Hi! I'm down to the last couple of chapters. Hey, I'm sorry for making Yerffej so obvious, but I'm young, give me a break. Really, I'm REALLY young. So anyway, people seem to enjoy my twists so far, and I'm adding a new one (let's see how you take this one, eh!) Please r/r, and I appreciate all those who did. Thanks to Goth_Flutist for finally getting me moving (she's from my school, could you tell from her review?) Also, thanks to hannah holmes for telling me that the British use pennies now (my dictionary is a bit outdated. It's from the forties) I'm from America, and am not told any of this stuff. If any of you want to correct me on anything else, feel free. Anyway, here is the newest chapter, and sadly, one of the last. P.S.: Want me to write a sequel? I got one in mind, but I want to know if you want me to.
Chapter Eight: Conflict
Holmes spent a quarter of a day working out the clues. He told me he knew who Yerffej was, but didn't have enough evidence to put him behind bars. I, however, was left in the dark. I'm not that dense, but I just couldn't figure it out.
I spent the remainder of the weekend thinking things over, like the clues. A boy whose nickname is Yerffej, about our age, a little shorter than Holmes, has income, possibly drugs, lives with mom, mom has dyed hair, goes to Danny's to steal guns... it just didn't add up. Unfortunately, the clues wouldn't add up for a long time, due to what happened that week.
On Tuesday morning, while hanging around outside the school, a disaster happened.
While discussing the clues and multiple twists and turns of the case, a long car pulled up to the school. A limo, to be exact. Out stepped one of the prettiest girls I have ever seen.
Her hair was gold in color, and was obviously not dyed. She had green eyes, was really tall, and walked with flair and elegance. All the boys stared at her, but she seemed to be looking around for someone. Suddenly, she spotted me and Holmes standing by the school and came running over. She jumped into Holmes' arms and kissed him square on the lips.
"Oh, Sherlock! Did you miss me? Your girlfriend is back in town!" she cried. My books clattered to the ground. The girl looked at me and smiled.
"Oh, hello. My name is Olivia Cardia (A.N.: Recognize this?). I am a transfer student from France. May I ask who you are?" she said with beautiful English, but it had a French accent. I stared at her, my body numb. Holmes seemed as shocked as I was, and was turning a shade paler with every word she spoke. I finally got up the courage to speak.
"Trust me, I'm nobody," I said heatedly. I picked up my books, along with my shattered dignity, and walked away from Holmes, who stared after me.
That day at lunch, I sat all by myself, away from that ditz Olivia. She spoke rapidly, and seemed obsessed with clothes and makeup. All through lunch, I could see Holmes nodding at her every five seconds, looking extremely bored. He glanced over at me a lot, but I pretended to be interested in the school cafeteria's mystery meat. Through chemistry, English, French, Band (I play clarinet, Holmes plays violin), and P.E. I ignored him and his girlfriend. I didn't talk to him, and I acted angry. In truth, I was just very hurt that he would do such a thing to me. He told me that he didn't have a girlfriend, ever. But it was obvious he did, and if Sherlock Holmes wanted her, than he would only get her, and not me.
That night Holmes called. I hung up on him. But I couldn't keep the window locked, and Holmes managed to get in that way. I turned my back to him instantly.
"I refuse to speak to you, Sherlock, so you mightn't want to try," I declared. I heard him sigh and sag against the wall.
"Well, then don't speak. Just listen," he replied. I whirled around furiously.
"Listen? You expect me to LISTEN? You listen! You lied to me. You said you never had a girlfriend. You never mentioned her before? Is that the reason I played a French girl in our undercover thing? Was that why you gave me the name Olivia Cardia? Did you think you could keep her from cropping up somewhere? Because if you did, then you are dead wrong if you think that I'm going to listen to YOU!" I shouted. Thankfully, mom wasn't home, and wouldn't here this conversation, as we were supposed to never see each other again. Holmes stared at me.
"Yes, I admit I lied to you. But it was an accident. Olivia and I met when she came to London as a foreign exchange student. I fell in love with her, and she fell in love with me. She went back to Nimes that summer, and I never saw her again. I FORGOT ABOUT HER! It wasn't true love. I made you speak French because you suck at it, and I don't know why I gave you the name Olivia Cardia. I just recognized it from somewhere, and gave it to you. This isn't my fault!" he explained with urgency. I turned.
"Well, obviously you were a lot more than just small lovers. Holmes, she kissed you harder than I've kissed you! And she hasn't seen you for how many years?" I asked.
"Three."
"Exactly my point. You should remember to tell me these little details. And another thing, you've kept me completely in the dark about this entire case! I still don't know who what's-his-name is! You are selfish, that's what you are Holmes! And utterly, utterly stupid!" I screeched. That did it. I had hit his pride, his joy, his intelligence. He turned quickly and slapped me across the face. Shocked, I fell to the ground. He looked appalled, stared as his hand, then turned to me.
"Oh, God, Jenny, I'm so sorry. I am so, so sorry. I didn't mean..." he trailed off, staring at me. I glared at him.
"Get out," I whispered. He groaned.
"Oh God Jenny. I really... I'm sorry..." he uttered. I got up from the ground.
"Get out of my house before I call the police," I said softly. And ever so slowly, he crawled out of the window. I heard from the ground a soft voice, with tears in it say "Adieu, my friend. Adieu."
Wednesday and Thursday were perhaps the hardest days of my life. I still loved Holmes, and a great deal. But he had hurt me, emotionally first, then physically. I noted, with satisfaction, that Olivia left him on Wednesday, and he now sat alone as I during lunch and class. On Friday, however, I gained a new friend.
I sat eating my lunch quietly, at a table near the front. I had grown accustomed to not talking during lunch, and was enjoying it immensely, when a girl sat down.
I remembered her as the sassy, bold, and spunky girl in my class who was very popular. Her name was Cherry Wallace, and everyone liked her. She had red hair with purple steaks, her glasses had purple lenses, her clothes were either bright purple or electric green, and she was very nice. Today, she chose to sit with me.
"Hey girlfriend. What's up?" she asked. I stared at her. Her American accent was overwhelming. I quickly placed her accent that of the New York area. She smiled at my stunned look.
"Well don't you look out of place? Guess you didn't know I was from America, did ya?" she asked, grinning. I quickly saw she had braces, with green and purple colors.
"I suppose I didn't. Why aren't you sitting with your friends?" I asked. She smiled again.
"I don't know. I've wanted to get to know you, but you insisted about hanging out with Sherlock. Now that you two hate each other, you have no friends, and you're welcome to hang out with me," she said. I thought rapidly. Cherry was loud and obnoxious, and not the type of person I usually liked. But I was desperate. Putting on an award winning smile, and turned to her. "Why, certainly Cherry. I'd love to hang out with you."
Cherry was stupid. She was dumber than anyone I had ever seen in my entire life, including that idiot Jeffery. She was blonde, and had no grammatical sense at all. She was flunking every class, and only passed Physical Education, and only because she was a preppy, dumb, foolish cheerleader. But she was all right otherwise. I mean, who needed intelligence anyway.
"So, what do you think about science? I really liked learning about atoms. Who knew they were so interesting?" I said one day at lunch. Her friends looked at me.
"Atoms?" I sighed. I wasn't friends with them much longer, however.
On Thursday of the next week, I realized there little game. I was getting my books when Cherry came up behind me.
"Hey, Jenny? Don't sit with us tomorrow. You're not helping," she said nastily. I whirled around, shocked.
"What?" I asked, caught off guard. She sighed.
"My God Jenny. How stupid are you? We kept you around to tutor us. We might get kicked off cheer squad if we don't pass science. But nooo. You talked about it, but you never offered to do our homework, or at least give us your answers," she said. I stared at her.
"You mean, you kept me around for my science skills?" I questioned, infuriated. She nodded.
"Well duh. Did you think we were your friends or something? We didn't approach you when you were with that nerd Sherlock, 'cause he would see straight through our plan. You're just to dense to even realize it. It was simple," she giggled. I gaped at her.
"Holmes is not a nerd, nor am I stupid. You, however, are the stupidest cow I've ever met. And, if you even try to talk me into doing your homework, you can bet that I will beat the crap out of you. Now get away from me," I furiously responded. She shrugged.
"Whatever. Just remember, if you want your popularity to grow, don't go near Sherlock. He is such a loser," she said, turning.
Now, even when Holmes and I were friends, I never attacked anyone when they teased him. He didn't seem to care. But now, even though I thought I hated his guts, I couldn't stop myself. I launched myself at her.
The fight was simple. For being a cheerleader, she wasn't that strong. I hit her in the face a couple of times, and then the mouth, and finally the stomach. Fortunately for her, a teacher pulled me off her before I really got angry.
I groaned. Suspended! I was suspended! For a week! How in the world could I get suspended. Mom was going to blow a gasket.
I went into my room. I had spoiled the best friendship I had ever had. Holmes was gone, and wouldn't come back. I couldn't apologize, and he couldn't either. Our pride didn't allow it. I was grounded by my mother (big surprise) and went to my room. I flipped on my Enya CD, and put the track to number three.
Who can say where the road goes
where the day flows-only time
And who can say if your love grows
as you heart chose-only time
Who can say why your heart sighs
as your love flies-only time
And who can say why your heart cries
when you love lies-only time
Who can say when the roads meet
that love might be in your heart
And who can say when the day sleeps
if the night keeps all your heart
Night keeps all your heart
Who can say if your love grows
as your heart chose-only time
And who can say where the road goes
where the day flows-only time
Who knows-only time
Who knows-only time
(Song called "Only Time", by Enya)
I burst out into tears and sobbed violently into my pillow. I pulled out the necklace Holmes had given me and looked at it. It gleamed magnificently in my lamplight, but it just made me feel worse. I threw the necklace into a corner of my room, and continued to cry, long into the night.
I woke up around midnight to the sound of my window opening. I leapt to my feet and assumed the karate stance (not like I knew karate). In stepped a tall figure. I switched on the light, making the figure howl. As the light shown upon his features I started.
"Holmes, what in the world are you doing here? Get out," I whispered. He glared at me.
"I'm here to apologize. I am very sorry for hitting you, and for not telling you about Olivia," he replied. I looked at him, and made the mistake of looking into his eyes. As soon as I saw them, I burst into tears again.
"How can you say you're sorry," I cried, stamping my foot on the ground angrily. He looked stricken, and awkwardly took me into his arms, petting me. Suddenly I laughed.
"What?" he asked, insulted. I giggled.
"You know Holmes, you shouldn't be this awkward around women. You have lots of experience with them, after all," I said, laughing into his chest. I felt him relax, as if I had given him an answer. Stopping my vicious sobbing almost instantly, I looked at him.
"Ok, are you going to tell me about the case? Like who Yerffej is?" I asked, all business. He rolled his eyes.
"Of course I will. First of all, Yerffej is-what's that?" Holmes stopped in mid sentence. Glancing out my window, I saw where he was looking.
There was a factory about three streets away, abandoned years ago as it was considered unsafe. I had heard that criminals used it now, but I had never really looked into it. Holmes had seen someone head into the door, which was facing my window. I shrugged.
"I don't know. Probably nobody," I said. He glared with a hawks intensity at the disappearing figure.
"Nobody doesn't have that body shape or type. Come Watson! The game is afoot!" Holmes cried, climbing out of the window. I had no choice but to follow him.
