Chapter Seven
Jane
I crouch low, starring the chimera in the eyes. The lion's eyes that is. It would've been much too complicated to stare into the eyes of the goat and the snake at the same time. Michaela told me I was nuts, trying to find a monster, especially at five in the morning; I told her it was anger management. She didn't get it; of course, no one gave her instructions, to blend in, and integrate into high school society again. I wasn't a fan of high school the first time I was trapped there, and I'm not too eager to repeat the experience. If Artemis is going to expect me act like a normal high schooler, I'm going to kill a few monsters beforehand.
Not to mention the nightmares, if I'm going to stay sane, I can't be lying in a sleeping bag, trying to get to sleep again. I'd rather lose the pitiful sleep I'd have gotten, and be able to keep my head in the game. I can't be thinking about my mother or my stepfather when I'm in the field. Distractions and worries are not in my budget, now or ever.
I notch my arrow, aiming for the unflinching chimera, as we circle around each other, in a deadly dance. Finally, it lunges, its serpent's head moving around to strike. I let my arrow fly, watching as it lodges in its center, breaking straight through the body. The chimera falls to its side, before dissolving into ashes, bringing a whole new meaning to "ashes to ashes, dust to dust". Still not completely stable, I rise from my crouch, dusting off my jeans and retrieving my arrow. I'm not normally an adrenaline junky, but there's something about knowing that no matter what goes bump in the night, I will be fine. If I can handle a chimera, I can handle a couple of teenagers: even teenage boys. At least, I should be able to handle anything. I murmur a short prayer to Artemis and Athena, hoping to keep my wits about me today. Then again, I am dealing with Marcus and Zach, so maybe it's a lost cause.
…
Michaela insisted I change into skinny jeans, so here I am in way too tight pants, that don't leave anything to the imagination, and a camisole that shows far too much skin and is way too lacy for my taste. She insisted that if I was going to go about making myself seem normal, I might as well do it right. In her mind, normal includes lip-gloss and heels as well. Thankfully, I put my foot down when she brought up eyeliner. I tried with the heels, mainly because I can't run in them, and I'm screwed if I'm in danger. She doesn't see it that way, since she kept insisting that the heels were tiny. Tiny my….
They click ridiculously loudly as I slowly ascend the stairs, leading up to the front doors. A bit like Cinderella, except I am not a princess; and I am not looking for my prince charming. I hate that my entrances are now broadcasted; I like being a wallflower, thank you very much. Unfortunately, in such a small town, it's easier to blend in as ditz than as a slob: not that I'm a slob, I'm just not fashion forward.
I'm not used to this, being the notorious new girl. Before, I had lived in the same town for as long as I can remember and everybody. There was never anything to gossip about. I was just Jane, plain Jane, as cliché as it is. Not that I was invisible: I was just average. If I any one really noticed or stared at me, it was because I was Zach's girlfriend. Now I'm an animal on exhibit at the zoo.
I make my way to my locker, glad I was able to get rid of the labradoodle yesterday. A cold shoulder usually gets rid f the welcome wagon types quickly. Taking a deep breath, I try to recall the calm from after I killed the chimera. Nope, it's not working: there's too much testosterone around to even think about banishing my annoyance. Here's to another fun, easy day. (A girl can hope, right?)
Marcus
Kristen saunters across the lab in my first period class, swaying her hips in what I'm sure she thinks is a seductive manner. Personally, I think the movements are honestly quite bizarre. She perches herself on the window counter beside me, and leans forward while twirling her hair around her finger. I honestly thought that only idiots in movies did that.
"Know what I think?" She asks, and I'm this close to answering her honestly, before she continues. "We should go to that party this weekend." I nod and smile, like I'm listening to her. She makes everything sound like it's this huge revelation, when I was already planning on going, I don't know anyone who wasn't planning on going. Without even an eye roll, I pretend to listen to what she's saying. Kristen and I have an understanding, sort of. Whatever it is, it works and that's all I care about.
Instead of focusing on what she's saying, my mind wanders to Jane. I don't understand her in the slightest, not even a bit. I can't stop thinking about her. I don't what it is. It's not like she's gorgeous, not that she's ugly, it's just she's average. I should be bored with her, not so enamored. I don't get it. While I'm in la-la-land, Kristen parks her hand on my upper thigh.
"Right?" She confirms, biting her glossy lip. Her mascara coated eyelashes flutter, and her there's all this gold crap on her eyelids. Not like Jane, if my memory proves correct, she doesn't wear any make up what so ever. It's one of the many things that intrigue me about her: she's got the guts to be real.
"Yeah, definitely" I assure her, faking a grin, and she smiles and continues gabbing, giving me even more time to zone out. The most dangerous thing she could possible do would be to bore me, I have way too good of an imagination. Before long, the bell rings and we're dismissed.
A/N: Honestly, I hate the fact that I'm posting this author's note, but I'm really struggling with the story. I'm considering deleting it, though I'm not sure. I don't want to disappoint anyone, so if you want me to continue, please let me know.