctor that prescribes meds that actually taste like the fruits they claim. He made me his Best Man because I let my sister's BFF take the Maid of Honor status.
Can I have his card, then? Milanta tastes like chalk.
Hahaha, I'll let him know his services are needed.
I think the note passing is done, but then I feel his hand creep down my arm and into my hand where he places the paper again. I unfold it, wondering what else he could have left to say to me. The result has me coughing after choking on my own air.
So…Having your way with me? How's that gonna happen?
I stare at the paper, eyes turning into saucers because I really wish he didn't remember that. I decide to turn the tables on him.
Are you seriously asking the girl YOU tried to seduce last night?
It worked, didn't it?
Touché…But you'd probably have to stop calling me ridiculous names like "Glitter Fingers" to actually have a chance.
It lands back on my desk too quickly. I'm sure he said no, but he surprises me again. I can work on that.
None of that tease stuff either. If you're gonna get a girl hot and bothered, you need to finish her off somehow.
I can definitely do that ;)
He drew a winky face at me. Forget OctoMom, I just birthed twenty children and have seven more on the way!
You won't do it, anyway.
What makes you think that?
I don't need another hook-up on my list of failed relations.
That's okay. I like a challenge.
