Chapter 3. Playing with fire
Part 1.
Brick's P.O.V
As I exit my classroom, finishing the progress measuring test before anyone else as usual, I notice something odd a couple classrooms down. A female I have never seen before is wandering the halls with a piece of paper in her hands, cheeks rosy and dark hair bundled up high on her head. Judging from the immature gleam I place her in the class under me.
Heels click softly against the tiles on the floor, purple tights showing of her wonderful legs, a dark tunika with long sleeves dancing suggestively around her. A blue scarf is wrapped around her throat, touching the base of her chin. Dark makeup frames the blue eyes. She's holding two books to her chest, hand steadily grasping the sheet between her index and thumb in front of her face; accommodating traffic, she is focused on reading. Without glancing up, she evades people, leap over obstacles, spin out of the way for anyone, and is still stuck in her own world. A phantom smile brushes her beautiful mouth.
This is the girl Butch is so obsessed with finding I realize.
«Stop,» I command, freezing everyone in place in the hallway. Scared eyes turn as best their sculpture body allows. Closing the distance between us, I end up at her side. «You stay, the rest can leave.» I meet her terrified gaze; it doesn't last longer than a split second. The news about last night must have hit the mundane heart pretty hard. Such a shallow person.
«You're a junior, right?» the voice sounds harsher than intended. I clear my throat casually.
«I am,» she answers, voice silky; just like her now relaxed face. A tone in it seems familiar. Had her soft gaze been hard, chest bloated in stead of slump shoulders, hair orange and eyes pink, I could understand why my mind would wander to her; but this person is nothing like my counterpart, yet something inside me place them in the same box. There is no way Red would succumb under me like this girl is. Not without a fight, that is. Ridiculous.
One of the books is advanced biology, matching my brute brother's description. No doubt about it, this is probably the girl he's looking for. Scoffing, I touch my chin tentatively. For a human, she was quite pleasant to look at. I wonder about her intellect.
«What's your name?» this time I'm asking her without pushing; without my powers. If she refuses to tell me, I can always make her. The undertone is meant to be calming and friendly, but it sounds more like the purr of an intrigued tiger.
«Lilly Lockwood.» She doesn't seem to notice the atmosphere, flashing me a kind smile. The previous nervousness have washed off, replaced with open interest. She's not scared of me at the moment. I cough once, not sure about the meaning of the twitch the corner of my lip does.
«You're a freshman, right? How do you like your classes so far?» I make an amiable conversation, mentally taking note for later teasing of my sibling.
«I am, and I enjoy them quite well. Every subject is so fascinating,» she lights up with a burning passion at the mention of her subjects. I take a swift, casual step closer, hands stuffing inside my jeans pockets.
«Do you not have a test today?» I arch an eyebrow. She bites her lip, tongue softly tracing the lower part of her lip before she smacks them. Quite pleasant to look at.
«I'm finished. It was easier than expected,» she gives me a bright smile. Definitely not Red, I conclude. Her personality is too close to the blonde, but if what she says is true, she's also too smart to be the blue puff.
«You don't say?» I narrow my eyes, taking in every aspect of her. A slight hue lingers on her cheeks. Interesting. She's intrigued with me, but not intimidated. That rarely to never happens unless I push them.
«Headed for the cafeteria?» I ask when she's reluctant to elaborate on my previous question.
«Library actually,» she weighs the book in her hand, flashing me a fictional read with the schools white tag on the top right corner. «If you would ever be so kind?» she bends her knees, attempting to move forward, but invisible cement is holding her back.
«Go on,» rolls of my tongue, and I clap my mouth shut before a 'sorry' almost escapes. Odd how the impulse kicked in with this one. She's peaked me in all the mysterious ways.
«Mind if I tag along?» I don't have to be polite, I don't have to ask to follow her, it's a free country, so it's more of a reflex than anything else. Butch always does what the hell he wants, and Boomer rarely care for others, so I've created this falsehood of politeness with mortals.
They do right in fearing me, I'm powerful and dangerous after all, but that doesn't mean I don't want to go anywhere in life with my own achievements and not just ride my powers, like Butch is aiming on doing.
«I don't,» she gives me another bright smile, eyes relaxed and dimples genuine. It hits me hard again how she doesn't fear me, even after the news of yesterday. Even the teachers averted their gaze when facing me.
I notice how her hips slightly sway in the corner of my eyes, how her long legs take the smallest steps, and the rolled back shoulders. She's relaxing by my side. How unusual. I feel the skin at the tip of my ears burn with an unusual sensation, making me roll my eyes away from her. To my dismay, it doesn't take many seconds before I return to watching her. Her hand moves to the thin linen scarf around her neck, pulling it closer. Self conscious under my gaze? I wonder. Does she fancy me?
«I take it you've also finished the test fast,» she breaks the pleasant silence, her soft voice clinging to my brain. Something about it draws me in. It makes me calm and restless in the core. Red is the only one capable of causing something like this to me, but that's closer to hate. Funny how those feelings overlap and are alike.
«Yes. I might be a rowdy and criminal in your eyes, but I'm no where near dumb.» Thinking about Red makes my voice harsher than it has to be, but she doesn't seem to mind. How can such a delicate creature be so calm walking there? I want to ask her.
Could she be one of the groupies? The girls interested in us Ruff's because we're considered bad boys. She doesn't look like one of them, but they do come in all shapes and sizes, I remind myself after quite the unpleasant experience a year back.
A cough escapes her and she covers up. It sounds harsh and painful, tears clinging to the corner of her eyes. She's so fragile. It rides her throat sore before she excuses herself. I tell her it's fine, I can't get sick from mortal illnesses, I mentally add.
The high ponytail looks slightly like the one Red used to wear when younger, but it was held up with a bow. I have no idea how many I've destroyed over the years before she finally stopped using it. In a way, I take notice. Red stills has a bow, but it's a clip at the back of her head, keeping the hair away from her face. I suppose it's faster than tying it up. It somehow feels nostalgic, watching the hair sway back and forth. However, this girls' is nowhere near the length of the pink puff.
My hands fondle with the fabric inside my pockets as I watch her register the returning book and carefully place it inside the box for later sorting, greatly caring for the bundle of paper and ink.
«What do you have next?» she suddenly ask, and I find myself staring at her. My thoughts had been wandering and I had not been aware of the predator-over-pray look I had given her. Her not minding is what causes it. It's like she's inviting me in to freely do whatever I want. She's fine with it. Regrettably, I feel my cheeks heat up slightly. It's shut down before it gets visible.
«Advanced chemistry. Currently we're working on a project,» she picks out a couple books as she passes a shelf, gesturing to the chair beside her as she takes the seat, placing the stack neatly on her right side. I find my way around the table, sitting across from her. Somehow, I see her as the closest to my intelligence in this school. Nobody finished at the same time as I did, and she's the first to leave the first years; she's at the top. Probably lower ranked than me, but still ruling over the mortals. Her good looks helps.
«We're also on a project,» she adds, a pencil steady in her hands, notebook in front of her. I wrinkle my eyes; It's not like me to miss this. When had she been in possession of these objects? Maybe I was too fascinated with her appearance to observe it earlier.
«Is it a partner project?» I ask out of curiosity.
«It is,» she nods her head, flipping a book open. Her eyes glance over the page before she takes a quick note. She's well organized and her handwriting is prepossessing, the curve of the letters lining up perfectly.
«Where is your teammate?» I pick up one of the books, reading the title. It sounded dry, so I place it back down.
«Probably still taking the test,» the smile is knowing. «And yours?» she suddenly looks up, hand still in her writing, eyes curious. I arch an eyebrow in disbelief.
«I never said I had one. Why do you assume that?»
«Why else ask if I have one?» she shrugs lightly. Now there's a playful and knowing expression. I feel the curve of my lips wanting to smile, and I let them. I want to say something else, but a brunette runs up to our table, pale face and out of breath.
«Hope is in the infirmary.» I watch as her eyes widen. Being forced under my power, standing face to face with me, talking with me had not caused such fright as she was displaying now. Rising from her chair, she rushes off, leaving everything behind, including me. The friend throwing a curious glance over her shoulder. One question trumps the others. Who the hell is Hope?