Chapter Twelve
There's a simple explanation for everything apparently. That statement is sadly, only half true. There is of course an explanation behind everything, whether it's simple or not is debatable. I'm unperturbed when I find Bec offers no reason for tugging on my arm like I'm a child's toy. I'm still not surprised when I'm faced with hurrying along the same stretch of gravel I stumble over when visiting my own friend from the unknown.
I still don't have the courage to question this.
"The time's a little inconvenient, don't you think? Considering I have to skip an afternoon off school once in a while." Bec smiles a little, tapping her lips with her index finger when we slow to a relaxed walk. Her grip releases on me, and I'm able to feel the blood rush to my hand where the circulation had before been cut off by her clasp around my wrist. "Sometimes I'm lucky, and it's a weekend when I come down here. I suppose you don't have much trouble with Sylvie, though."
This agitates me. She knows more about this whole affair more than I do. I could argue about the fairness in this, although I feel that wouldn't help me in anyway nor would it make this scenario appear clearer if I were to verbalise my frustration. The air is different here. There's something different here. Something that isn't like what I'm used to. I could say it's simply because it's a different time of day, different light, different temperature. Of course, I'm simply denying myself the knowledge, the truth of the matter. The difference is simply the change in presence among the grounds. The difference is it not being Sylvie about to step down from the stone podium, but her significant other.
"What's she like?" Bec asks, her tone has changed. I look up from the ground and my gaze travels to her own. Her voice matches her frown, a somewhat desperate curiosity is leaking from her and I feel a small surge of pride that finally I know something she doesn't. This is very childish of me, I know, but so far I've not had any real control over the situation I've found myself in. She shivers and rubs her palms together. I notice at this point she's wearing nothing but her short sleeved school blouse and a pleated skirt that left her bare legs to fend for themselves. I sigh and swing my rucksack around, unzipping and fumbling inside before pulling out a spare hooded jacket of mine. A pair of boxers and a sock falls out. She looks at me with an eyebrow raised as I hand her the jacket before hastily shoving the other items back inside the bag.
"I always have spares." I state. This doesn't appear to be much of an explanation after seeing my boxers in my school bag. "A lot of clothes get ruined at school. I'm sure you can imagine the rest after today." I refer non-specifically to our first encounter with my chair humiliation. She nods and smiles sympathetically before hoisting my bag back around to my back and zipping it up for me.
"So, seriously. Tell me about her. Danny doesn't really talk about her much. I think it get's to him." She sits down on the bench opposite the statue watching it. I follow her eyes line and allow my own to fix upon it. Sylvie's stone figure sits cross-legged watching a small wall that separates her from Danny, who sits exact to her position, except his palms lie flat to the wall, pressed hard against it. Bec's fingers click in front of my face, and I'm aware she's still awaiting me to make some sort of response. I turn to face her and say.
"Doesn't it scare you?"