Ah, Christmas is getting closer!! This has nothing to do with the story, but I'm happy! xD Ah, and here's chapter nine. :3
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All's Fair in Love and Lies
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Chapter Nine
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The impact was less painful than I expected it to be, but frustration filled in for the lack of hurt. I sat up and glared at the tree. The branch I had fallen from was lying in front of me, with its jagged birthplace exposing the undisturbed bird.
"DAMMIT, YOU SPARROW!" I yelled furiously, shaking my fist in its direction. "WHY AREN'T YOU A CHICKEN!?"
"...I truly hope that that question is rhetorical," came a voice from behind me. No, under me. I looked over my shoulder and saw that I had landed squarely on top of none other than Gill.
I was so startled and mortified that I actually shrieked before jumping to my feet. "Gill! Oh—G-Goddess—I—I—I'm so—s-sorry—I didn't s-see—"
He didn't say anything. Just cleared his throat, straightened his shirt, and sat up. I couldn't read the look on his face.
"...It's a long story," I mumbled, attempting hide my burning face.
"I'm sure it is."
I self-consciously shifted my weight from one leg to the next, then offered my hand to help him up; however, he ignored it and stood up on his own. So, in order to avoid an awkward silence, I bit my lip and asked, "Er...what are you doing here, anyway? This is a long way away from the town hall."
"I was discussing certain things with Ramsey, mostly financial issues." He gave me a you-wouldn't-be-interested look, then smirked slightly and added, "Shortly after I finished I happened to notice you and Luke run into this forest like madmen. Naturally, I was curious."
...Ugh. I blushed. "Um...we were horseback riding and...Renee's chickens got loose and stuff...and, er..." I really did not want to explain this to anyone, especially Gill. At the time I'd felt nothing but adrenaline, but now...
At that point, Luke—what's the word?—exploded into the scene. Saved by the bell. "Look! Look! I found it!" he cried, brandishing the runaway chicken.
I almost had a heart attack. "Uh, I don't think you should be holding it like that..."
"Whaaat?"
"She means you're about to wring its neck, you imbecile," Gill said, rolling his eyes.
Luke jumped back a few steps, not having noticed Gill's presence.. "Hey, when'd you get here?" he asked.
"Luke...the chicken..."
He didn't seem to be paying attention. Then, when he suddenly flashed a devious smile, I realized with horror that he had been plotting something. "Right, I should give this back to Renee!" he said, then gave me a conspicuous wink. "But there's no reason for you to go all the way back, too, so you can stay if you want."
Damn you, Luke. Before I got a chance to protest, he skipped off in the direction of Brownie Ranch, leaving me behind. I wanted to throw a rock at him, but that probably would have given too much information away.
"Is there something I'm missing?" inquired Gill when he saw my face.
"No. Definitely not." My voice pitched a little too high.
If it had been within Gill's oh-so eloquent vocabulary to say "Yeah, suuuure," then at that point he would have. I sighed at the look on his face. This guy was starting to damage my self-esteem.
Option A: I tell him that I didn't understand what Luke meant.
Option B: Flee.
Option C: I stay and chat.
Result A: He thinks I'm an idiot.
Result B: Luke calls me a scaredy-cat and drags me back.
Result C: I say something retarded.
Joy.
Luckily, though, right then my Messiah came to me in clipboard form. During my epic fail—I mean, fall—Gill seemed to have dropped his work, which I presently stooped down to pick up. The foreground was just boring text about stuff that I could barely even read, but it was the sides of the paper that caught my interest.
In the lower margin, someone—Gill—had lightly drawn the image of an oak tree. The loose pencil lines swept around perfectly to capture the shape and even a bit of texture. It was rough and sketchy, but beautiful.
That was all I managed to glimpse before the clipboard was snatched out of my hands. Stunned, I looked up at Gill, who had suddenly developed a bit of color in his cheeks.
"That's really good."
"It's nothing."
"No really," I said honestly. "I had no idea you were an artist."
He shook his head. "I'm not."
"Yes, you are. Nobody is born that good. You must practice a lot."
"I don't." I could tell from his terse answers that he was becoming flustered.
"I mean it," I encouraged. "You should be proud of your talent. I can't draw to save my life."
He averted his gaze. "It was just a sketch," he muttered.
"I believe the correct term is 'doodle'," I said. I ignored him rolling his eyes again. "You know what I think? I think that even the almighty Gill gets bored sometimes."
He made a face. "What is that supposed to mean?"
I smiled and casually took his hand. "Come on. I'm gonna teach you how to have fun."
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Dang, shortness! :P Christmastime is taking over my brain. Hehehe. Bye-bye!