AN: Shout out to all my wonderful reviewer
KatFightOnSkis: So relieved now that I know where that wacky penname is derived from. Good luck on updating your story. Ain't writer's block a bitch?!
Chapter 9
"No."
"Yes."
"Anna, no."
"Eppie, yes." Anna pushed her friend to the window. "Just look at him." Eppie let her forehead fall against the windowpane, looking only for a moment before jumping back for fear he'd seen her. "See, not so hard."
She twisted out of Anna's grasp, retreating back to her seat from across the window. The high afternoon sun created a cross- sectioned window shadow on the floor and wall behind Eppie. "Anna, go home." She mumbled.
Anna sighed in frustration, sitting on the window ledge and watching her friend curl protectively onto the pages of her sketchbook. "What are you going to do?"
"It's Thursday, one more day until I can go home."
"Sure, but what are you going to do about him."
"Try and stop thinking about" she glanced at Anna quickly, "everything."
Anna jumped to her feet, muttering to herself as she kicked her feet in protest. In the empty upper hall of St. Mary's central dorms the two were all alone, with only a passing girl to scurry by at Anna's glare. "This is not helping! You're acting"
"Ridiculous, petty, immature?"
"Yes!"
Eppie turned back, so bent that her nose threatened to rub against the charcoal on her sketchbook. "Well, I don't care." Anna stomped around some more, trying her usual antics to get some sort of reaction from her friend. But Eppie focused her eyes, knitting her brows and stroking hard on the paper in front of her. It was only after realizing what she instinctively drew that she erupted, hurling the sketchbook to the floor so that it skidded across the tile. Resting her head to her knees, she rocked slightly back and forth, Anna now hugging her as best she could.
"You care about him still, that's natural"
"Yes, but I shouldn't" Came her muffled reply.
Anna chuckled lightly, pulling her friend closer. "You can't help it, trust me. Unlike that brilliant mind of yours, a heart does what it wants."
They sat in silence for a moment later until Eppie slowly raised her head. "Not me," she sniffled, "I should never have let myself get into this position"Anna couldn't help but crack a small smile at her friend, "and now that I'm here, I've just got toget over it."
"Sorry darling, that's just not going to happen." Eppie rolled her eyes, shoving Anna away lightly. "Trust me, you're gonna be stuck on Jack Kelly for the rest of your life, whether or not you take him back in the end." She spun in the warm sun and Eppie couldn't help but stare. "True loves last the longest. And for your sake, and his sorry ass, I hope you realize that soon."
Eppie wiped at her nose, standing to her feet also. "What about you? I haven't seen you gushing with post-Spot glee lately." Anna stopped spinning suddenly, "Take your own advice."
"That's different."
"Oh really, how so?" Eppie folded her hands across her chest, cocking her head to the right while waiting for an explanation. She knew she was being harsh, but Anna had been nagging her non-stop for the past week. She needed to figure things out, that much was obvious, but nothing was going to get done with Anna sitting on her shoulder.
Anna began gathering her things, pulling on her coat and fumbling with the buttons. "I'm not like you, Eppie." She whispered, pulling on her bag and scooping up the small amount of books she had. She slapped her gloves against her thigh, slowly meeting her friends gaze. "I knew Spot and I would end, as fun as it was, it was going to end. But you" she reached out to hug the girl. "You deserved something perfect."
Eppie was touched, digging her fingers into the back of Anna's thick winter coat. "Don't say that," she whispered, just as Anna sniffled herself. They separated and Eppie knew Anna's drained expression reflected her own. "Just remember, Spot may not have been your first guy, but he could have been your first love." Anna laughed, rolling her eyes to the ceiling above.
"Now you sound as silly as me.,,"
Eppie ignored her, letting a smile slip across her lips. "And if we're going with the whole 'first love' thing, well" she shrugged and Anna began walking backwards towards the stairwell.
"I'll meet you tomorrow, right after mass." Eppie nodded, folding back into her corner of the hall, the sketchbook now back on her lap. "Don't stay up too late with that thing!" Anna warned, bumping into the door and blowing her friend a kiss before dashing down the stairs.
She passed girls on the steps, girls she would have normally chatted with. But reflecting on her own situation and that of her best friend, Anna dropped her head and focused on her feet. She didn't look up until pushing open the large front doors of St. Mary's, the cool air clearing her senses. On the top of those steps, with girls milling all about, she halted and dropped her arms open, head back, breathing deeply the winter air. Only in the winter did the city air feel clean and crisp. No smog.
After a moment she took a deep breath and set her shoulders, squinting into the setting sunlight before taking the steps one at a time. She stayed towards the side, running her hands along the banister, a means of support that eased her mind just feeling it on the edge of her fingertips. This was how she was able to hide out of their view, watching secretively from behind the statue of Mary that ended the set of steps.
They were waiting for two different girls but standing in much the same rejected manner. It took them only a moment to recognize the other, both approaching but scuffing their feet along the way, just for effect. After a moment, she didn't know who offered first, but they were shaking hands like men do, smiling at each other faintly.
It seemed too perfect, Jack and Spot apologizing to each other right as she left St. Mary's, She slid to the bottom step before tilting her head back and catching Mary's maternal eye. "Yea, I know what you're saying." Upon standing she brushed off her skirt, making sure that her heels clicked on the limestone so that they both looked up expectantly. Spot beamed at the sight of her, which helped her spirits lightly, while Jack continued to force a smile, his disappointment obvious enough behind it all.
She approached him first, hugging him quickly. "Hey now," he joked, nudging her in Spot's direction, "make him beg a little, will ya? Please."
She laughed also, squeezing his hand quickly before turning to Spot. The couple began down the street, neither speaking. It only took a moment, Spot bending so that he caught her eye. After that, his hand moved slowly and gently, his fingers laced through hers and they rounded the corner out of view.
Jack's smile fell from his lips as he turned back to the school's cold face, scanning the windows until a figure in the upper row caught his eye. He blinked and the person was gone, but he could have sworn he caught the flash of red trailing behind as the figure fled.
Fanned out around her were the majority of her sketches but she could tell he didn't want to continue their earlier dinnertime conversation of decorating the shop with her paintings. She feigned ignorance. "I can't pick which one." She danced her fingertips over a few, rearranging them slightly and craning her neck back to look at him. "You decide." She covered a sketch of Jack, hoping he hadn't seen it.
Her father leaned against the doorframe, scratching slowly at his temple. "Oh child, you know that if I could I'd cover the walls with your pictures." He crossed the small room to her bed, squeaking the springs as he sat. "We'll have your mother decide later."
She sat for a moment longer, contemplating which pictures she thought to be appropriate and waiting for him to speak. When his silence continued for longer than normal she looked up and noticed him fumbling with something in his hand. "What's that in your hand?" She asked, leaning forward and snatching the book before he could stop her. It only took her a moment to read the title and connect why such a horrendous book had returned to her home. She jumped up in fright, looking to the open door with wide eyes.
"Don't worry, he's just left." He father explained, standing also and offering an open hand for her to return the book. But she refused, clutching it tightly before sinking back to within her circle of pictures. "He just dropped off the book; apologized for coming after supper and everything." Eyeing his daughter cautiously he tried pushing a little more than normal, "And he said that if" He caught her clear brown eyes, watching him intently, "or rather when you're ready to talk to him, he'll be around."
She dropped the book to the ground, crossing her arms as she used to do as a child during a tantrum and sitting back on her feet. "We'll he can forget that"
He sighed, resting his chin on his hand, "Eppie, I hate to see you like this." He began, "What happened to my lovely daughter? You must speak with the boy. He's as distraught as you are" Her stubbornly set jaw reminded him of his wife. "At least for your grandmother's sake. This bad mood you're in is affecting her health."
"I think I deserve to be selfish for a change." She snapped, not expecting her father to crumble as he did. She bit her lip, guilt washing over her. "Oh Pa, I'm sorry." She reached out and placed a hand on his knee, "I'm taking my anger out on you. You're right, I have been acting just awful. I'll try to be more cheerful around Memere, will that be better?"
He watched her sincere eyes, resting his hand on her own. "I just want my daughter backnot one who sits and mopes, reading these dark novels" He picked up a hardcover on her mattress, flopping it further away as if it had stung him.
"Pa, they're not"
He stopped her with pleading eyes. "Whatever happened to your romance novels, your heroines?"
In frustration she stood, pacing with bare feet around her artwork. "Why what did those fairytales ever teach me? Dream your life away or blind yourself until even a fool can trip you." She threw her arms to her side, clenched fists knocking in her thighs before sinking to the side of her bed. She rested her head on the edge, bare feet peaking out from underneath the length of her dress.
"Such harsh words," She felt her father smooth down the unruly curls of her hair, whispering in a voice so soft it soothed. "I just want you to be happy. I want to see that luscious glow."
His finger rested below her chin so that their eyes met. "I don't think I'm going to be glowing for a while" A rueful smile peaked at the edge of her lips, illuminating a dimple.
"Well, just try." He kissed her forehead gently. "And know that your mother and I love you either way."
She remained resting against the bed as her father stood and began to leave. "Thanks Pa," she whispered, unable to resist picking up the book again. She turned it over in her hands, flipping through the pages quickly and catching sight of a familiar piece of paper tucked inside. Her father's voice startled her and she dropped the book to her lap before she could pull it out.
"He read it you know, cover to cover." She watched him grip the door handle lightly, pulling it closed after a quick whispered, "Goodnight, my child." She sighed, tossing the book to the side again and climbing into her bed. Resting on her stomach she watched the nasty thing.
He'd tricked her. He'd picked his words carefully, knowing that his last words would haunt her for the rest of the night. Her father had picked that book for a very specific purpose, not because he thought of it as Jack's 'book match'. She'd heard the story before, told over a tipsy dinner party. That book would be his test. He'd hand it out to every suitor that Eppie had and see what the young man's reaction would be. And Jack had been the first to take the test.
He'd done his part. It seemed it was up to her whether or not he passed.
