Things had permanently changed between me and Cordelia. But it seemed like the world around us had also transformed into something different. The moment I walked into the dining room the next morning, I felt the girls' eyes on my skin. They laughed, blushed, and nudged one another, and yet nobody came talk to me. They studied me from behind, from a distance, thinking I couldn't see them. A source of entertainment that cannot be anything more. I felt like a circus bear no one knew how to handle.
Zoe came next to me and greeted, but I kept my eyes on the table. Her voice contained extra lightness, sort of a patronizing tone, so to speak. If my eyes hadn't been fixated to my plate, I would've seen an equally patronizing smile. Anything she talked about was just the extension of her intrusive curiosity, a mask that differentiated her and the other girls. Well, she was no different than the other girls on the inside.
Feeling like a circus monkey –though an upgrade from a bear– my gut told me to leave the site as soon as possible. I almost downed the solid eggs and stood up. I grabbed some candy, made a tea, and headed to Cordelia's office.
I'm not quite sure when this routine was established, but I felt obligated, responsible to remind her that she had to take a break once in a while. A day at the coven would start at around 9 or 10 in the morning, depending on which class one had to attend. But the morning would begin way earlier for the Supreme. "The evil in the world doesn't sleep. I can't waste a second in my bed," she would say. I loved that side of her. She was caring, dedicated, and brave like that. Since then, I would visit her office every morning with some refreshments, because she never remembered to go easy on herself.
As I reached her office, I saw the door was not entirely shut like usual. The room, which was generally the most tranquil, trouble-free place of the coven, had its serene air spoiled by Hollywood. Neither she nor Cordelia seemed to notice my presence as I stood in the doorway.
"Come on, Cordy. Spill it. We all know what you were doing with swamp bitch last night," Madison smirked as her cigarette created a swirly bridge between her and the ceiling. "I saw your creepy smile when I walked in. It must've been hella good, huh? Who would've thought the hillbilly knew how to fuck a girl."
"Madison, for the twentieth time, no. Get out of my hair. I'm not telling you anything."
"Whatever, I'm going to ask Nan, then." Madison exhaled cigarette smoke, a visible veil of her sassiness and smugness encompassing her petite figure. Her eyes met mine, before scrutinizing me up and down. "Oh, look who's here," she purred, smiling her vulgar smirk at Cordelia. "Your knight in shining armor." Her gaze returned to me. It felt like a snake slithering on my skin, looking for the perfect, softest spot of my body to sink her fangs in. At last, she tilted her head with a confused and disappointed expression. "Where are your hickies? Why aren't you wearing any?"
"Madison." Cordelia's tone was reprimanding as she stood by the desk. Her shoulders were tense, her chin up, lips firmly closed shut. Her signature look of a first warning. Nervous and rigid, even awkward, but still with a hint of authority in her voice.
Of course, it didn't even make Madison squirm. Her answer was a lopsided smile and a raised brow. "I guess Queenie and I owe Zoe 10 bucks." She threw another smirk at me before exiting the room. "Don't forget to lock the door."
The room was unnervingly quiet without her. The storm was gone, but just like any other storms, she had left its pieces of hell.
"I'm so sick of her," Cordelia let out an exacerbated sigh. Her hand went up to caress her forehead, smoothing out the knotted brows. "She always finds a way to pick on me. She really knows how to push my buttons."
"I know what ya mean. She does that ta me also." I put the tray of tea and candy down on the desk, stealing a glance at her.
Her whole body seemed to glow even after the anarchic encounter with Madison. I could almost see a halo, or was it the sunlight reflecting against the white wall? Her neat curls danced around her shoulders, which were half-hidden under a black dress. The dress had red and blue flowers printed across it, floating like the bi-colored Milky Way on the pitch dark night sky. I saw some bruises on her neck, dark purple spots on the saintly flawless skin. It looked like they were the children of the red and blue flowers on her dress. I blushed when I realized it was me who'd done that.
The corners of her mouth turned slightly upwards. Taking small but confident steps, she put her hand on my waist. Her other hand played with my wild strands. "Maybe you should whack her ass like you did before. Her brain might as well be located in the ass. Some whooping will make her remember the lessons she's forgotten." She winked at me in mischief.
I bit my lips to suppress my laughs. "Don't let the little ones hear ya say that."
Cordelia answered with chuckles. The hand in my curls moved up to cup my cheek, her thump stroking my bottom lip. My face colored as the images of us from last night appeared behind my eyelids. I cleared my throat, which caused her eyes to snap back at mine. There was only a small gap between our faces. I could've seen myself in her dilated eyes if I'd tried.
"Last night was…amazing," Cordelia said in a low voice.
"Yeah?" My heart picked up speed as she put her hands on my hipbones, pulling our bodies closer. We both wore knee-length dresses, and my knees touched hers. I could feel her skin. It sent tingling coolness up my spine.
She nodded. Her eyes glimmered in a color that I had never seen. They were daring, predatory even. "It's all I can think of actually…" She kept smiling until our lips connected.
Even if I had known how to respond, the answer would've been swallowed into it. Gripping my waist, she backed me against the wooden desk. The kiss was nothing like the ones we'd shared before, though I couldn't completely put a finger on what was so different. It was rough, rushed, desperate, and raw to the very core, as though it was the continuation of what we'd shared last night. It left me disoriented, so much that I could only focus on the movement of our lips. The rest of my body was losing strength as though it was absorbed into her mouth. I rested my hands on her shoulders for support. I was totally at the mercy of Cordelia.
And then I felt her hands, moving down to my thighs, drawing small circles across my bare skin with her thumbs.
"You really shouldn't be walking around with your legs on display like that," she breathed out. Our lips still close to each other, her breath was hot on my face. "I won't be able to get anything done."
Her mouth returned to mine yet again. I felt my ears burn. Every word that spilled out of her mouth felt like a hot needle, poking my skin and leaving red dots everywhere.
Behind me, the laptop made a popping sound, an overly happy sound for notification. It ripped its way through the soundless heat between us. Cordelia eyed at the device shortly, before breathing out a disappointed sigh.
"I should get back to work. I have paper work up to my ears."
To be honest, I felt a flood of relief washing away the tight knot in my heart. Either feeling bold or reckless, Cordelia seemed to pay little attention to the fact that we were in the office, outside our bedroom. I decided not to imagine what would've happened if nothing had interrupted us.
I turned my head and looked at the mountains of files. "Ok, I'll let ya go. Don't forget ta take a break though." Steadying myself on feet, I chinned at the tray.
"I won't, I promise." Cordelia held her hands up in the air playfully.
"Ya bet your ass."
"Don't let the little ones hear you say it," she called out.
I took a last glance at her in the door way. Her eyes were already back to her work, which gave me an opportunity to thoroughly admire the view. The large windows let in the sunlight through the lacy curtains. Cordelia stood almost in the center of the tiny, radiant office. It seemed, at least to my eyes, like she was absorbing all the light into her body. I could easily believe she was made of sunlight.
I didn't know much about art. My parents didn't care about it. But my mama kept a small picture of a painting she'd cut out of a magazine a long time ago. She kept it in a sorry excuse of a frame and hung it on a wall. She never figured out what it was called or who painted it. The woman in the painting stood by a window, holding a balance in her hand. Her head was covered in a white cloth, her sunlit face serene like she had the whole world in front of her. "It's like lookin' at an angel, ain't it?" mama used to tell me.
She was ashamed of it, though. Ashamed of worshipping something other than the Lord. But the secular angel was too precious for her to let go. I knew, though it was never and would never be verbalized, that she would go to hell for it. The painting was an epitome of her sin, the only sin in her lonesome life.
Surrounded by the tall walls, standing among the books and plants, Cordelia looked like the angel in the painting.
ooOooOoo
"Hey, what are you doing this Saturday night?" Queenie asked me one day.
It was one afternoon in the middle of the summer. The familiar songs of cicadas resonated in my ears, reminding me of my shack in the swamp. With many whiny teenagers residing in the academy, the building temperature was inevitably always lower than I could ever stand. Growing up in a village where the modern technology couldn't reach, I was never one to enjoy the artificial coolness.
The greenhouse was my sanctuary. Not just because the temperature was moderate in there, but also because plants made better friends than most of the girls. I belonged there. The plants knew it too.
Queenie, on the other hand, appeared to be a bit out of place, examining her surroundings with wary eyes. No wonder. Ever since the coven had entered a new era, I'd never seen anyone –except me and Cordelia– step into the greenhouse. Occasionally Zoe would come to fetch us for dinner, but she never dared enter. Having a visitor here was just as rare as a day without Madison causing any kinds of trouble.
"It's a movie night with Miss. Cordelia. Why?"
The response was accompanied by a nonchalant shrug. "We are going to a club. Party hard, you know, since the break starts this week. It's been helluva term. No one's gonna complain if we spread our wings too. What do you say?"
"Um…I dunno. I have ta ask Miss. Cordelia."
"You coming if she say yes?"
I took a pause. "What– What exactly are ya planning ta– like, what do ya do in a club?"
"Tons of stuff. Mainly alcohol, and dancing until you can't feel your feet. Meeting new people is fun too. Honestly, it's whatever you want it to be. Madison and I are gonna try to get lucky. Not…together, gross."
"Whatdaya mean?"
"I mean sex. It's been more than 3 months since the last time I got laid. Can you believe that? It's outrageous." Her voice sounded just like when her pizza had mysteriously disappeared a few weeks ago. Who knew this human voodoo doll could be such a drama queen.
The more important question was; what was so outrageous and offensive about not having sex for months? I'd seen Madison treat it like it was the end of the world. Anyone who had the issue was treated like a flu patient. "Do not come near me. I don't wanna catch your virginity," she once had said to one of the girls. And now Queenie was acting in a similar way.
"What? What's that look for?" She crossed her arms in front of her chest after catching me all confused and dumbfounded.
"Nothin'," I quickly shook my head. "Just wonderin' why you wanna have sex with a stranger."
"It could be anyone. Of course, the physical appearance is important, but you don't have to care about their personality. So, yeah, anyone will do, as long as they are good at it if you know what I mean."
I fiddled with leaves, unsure of what to say to that. Despite the fact that I lived with a pack of teenage girls, I never learned to properly engage in a conversation like that. Sex was the topic I was worst at. Not that I hated it; it was simply a matter of indifference. To me, it was like listening to people talk about the weather of another country. Boring, useless, and completely a waste of time. It wasn't even educational. The excitement and enthusiasm people show at the mention of sex never failed to baffle me. It was such a curious, weird sight.
Queenie sounded just like Madison, but I had to suppress the urge to tell her that. "We ain't nothing alike. That bitch is a nymphomaniac sociopath. I'm very much capable of love," she would've said.
"Anyway, am I right to assume that you're coming only if your girlfriend is coming with you?"
I grimaced at the wording. It didn't sound very pleasant in my ears. There was a thin thread of sarcasm woven into it, though I doubted it was a conscious act. I shrugged nonetheless. "Yeah."
Queenie left the place, mumbling something about having to ask someone to babysit the girls. The greenhouse regained its tranquility. The door –it had been left open by Queenie– allowed the summer breeze to waltz in. It swirled at my feet like Stevie's lyrics.
