Disclaimer: Not mine, yo. Don't sue. Title inspired by Hush Little Baby.
Author's Note: Kind of a filler but hopefully not too boring. Thanks for reading y'all.
Chapter 2: Hush Little Girl, Don't Say a Word
The day dawned cold and miserable, the rain pouring down in great sheets. I crawled out of bed, sluggishly, my hands reaching blindly for the blaring alarm clock. I hesitated over the snooze button, considering the idea of a ten golden minutes tucked under the covers but my bladder convinced me otherwise. I slipped into the bathroom, answering nature's persistent call before stepping into the blazing hot shower.
My eyes opened slowly for the first time that morning as the scalding water hit my hair, and I picked up the shampoo bottle, my mind whirring over the events in Geometry yesterday. Thankfully, it was Saturday morning and as miserable as it was, I had places to be and no Jared to hide from. I was safe it seemed at least for the weekend.
Our A.P. Art professor had assigned our final projects two days ago, and I was dying to get a start on it. Art was my passion, I've been painting since kindergarten, and I haven't stopped since. Our final project was based on the articulation of a human model through watercolor.
That wouldn't be much of an issue, I thought to myself, looking out the small oblong window along the eastern wall of my bathroom. The rain showed no sign of letting up today but my business was indoors at Stroke, the newest paint store in Port Angeles that boasted an incredibly fine line of watercolors that I'd saved up for the past few weeks for.
Stepping out of the shower and toweling off, I breezed passed the fogged over mirror and into paint splattered jeans and an off the shoulder gray top. A vest, a beret and a set of navy boots later I was on my way out the door, submerged in a giant winter jacket and an even larger umbrella. The wait for the bus would be miserable but oh-so worth it.
The only problem about this project thus far was the identification of the subject, I assumed I'd stumble upon some grisly old man smoking a pipe on a forgotten bench somewhere in town and inspiration would strike. But knowing away at the back of my mind was the lack of novelty in stumbling upon a subject. My art teacher was forever insisting upon activity in art, choosing our subjects, choosing our colors, choosing our weather…the list went on and on.
Colors no problem, weather, well the weather on the reservation was fairly consistent so that was another check mark. But subject. Friends were not really my specialty, and my parents were occupied. My father worked in a law firm in Seattle, returning home for the weekends and my mother at a boutique down the street from him. I'd been given the opportunity to transfer with them but I'd been half way through high school and the thought of making new friends, and perhaps leaving a certain six foot two native swayed my decision to the negative. I was resolute and they, bless them, were busy and all too willingly to sign me checks and see me on the weekend. I worked for money though; they were always rather large fans of earning your supper.
It got a bit lonely, I suppose, on the weekends but in general, I was at ease on my own and I had Dante, my loyal top of the line security system to keep me safe.
I tightened my jacket, the cold seeping in through the neck of the fleece. My umbrella swayed slightly in the wind but I grasped it firmly and then maneuvered it shut quickly before jumping on the bus. It would be a long ride to Port Angeles, public transportation tended to slow down in the weather but it would be worth it.
The store proved to be prolific and I purchased a two hundred dollar set of 212 shades. I couldn't wait to put them to the test. I had just gotten off the bus, the rain having thankfully let up since I left this morning when a warm hand grabbed my shoulder and pulled me into an alley way.
I backed up, pushing my hair out of my face to be met eye-to-chest with Jared. He had placed a hand firmly behind my right shoulder and the other one maintained it's steady grip on my left.
"Hi." The word came out wavering and I tried to slow my heart, which was beating furiously, partly at the sudden shock and partly because of his proximity. I could smell the clean, expensive cologne that shrouded him, and his gunmetal fleece was softer than I could have possibly imagined when it brushed against me. It took all of my concentration not to give into the temptation of rubbing my achingly cold cheek into the material that was inches away from my face.
"Yeah. Look, I know you might think you saw something on Friday but you didn't. Got it?" His voice was tight and frustrated and I felt his fingers clench to enunciate his point. I grimaced slightly at the grip but he didn't seem to notice.
"Okay. Yeah-um, I didn't see anything." I stuttered out, my nerves getting the best of me. He was intimidating up close. I knew he wouldn't do anything horrible, Jared, all the bravado aside, was a fairly stand up guy. He was respectful to the elders, got decent grades and was nice to his girlfriends, although his gaze tended to wander.
His eyes cleared for a second and I think he noticed my wincing because his grip loosened significantly. I let out a breath as blood began to flow back into the region and the pin pricks of awareness set in.
"Uh, sorry about that." He looked a bit sheepish but it disappeared as quickly as it appeared.
"Nina and I just, we hit a rough patch okay, and I needed some space. And you know how Tracey is…" He started to ramble and I almost melted, his nerves were beyond adorable.
"Look, it's okay, just forget about it. I won't tell anyone." His face melted into relief and he shot a quick grin at me, and my knees liquefied. I leaned back against the brick wall, heavily, my hands finding purchase in the cracks to steady myself. I hadn't been on the receiving end of one of those in…well ever.
It was something; let me tell you.
He took a step back and then another, as if suddenly realizing our proximity.
"Thanks, uh, you're really helping me out."
"You're welcome." He nodded; pleased with himself but then almost as if he couldn't stop himself, he spoke again.
"I'll see you around…" His voice trailed off hopefully and I was at a loss before it hit me, and my heart dropped to my feet and rolled away down the corridor.
He didn't know my name.
"It's Kim." I supplied, my eyes on my feet, voice muted. Figures.
"Right, Kim, yeah." I could feel the shadow of remorse; he really was a nice guy.
"I owe you one." I looked up at him in surprise before my face melted into a smile. His eyes widened a little and I felt my heart roll back towards me a little. My palms started to sweat as he smiled at me again before backing out of the alley way quickly and shuffling off down the street.
I stayed there, unable to move for a good ten minutes until any wisp of him or his cologne had disappeared. Everything seemed colder and dimmer suddenly. My bag of paints, clutched in my hand seemed insignificant and I took a shaky step away from the wall. All of the need to paint had left my system and I slowly walked away, replaying and rewinding all the way home.
Suddenly I couldn't wait until Monday.