Ch. 7: I Hate Crab
"Good day to you, Miss Bell!" he squeaked before dodging out the door and running down the street.
"Cute kid," I commented. I turn around and summon a vase while Alicia leans forward, grinning like the cat that got the canary.
"How sweet, he remembered!"
"What?" I ask as I walk. I take the vase into the back and fill it up with water. Oh wow, these smell great!
"Oliver! He remembered your favorite color is pink!" Alicia persisted.
"Why do I have a feeling this isn't from Oliver? Besides, he'd be giving these to Lorelei, not me," I insist.
"Well then why don't you put a stop to both our guessing and open the bloody card!" Alicia's starting to get angry now. But then again, I'm starting to get really curious. I slide my finger under the seal and hear the satisfying rip the paper makes. I slide out a think postcard-like card, which was flowers all over the rim.
"Come on! Read it aloud!" Alicia yells after I shoved her away from hovering over my shoulder.
"Katie- Have dinner with me tonight at 7:30 at 'Blue.' –Marcus," I read. Wow, you sure know how to romance a woman with such loving words. Not! Well...you hit the nail on the head with the roses, but you gotta be a little more polite and romantic in your love letters.
"So?" Alicia prompts.
"So what?" I hate it when she does this. Just ask the damn question and quit making me guess!
"So are you going to go?"
"I guess so," I reply. I haven't given it much thought, but I guess there's no harm.
"So what are you going to wear?"
"Dunno. Can't afford to buy any new clothes, so what kinds of things should I wear?"
"I'll let you borrow a long jean skirt of mine. It should fit you, because we're about the same size, right?" if by same size you mean you're a lot smaller than me, then yes.
"Yeah," I lie. It's kind of sad when I lie about so many small things I'm not bothered by it anymore. Oh wait, she's talking again.
"Pair that with a button up and you should be fine. Blue isn't really dressy so you shouldn't have to worry about dressing up. Just look casual, and keep cool, and the date will go great," she says. Yeah, I guess she's right. Wait...it's not a date is it?
"It's not a date!" I cry. Alicia rolls her eyes and picks up a few sweaters off a table and begin to refold them.
"Sure, Katie. Sure," I punch her lightly in the arm and we wink at each other.
We might get on each other's nerves sometimes, but who doesn't get on your nerves every once in a while?
Alright, fast forwarding to later that evening...It's 6:15, and I begin to get ready.
I start unbuttoning the skort, thinking of what I'm going to wear, when I stop. I don't have the skirt! I sprint out of my room, clutching my short tan skort to my hips as I launch myself at the fireplace.
In mere seconds, I can see into Alicia's apartment.
"ALICIA!" I bellow. I hear scrambling and then Alicia comes sprinting in the room in a sports bra and yoga pants.
"What?" she asks irritably. I resist the urge to laugh. Who knew Alicia Spinnet did yoga? Or is it something else?
"I need the skirt! You said I could borrow it!" I hiss as she places her hands on her hips. Man, how come I'm not that thin? Unfair!
"Oh right," she mumbles before taking off into her room. She comes out about two minutes later with the skirt in hand. She holds it out, but something interrupts the transfer.
"Alicia?" a male voice asks. Alicia looks over her shoulder sharply and I try to look around her. She snaps back around, and even though my vision is temporarily tinted green, I know a blush when I see one!
"Who-?" I'm sent back flying with a bundle of denim attached to my face. I shove it off and prop myself up.
"Wonder who she was with," I ask aloud. I start grinning to myself. Suddenly, I'm aware there's a pair of eyes on me. Let's see who it is. Two guesses who.
"Can I help you?" I ask, as I turn to meet the icy blue gaze of Lore. She's leaning on the kitchen counter, sipping a coke.
"No. Just observing," she says before taking another sip. I blink and force a split-second smile before heading off to my room. Humph, I've made it a habit to lock myself in my room when she was here.
"Creepy little person, that one," I say aloud as I walk into my closet. I pick out a dusty rose colored button up and I slide it on over my bare shoulders, having long since shed my shirt. The thin cotton material feels nice against my skin. Nice and cool, it is.
Next comes the jean skirt, which I pull up over my wide hips. I button it up and smooth it out. Hmm, Alicia was right. We are about the same size. My mirror image shows that my hair looks like a fuzz-ball, so I cast a straightening charm on it, and pull it back and hold it with a clip. I slip a golden chain with a Golden Snitch on it around my neck. I stroke the little snitch icon fondly, as it was a Christmas gift from Oliver. He's such a sweet guy...Sigh...
I suppose it's time to go, so I head off to get my bag and set off for Blue.
I make it halfway to my hand bag when I'm spotted.
"Hey Katie!" I stop like a deer caught in headlights, craning to my right to see Oliver walking towards me.
"What're you all dressed up for?" he asks, leaning up against the wall a few feet away from me. Ew. I can smell his sweat from here, and I look up and finally realize he's just gotten back from training.
"Going out to dinner with Marcus," I say coolly as I close my eyes and snatch my tan shoulder bag. Please don't let him jump on my back, please don't let him jump on my back...
"Oh," is all he says. I straighten and look up at him, and see a somewhat hurt look in his eyes.
"Yeah. I should be back in a few hours," And just why am I explaining my evening to him? It's not like he cares. He'll probably be in bed with Lore. I shoot her a dirty look and continue, "And I would hug you, since I haven't see you much, but you're all gross and sweaty," I say, winking at him and taking a step back.
"Rain-check?" he asks, holding out his arms.
"Rain-check," I repeat his words to assure him. He smiles and I head off, and he closes the door behind me, but not before I can hear Lore whining his name. Ugh, I swear, that little harpy lives here now!
I take a few steps forward and concentrate hard on the image of "Blue" that I'm chasing in my mind. I open my eyes, and sure enough, I'm there. The place is fairly full, with only a rare few empty tables.
"Katie!" You called? I turn and see Marcus run up. He's wearing a blue and black striped polo and black slacks. Looking good, Flint.
"Hey there!" I greet him with open arms as he jogs up and envelops me in a hug. I smile over his shoulder as he lets go.
"Hungry?" he asks, taking my hand and leading me inside. When am I not?
"Just a little," I lie. See, there I go again. Lying. It's like sighing. I can't stop! But even then, 'a lady is never famished.' T'would be uncouth to be starving!
Marcus smiles and leads me up three really steep stairs. He opens the door and goes through. Ooh, minus points there. Shoulda held it open for me. O well. Not that I really care.
"Flint," Marcus dictates to the hostess.
"Two?" she asks, her brown eyes flickering up and eyeing me before snapping back down to her chart.
"Right this way," she says warmly as she picks up two menus and leads us through the blue-themed restaurant. Blue lights overhead blue tables and blue chairs. Meals are served on blue plates and eaten with blue utensils. Hell, the only thing that isn't blue is the customers. I would've said people, but the hostess and the wait-staff are all dressed in blue as well.
"I wonder if they ever get sick of it..." I wonder aloud. It can't be healthy to see blue every day for hours on end.
"Come again?" the hostess asks, flashing an unnaturally white toothy smile at me.
"Oh nothing, just mumbling to myself," I say, shrugging her off. She smiles and leads us to a window table, which is high above the street level. Blue curtains are drawn down, so all you can see are the tops of people's heads as they pass by. This should prove fun, since I'm a dedicated people watcher. Creepy as it may sound, it's quite interesting.
"Enjoy your dinner," the hostess says before walking off. I pick up the menu and finger he thick blue paper in which it's printed upon. Hmm...what's this? Out of the corner of my eye I see a pair of baggy jeans fast approaching.
"Hey there folks. Name's Andy. I'll be your waiter tonight. Can I start you off with some drinks?" Andy asks, holding out a pad and (I shudder) a blue ballpoint pen. I'm shaken out of my stupor by two pairs of eyes staring at me. Marcus and Andy look at me expectantly, and I order the first thing that comes to mind.
"Appletini," I say automatically. I shrug, not a bad choice for being off the tip of my tongue.
"Good choice!" Andy chirps as he scribbles it down.
"And Andy? Can you tell the bartender to keep it green?" I ask. Hey! Can you blame me? I'm going into a blue-induced overload here!
"Sure thing," Andy agrees after letting out a hearty laugh. He turns to Marcus who orders a local beer.
"I'll be back in a few minutes with your drinks, and the daily specials are the bolded items," Andy adds, taking away the empty wine goblets from our table.
"So you know what you want?" I ask Marcus, not taking my eyes away from my own menu.
"Thinking about some linguini," he says. I scan over the sheet and find the dish. Looks good, but it's served with some things that aren't exactly familiar in my book.
"What about you?" he asks in return. Yes. What about me...
"I'm thinking the petite filet," I say. Mmm-mmm-mmm. Great cut of beef with garlic mashed potatoes on the side. The only thing that made me hesitate was the crab salad. I generally don't like seafood that much, unless it's fish. Well Oliver's always telling me to try new things. Hmm...wonder what he's doing right now?
Andy comes back with our drinks and Marcus and I place our orders. As I take a sip of my drink, my eyes scan the room. I see lots of people looking our way. Wonder what they're looking at? Oh yeah...Almost forgot. Marcus is famous.
"Cool place, isn't it?" Marcus asks. I look around and blink slowly, then turn back to Marcus.
"Yeah. Almost too much blue," I say disdainfully. I'd understand if like, half the furniture was blue, but seriously, all of it?!
"Too true," he laughs. His laughter soon dies down, and we settle into another silence.
"What do you do in your free time?" he asks. Hmm...what do I do in my free time?
"If I have a lot of time, I'll get out my old broomstick and go flying above an empty field or something. If I have just a little bit of free time I'll hang out with Angelina and Alicia or read a book," I say. Hmm, that explanation should suffice.
"You're still friends with those two?" he asks. Why wouldn't I be? They're my best friends.
"Yup,"
"That's cool. The only friend from Hogwarts I still talk to regularly is Pucey...But -So you don't have a boyfriend?" he asks. Here we go again...
"Nope. Everyone thinks Oliver and I are going out, but we're not. Besides, he has a girlfriend," I say. I take another sip of my drink and return the question.
"Naw, I'm single too...Oh look! Here are our salads," he says. Sure enough I see Andy coming around with a plate in each hand. He sets a plate in front of me and one in front of Marcus. I look over at his. Hey! How come he gets the Caesar salad and I get this? On my own plate I see a bunch of spinach leaves topped with a huge mound of little pink slivers which I can only assume are pieces of crab.
I can already hear Marcus digging into his own plate without even looking up. I'm still skeptical about the crab...Might as well try a little piece. Hmm, can't really taste it. Blech, why does it have to be spinach salad? I mean, spinach isn't that bad, but I would've preferred lettuce. Maybe if I just eat around all the gross looking stuff and add all the crab on top it'll taste alright.
What's this? Out of the corner of my eye I see someone who is definitely not part of the wait-staff.
"Marcus Flint! Oh my God! Can I have your autograph?" this girl squeals loudly. Shit, the whole restaurant looks over and they start whispering quickly to each other. Uh oh, I know those looks on their faces. I made the mistake of going somewhere really open with Oliver for a bite to eat one time and we were flooded with people.
Marcus' eyes flash to mine, before he accepts the pen and napkin the woman offers him.
"Make it out to Wendy," the girl demands. She looks over me with a quirked brow as if to say, "who the hell are you?" I just ignore her and eat another crab-covered spinach leaf. This isn't that bad really...The crab is nice and bland, but you need a lot of it to get even just a bit of flavor.
"It is you! Honey! Come over here! It's Marcus Flint!" another woman yells, beckoning her husband over. Great, three people and counting. Great, I hear a mass moving of chairs and within seconds our table is swarmed with people asking for his autograph. They've completely surrounded us. Hands are outstretched everywhere, and hey! Back off buddy! Invading the personal space bubble here! OK, that's it! Someone just tried to grope me!
"Oi! Marcus!" I yell over the people demanding autographs. Marcus' face tilts up, a sympathetic look in his eyes.
"I'm gunna go! It's getting a little crowded. It's OK, we can hang out later!" I reassure him. He throws me a mournful look before nodding. I slide my chair out and some girl curses me for backing over her foot, but I don't care. I just want to get out of here. Especially before I strangle someone.
"LOOK! I'm leaving! So you can stop pulling my hair, bitch!" I yell, surprising a red-head behind me who was tugging at my clip and any loose strands she could find. She then looks furious and shoves me out of the way, taking the seat I was occupying moments before.
"Loonies!" I yell as I exit the restaurant. Jesus. Sure, he might be famous, but he's still a person like you and me! Grr, crazy people. Humph. Mental note, Katie; Always request a private room and/or bodyguards when going out with famous men.
Hum. I never really realized how close my apartment is to Blue. I can actually see it from here. At least, I think I see it. Might as well walk. It's a nice night anyways. All of the shops are closed, but it's still fun to window shop. Hey, I didn't know we had a Quidditch supply shop this close! Maybe I could save up for a new broom, since I use one SO often...Hum, my tummy feels weird. Probably just need to go to the bathroom.
I unlock the door to the apartment and see Oliver sitting at the kitchen table alone, reading a Quidditch magazine most likely. He looks up with a spoon in his mouth.
"Hey!" he greets after taking the spoon out. He gets up from the table and we hug. Yay! He showered! Mmm...smells good...
"How was your dinner?"
"Eh. Got mobbed by fans, so I left during the salad course," I shrug as I put his empty cereal bowl in the sink.
"That stinks," he comments. His voice is a little tense, but maybe he just doesn't like me going out with the enemy. Oh well.
"Eh, too much blue stuff at the restaurant. My eyes were starting to strain. And what about you? Cereal for dinner?" I say, turning the water off and drying my hands. He just shrugs.
"Wasn't too hungry," he says. I frown. He's almost always hungry.
"OK. Sure. Now you want to tell me the real reason?" I ask, throwing the towel to the counter.
"I've just been snacking all day, so I wasn't too hungry. Besides, I had a big lunch with Lore," he says. Humph. He probably ate his and Lore's lunch, since she eats less than a stupid little humming bird. Ooh, speaking off the harpy...
"So where is Lore now? Usually you two are joined at the hip around this time," I say. Well it's true! Oliver narrows his eyes at me. What?
"After lunch she left the country to spend a few days with her sick mum in Germany. So hah, you get to deal with me for the next couple of days!" he laughs in triumph. I roll my eyes.
"Alright. Since I'm the one taking care of you for now, what do you want for dinner?" I ask, poking him in the chest.
"Nothing. I told you I'm not hungry," he says, swatting my hand away. I look up at him and try to look angry.
"And I'm telling you right now that athletes don't live off snacks and cereal!" I say a little forcefully.
"Alright, mom," he says before rolling his eyes and walks off. OK, two can play this game.
"Don't you walk away from me young man!" I yell. He turns around and cracks a smile. No! Must not smile back! Must not smile back!
"What'll you do if I do? Spank me?" he says. His eyes are dark and he's looking down at me seductively.
"Maybe I might need to," I say. We both start cracking up and Oliver takes this time to hoist me over his shoulder, carrying me off the living room. I pound on his back but he doesn't let go.
"Neanderthal," I mutter. I can tell he's grinning now. He drops me down on the couch and grins.
"But you wouldn't have me any other way," he says before walking away.
"How come we don't fight like this more often? I miss this," I ask him honestly. He looks back at me and gives me a small, sincere smile, then continues walking to his room. My stomach squirms but not just from his smile...
"Oh wait, I do know why we don't hang out anymore. It's because of her," I whisper to myself. I lay here on the couch for a few minutes, just looking around in silence. In a glass case on my right, I can just barely see Oliver's trophy case. I sigh and sit up and walk into my room.
I strip down to some boy shorts and a pink tank top and sit in my big fluffy bed, reading romance novels. I finished my last one, so I picked up another one. They're all fluffy and lovey-dovey, but I like to read 'em. Hah, me, half tomboy Katie Bell reading romance novels. Go figure.
Hum, stomach stills feels weird, and I'm getting tired. Lights out time. I mutter the spell and all the lights extinguish themselves, and I drop my wand on my nightstand. I roll over and snuggle up with the Quidditch blanket. Yawn...time for sleep...
Ungh. Its 4:48 and I'm up. Why am I up this early?! Maybe because I woke up and I have those stupid hot-chills. I'm too hot to put on the covers, but then I'm too cold to take 'em off. Ew. My stomach feels really squirmy. Must try to go back to sleep. I raise my hand up and drop it near my head, one of my fingers resting on my forehead. Hot...
OK, that's it. I've been tossing in turning going in and out of consciousness for the past hour and a half. Maybe if I go to the bathroom or get a drink I'll feel better. My crème sheets have already been long since kicked off, and I can feel a trickle of sweat running down my back. I involuntarily shudder and I can feel the hair on my arms, legs, and neck stand up on end. I put my feet on the floor and try to stand up.
"Shit," I mutter as I flop right back down on the bed. My vision clouds over and my legs weak. The black recedes and I can see the moonlit lined objects of my room. OK, must stand up. I force myself up, grab my wand, and stumble across the room. I push the door open, and I stumble out into the living room. Only a few more feet, Katie, just keep pushing.
My knees feel weak and I collapse outside the bathroom door. The loud sound of my crash lingers in my ears and my knees ache and throb. God, why is it so hard to move? I grope blindly about as I dropped my wand. I find it next to the bath mat, and I mutter the spell. I wince as the bathroom lights up brightly. I can actually feel my pupils dilate as I crawl on all fours over to the toilet.
My heart is being faster, I'm feeling hotter by the second, and my stomach feels like it's gripped in a scalding hot vice. The back of my throat feels heavy as I push up the different lids of the toilet. I cast my arm across the rim of the toilet and lean my head heavily upon it. Ugh. I feel really sick. Just then, my heart skips a beat and I feel the bile of my stomach shoot up and I throw up into the toilet. My eyes begin to water behind my closed eyelids. My stomach empties itself again, and I'm feeling worse and worse. And I still feel more coming.
Suddenly I feel something large, cold, and wet replacing my hot, sticky hair on the back of my neck. I feel my hair being pulled loosely back and the wet rag drips down the back of my already sweat-soaked tank. I would've looked up, but I threw up again. I feel a single hot tear running down my cheek, and my lower eyelashes are sticking to my skin. A large warm hand rubs large circles on my back as my stomach empties itself for the last time. I snag my toilet paper and wipe my mouth off. I chuck the disgusting piece of paper in the pot and fumble for the cold silver lever. I know it's here somewhere.
A satisfying flushing sound rushes to my ears, and I collapse backwards onto something large and warm. My eyes are still shut, my breathing erratic, and I can feel that single hot tear edging its way down my face.
Again I feel something large, cold and wet but this time on my forehead. Small rivulets of water run down over my temples and I swallow back the lump in my throat.
"You alright?" I hear someone ask. It's Oliver. I almost break out into tears because I'm so happy he's here. I open my eyes, and see him staring down at me. I shift a little and realize I'm resting my head on his thigh, and he's brushing the hair out of my face. I nod weakly and close my eyes.
"hatecrab," I mumble breathlessly.
"What?" he asks softly.
"I hate crab," I repeat. I feel his stomach jump with laughter.
"But you're ok now?" he asks again. I nod against him, but don't move.
We stay like that for about five minutes; me regaining my breath, and him stroking my hair softly.
"Want to go back to bed?" he whispers. I nod again, and he shifts so I'm laying on the bath mat, my legs straight out on the cold blue tile floor. I feel one hand making its way underneath my back, and the other beneath my knees. He hoists me up, then supports me on his knees while he situates me. This whole time I'm acting like a limp noodle, letting him form me against his body.
When he quits moving so much, I realize my legs are wrapped around his waist, and he's supporting me with one hand under my butt, and the other around my lower back. I rest my head against his shoulder and inhale deeply. Mmm, he smells like wet pine needles.
I open my eyes and see Oliver slowly lowering me onto the bed. He pulls one of my thin sheets over my thighs and I finally realize he saw me pretty scantily clad. I grip the edges of the sheets and pull it up to my waist as he sits down on the edge of the bed next to me, stroking my hair gently. Hair fetish maybe? Blah, too sick to be sarcastic this early. He sits there for a few minutes, his hand resting on my forehead. Suddenly I feel the weight at the edge of the bed get up. My eyes flash open.
"Oliver!" I call after him weakly. He turns around and looks at me.
"Don't go," I whisper. I see him smile in the moonlight and he gets in on the other side of the bed. He's laying on his side looking at me, resting his head on his arm. I close my eyes again. I like having him here – it's comforting. My eye lids are growing heavy and I'm finally able to get comfortable. Yawn...I'm falling asleep just to the sound of his breathing...
Hey guys, I'm doing this early cus I'm gunna be really busy today, but it'd be great to come home and see lots of reviews! And sorry, not enough time for hall of fame, but i'll do it next chapter! I promise! Thanks so much guys, love you all!
English-Foxlette