WRITINGMON! :-
This one's for you, LadyBlanc!
Since you're so called 'obsessed'
with this worthless trash :PChapter Five - The Bad Angel
“Thanks dad,” I kissed my dad on his left cheek and reached to the back of the car to get my backpack and paint case.
It was Saturday morning already. I’d asked my dad to drop me off the house on which I was supposed to work on with the interior designer, Naomi.
“No problem sweetie. Call me when you’re done. Have fun!” he told me.
“Will do.” I stepped out of the car and waved to my dad until he was out of sight. All rightie. Time to get to work.
I stopped at the iron gates of the house I was supposed to be at. I studied the outer part of the house and the garden surrounding it. I ran my eyes once more over the gate and noticed a button. Probably the doorbell.
I pushed it.
As soon as I did, a pretty woman who was probably in her thirties or forties, dressed in t-shirt and slacks, opened the doors and hurried towards the gate.
“Oh dear! I’m so sorry!” she apologized, letting me into the house compound.
The woman had dark and straight, ebony hair, and dark blue eyes. Her eyes, I noticed were a very interesting color. Sort of like blue hyacinths. She was a little taller than me.
“Now, you must be Hera Wolfe! Am I right? I thought was talking about your personality when she said you were an absolute angel!” she said, ushering me into the house.
“Nice to meet you, miss,” I said politely.
She laughed. “Oh no, my name is Naomi. So please, call me Naomi.”
“All right.” I nodded. “Nice to meet you Naomi.”
She beamed at me. “Come on; let me show you the living room! We’ll be redecorating that area first.”
Naomi led me to the living room. Apparently, she had already gotten ready for the redecorating. There were stacked up boxes at the archway which led into the living room and no furniture was left in it.
She noticed me looking at the boxes. “My son will come for those boxes later. He’s not here at the moment.”
“Is this your house?” I asked.
She nodded. “That’s right. I thought the house was looking a little drab, so I thought of going to the gallery to purchase some paintings. I saw your artwork and she told me they weren’t really for sale. Then she told me if I’d like to, she’ll ask for you to work with me.”
I looked around the spacious area. The walls were all bare and white. And the floor was a plush, black carpet, covered with newspapers along the wall. “So, what do you want me to do?” I was eager to get to work.
She thought for awhile. “I was wondering. Could we make the living room to a nice, elegant orient-Japanese sort of theme?”
Instantly, many ideas came to my mind. I nodded enthusiastically. “That’d be awesome.”
Naomi grinned at me. She gestured to the blank stretch of wall on the left side of the living room. “Knock yourself out.”
“Are you serious? You’re not worried I might paint something you don’t like?”
“Are you kidding? I loved all your artwork at the gallery!” Naomi said, enthusiastic. “I wouldn’t mind if you painted blood and gore all over!”
I laughed. “All right, but that kind of theme isn’t what I have in mind right now.”
Naomi gave me a thumbs up. “Go for it! I’ll be in the kitchen sorting out fabric patterns for the furniture covers.”
Naomi left me alone in the living room and I dragged my backpack and paint case over to the blank stretch of wall. I sat down on the floor in front of it, trying to visualize the completed product. I decided to paint a mural, or something similar. Perhaps a Japanese garden.
I took out a wooden pencil and got onto my feet. I started sketching outlines of drawings and patterns that I was going to eventually paint in. I thought of drawing a huge cherry tree on the left side of the wall but there was one problem….
“Uhh, Naomi?” I called out.
“Yes Hera?” Naomi came into the living room. “Is there a problem?”
I shook my head. “Not really. But if it isn’t any trouble, could I have a ladder? I’m not exactly on the tall side.”
She nodded at me with an amused look on her face. “Oh of course. That will be no problem at all. Wait a second.”
She left the room. “Oh Sky!” I heard her say. “Would you mind taking the ladder from the basement for me?”
I heard a faint voice say, “Sure.”
A few minutes later, I heard a familiar British voice say, “What am I supposed to do with the ladder?”
I heard Naomi reply, “Oh, please give it to the young lady in the living room. Thank you Sky.”
“Oh, a young lady? Is she pretty or cute?” I heard the voice jokingly say. “My age?”
Naomi seemed to laugh. “I’m sure you’ll like her.”
Sky. British voice. If my suspicions were right, it’s definitely got to be……………..
I didn’t need to look back because the dude who brought the ladder into the room suddenly said out loud in an –unfortunately- sexy British accent, “Oh hey! It’s the little blonde girl who bites!”
“Hey! You’re blonde too you know!” I said, irritated. “And besides, I have a name…”
I turned around and I wasn’t exactly ready for what I was supposed to see. Skyler McKnight, shirtless. In swimming trunks. And he had…. Let’s just say a body which pretty much rivals Ashton’s. I knew he was lean, but I never thought he would have one hell of a body. My eyes ran over the contours of his toned six packs, which weren’t too big or too small either. His shoulders were muscular, broad and ran down to his biceps and triceps.
“Put on a shirt. If not, you’re paying for my hospital or optician bills. Whichever,” I muttered, turning back to face the wall. I felt hotness creeping up my neck to my cheeks.
He took my shoulder and turned me around to face him. My eyes met the labyrinth of his bluish-green ones.
“What’s wrong Blondie? Am I really that unsightly?” he asked me, a mock hurt look on his face.
His hair was damp and tousled, slightly darker, as if he had just come out from the shower or swimming pool. I’d pick the latter, seeing as he was wearing swimming trunks.
“Hey, at least a ‘hi’ from someone like you would’ve been nice,” Skyler said, setting up the ladder for me. “Where do you want this?”
I pointed my hand to the direction where I wanted the ladder, refusing to meet his gaze.
“So Blondie, what exactly are you doing here?” Skyler asked me, tilting my chin up, making me look in at him in the eye. I didn’t notice yesterday, but he had a small silver cross piercing in his left ear.
“Hey, you have to talk to me sometime, you know,” he muttered, his gaze, intense.
Somehow, Skyler looked way different than he had when I met him yesterday. I didn’t know how to describe it but he looked and felt different to me. He was still the same cocky British whom I met yesterday, but still, he was kind of different.
He leant in towards me, his mouth now beside my left ear. Again, I felt the heat rising upwards.
“Did I do something to offend you little lady?” he asked softly.
I felt my heart beat wildly and a lump formed in my throat. I was mentally panicking. I’ve never been in such a situation before. Where my feelings were messed up, confused. Ugh, now, I have bleached my record of not having trouble speaking to people, even if they were hot. Wait, no, Skyler’s not hot. No way. He’s just good-looking. But… he is kind of hot I guess….. NO WAY. He’s not. He’s not. .NOT.
“Herr-ra,” he whispered, now closer than ever. I could feel his warm breath on my neck now.
Suddenly, Skyler nuzzled my ears with his nose. Without meaning to, I pushed him away from me.
“Whoa little lady!” Skyler said, with an obviously shocked look on his face.
He held up his hands. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to freak you out!” He had a guilty look on his face.
“It’s nothing,” I muttered. I took out a scrunchie from the pocket of my shorts and scooped up my hair. I let my side fringe fall over my eyes and climbed onto the top of ladder.
I tried to calm down my breathing. In. Out. In. Out.
There, I felt better again. Peaceful. Calm. I reached up my hand to begin drawing my desired tree. Then I realized that I had forgotten about my pencil. Oh well, better get down to get it.
I was carefully feeling with my right foot for the next bottom step.
“You alright Hera? “ Skyler asked.
My foot slipped and I lost my footing.
I heard Skyler swear really loudly. “Blondie!”
The next thing I knew was that I had crashed onto Skyler and I was sprawled across him on the soft floor. I quickly sat up.
“Are you really alright?” Skyler asked. He reached up to hold my face and turned it towards his direction.
“I should be asking you that.”
“You look a little pale, Blondie,” he said with a worried frown on his face, instead of a pained one.
“Y-yeah, I’m always pale,” I stammered, I took his hands off my cheeks and quickly got off him, embarrassed.
I wrapped my arms around myself, feeling self-conscious. I felt part of my left arm was sore, tender, kind of wet. I looked at it. Great. There was a bloody cut-probably from scraping against the sharp corners of the ladder steps-, with a massive bruise forming beneath.
“Now, that’s not good. You could have your arm amputated if it gets infected. Or probably die from severe infection,” I heard Skyler say. He took hold of my hand, deaf to my protesting, and dragged me out to the kitchen.
“Sit down. I beg of you,” he told me firmly and sat me down on a wooden chair at a wooden-marble-topped table. The kitchen was empty.
I noticed several books with patterns in them were spread out on the table. Where was Naomi? I didn’t want to be alone in the kitchen with her-
Wait. If Skyler was her son, why didn’t she look anything like him? Or even have that British accent? It was weird. I shook my head. No, it’s not the time to be distracted and nosy about something which wasn’t important. I should focus on Skyler, in case he tries something funny. Like suddenly taking a butchering knife and mauling my head.
I watched Skyler’s back as he rummaged through some kitchen cupboards. My eyes trailed over the muscular ridges of his toned back. Hmm… he probably works out. Then my mind wandered back to when he said my name…. I didn’t feel anything when he said my name yesterday while introducing me to everyone else, but it felt somehow different today. Why was it? Every time he said my name it was like…
“Hera?”
I snapped back to reality, my heart picking up rate again.
“Y-yeah?”
I saw Skyler holding a first aid box. He cleared some space on the kitchen table to put the first aid box on it. I watched him as he opened the box and took out some cotton pads and a bottle full of sterilizing alcohol.
He approached me cautiously, as if I was about to erupt.
“Now, Blondie. Whatever I do next, if it hurts, you can slap me or anything. But it’s for your own good. Please bear with it,” he murmured gently, as if I was a little child. He took hold of my injured arm slowly and carefully swiped the cotton pad over my cut. I winced and twitched a little.
As soon as he had cleaned my cut, he smeared on some antiseptic ointment on my cut and placed cotton gauze carefully over it and taped it into place.
“There,” he said, a satisfied look on his face. “That wasn’t so bad now, was it? I had to use a cotton gauze because there were no band-aids that could’ve covered up your cut. Don’t pick off the scab, you hear? Are you okay? Did you hit your head?”
I think I hit my head and have gone crazy. Was this nurturing, gentle Skyler the same cocky British murderer-slash-assaulter I met yesterday? I shook my head.
“I don’t think so,” I felt around my head to make sure. Yep, no sore areas. I sighed.
“That’s a relief,” Skyler said. He proceeded to discard the bloody cotton pads and put away the first aid box.
I got up to leave.
“Where do you think you’re going?” I heard him demand.
I turned around. “Back to my work?”
He shook his head. “No. Sit down. You’ve just fallen off a ladder. You need to recover from the shock first.”
I sat down. “But I’m perfectly fine!” I argued, “Besides, what about you? I fell on you!”
Skyler grinned. “Oh, I’m fine. That was kind of a surprise though, it’s not like I have little blonde ladies falling onto me every day. You’re also quite clumsy, I see.”
I didn’t have the heart to, but anyway, I glared at him. “Yes, is that illegal?”
“So now, I’m your knight in shining armor, am I?” he asked me, winking.
I felt the familiar flush rising to break out onto my face again. I stood up abruptly.
“That’s it!” I said. “I can’t take it! I’m going back to my work!”
I stormed out of the kitchen angrily.
“Hey! Blondie!” I heard him call helplessly from the kitchen.
I ignored him. How dare he? Calling himself my knight in shining armor!
I huffed all the way into the living room and picked up my pencil and climbed up the stinkin’ ladder again. Stupid Skyler. He’s such an idiot. I hate him. Him and his stupid, suave, hot, sexy- WAIT!
He is not stupid, suave, hot, sexy-
Wait, he IS stupid. He’s just not suave or hot or sexy. No Way. Not in a million light years.
I pressed my pencil against the wall lightly and sketched out the outline of the cherry tree. Trying to calm myself down. I will not let a stupid debonair British hot- sorry-not hottie spoil my supposedly fun job. No way. Not a chance in hell.
After I finished sketching the tree, I carefully stepped down the ladder. I realized it already had been more than an hour since I got here. And that Skyler hadn’t bothered to come after me. Why was that so?
I slapped my cheeks lightly. Don’t think about Skyler. You dislike Skyler. Ignore him. Forget about him. I sharpened my already blunt pencil and continued to sketch on the wall. At the moment, I should just concentrate on it.
“Hera?” I heard Naomi call, her voice distant.
I withdrew my paintbrush from the wall and turned around. I saw Naomi standing there with several paper bags in her hands.
“Hey,” I greeted her, putting down my paintbrush and wiping my hands with a damp cloth. “You went shopping?”
Naomi shook her head, “I went out for a couple of hours to pick up some orders from town. So how’s it going?”
I looked back at my incomplete soon-to-be masterpiece. Naomi dropped her bags and walked up beside me to look at it as well.
“Not too bad, I suppose,” I said, taking a step backwards for a better look. I had finished painting in the cherry tree and was now painting the other parts of the wall. I don’t mean to brag, but it looks so awesome and realistic.
“Hera, that’s wonderful!” Naomi breathed. She turned to me with a happy and contented smile. “You’re probably the best artist I’ve ever worked with!”
I gave her a sheepish grin. “Gee, thanks Naomi. But you’re giving me too much credit.”
“Oh! Don’t be modest! Well, I think you should have lunch now, it’s almost one. And I’m absolutely sure you haven’t had your- oh dear!” she said, her expression suddenly worried.
I blinked a couple of times. “What’s wrong?”
“What happened to your arm?” she asked me, taking it to look at it.
Oh. That.
“Oh, it’s nothing. Just a cut,” I told her, feeling a little uncomfortable. I hoped she’d not ask me who dressed it for me.
“Who bandaged your arm? Or did you have your own emergency first aid kit?” she asked me.
“Well….” I started. “I kind of-“
“I did that for her,” I heard that same British voice which had been haunting my mind for the past few hours. “She’s too clumsy to do it on her own.”
“Skyler,” I muttered stubbornly.
“Hey,” Skyler grinned at the both of us. He was already out of his swimming trunks and was wearing a blue sleeveless hoodie and dark-colored jersey shorts. At least, thank God for that. But I still could see his biceps which were mildly distracting.
“Hello Sky, I presume by that, that you’ve met Hera Wolfe?” she asked. She picked up her bags again.
“Oh, we did more than meet. We bonded. Didn’t we? Blondie?” Skyler asked me, smirking. He stuck his hands into his pockets.
Naomi gave the both of us a skeptical look. “Well, I certainly don’t know what happened, but you’re also blonde, Sky.”
Hah. Take that, Skyler.
“But, I think you should take Hera out to lunch. It’s already quite late and I’ve not prepared anything for lunch. I’m sure you haven’t eaten yet, have you?” Naomi asked.
“That’s right. So I’ll bring the little lady out for lunch,” Skyler told her.
“Good. Drive safe, Sky,” And with that, Naomi disappeared, leaving me with the possible spawn of Satan.
I scowled at him. “I’m not going out with you for lunch, you murderer.”
“You still call me that after I saved you and treated your wounds?” he asked me.
“Whatever. I’m not hungry any-“ I stopped, my stomach growled. Oo-kay, that, was embarrassing.
“Well, I guess if you’re not hungry…” Skyler started.
“Fine,” I snapped, beginning to untie my overall which I had put on before beginning to paint, “I’ll follow you for lunch.”
Skyler had a satisfied look on his face. “Good. Now, if you will, please allow me to escort you out of the house.”
Skyler drove the both of us to a casual-looking restaurant somewhere in town.
“You can pry your fingers off the seatbelt now,” Skyler told me, as he shut off the engine.
He had forced me to ride shotgun with him. I agreed to, but I still tried to edge as far away from him as I could, while keeping a tight grip on the seatbelt. Apparently, the stupid idiot doesn’t know about the existence of speed limits.
I was still really doubtful about letting go of the seatbelt, until I saw Skyler take the key out. He held it up for me to see.
“For crying out loud! The key’s out now. See here? The car won’t move. It’s parked. Can you please get out so we can have lunch?” Skyler begged me.
I gave him a dirty look. “Don’t you know something called a ‘speed limit’?”
I got out of the car and tried my best to avoid slamming the door of his stupid, shiny Porsche.
“Well, could you teach me?” Skyler asked, stepping close to me and taking hold of my hand. His hand was warm and much bigger than mine.
I tried my best not to lose my cool.
“You could ask your driving instructor. And don’t tell me he or she’s in England or London or whatever. I’m sure you just recently got your license and that you told me that you transferred here some years ago. Not last year or this year,” I told him.
“Ahh, so you still remember. Do you have a good memory or are you interested in me?” he gave me a mysterious smile.
I couldn’t bite him back with a snappy retort because we were already entering the restaurant.
“Welcome! How can we help you?” the waitresses, who were manning the door, asked. They seemed like college girls, probably eighteen or nineteen. Skyler flashed them a million-dollar smile and they blushed and giggled deliriously.
Funny. It’s like déjà vu or something. The exact same thing happened with Ashton yesterday at Martin’s café. Except of course, I wasn’t with Ashton and holding his hand.
Right, I was holding Skyler’s hand. I tried to wriggle my hand out of his grasp, but he held on tight.
“Table for two please. It’s me and this feisty young lady here,” Skyler said smoothly, to the waitresses who were manning the door. I think his British accent made them swoon or something, because they were looking up at him with their eyes all big and doe-like and sighing quietly.
Huh. I thought in movies, the debonair hotties with their own sexy British accents usually say, “It’s me and this beautiful young lady here.”
I guess he wasn’t trying to be a debonair, suave hottie.
Eventually, they recovered from their love-slash-crush at first sight experience and one of them led us to a table.
As we took our seats, Skyler thanked the waitress who showed us to our table.
“Thank you miss,” Skyler said. “You certainly are very efficient.” And again, he flashed his million-dollar smile at her. I rolled my eyes as the waitress hyperventilated. As she walked away from our table, I swear I could hear her squealing “Ohmigod! Ohmigod!”
“What do you do? Take sweet-talking or flirting classes?” I queried, with a sarcastic note in my voice.
“Why? Did you fall in love with my way of speech?” he asked me, taking up a menu.
“Don’t be so cocky. Didn’t you see the way that the waitresses were so crazy about you?” I asked, reading the menu as well.
“What can I say? I’m well liked, wherever I go,” Skyler said, not bothering to be modest.
“What makes you think I like you?” I muttered.
Skyler looked at me. I could feel his intense stare again, making my heart beat faster.
“What is it?” I asked, I directed my eyes down at the menu. “It’s rude to stare, y’know.”
“Y-you don’t like me?” Skyler asked. He sounded crushed. Oops. I think he’s sensitive.
“I was just joking,” I said hastily. “I do like you.”
He brightened up, a smirk forming.
“As a friend, you perv,” I added quickly.
Skyler seemed to debate on my answer for awhile, and then raised his hand, beckoning a waiter to come and take our order.
“May I please take your order?” the waiter asked politely.
“Can I please have a ginger ale and a burger steak?” Skyler asked.
The waiter wrote it down and turned to me.
“Umm, can I have the spinach and cheese quiche and an iced lemon tea? Thank you,” I said hurriedly. I handed the waiter my menu. So did Skyler.
The waiter repeated our orders to Skyler, and then he left after saying a curt ‘thank you’ to Skyler. After he left, Skyler folded his arms and leaned in across the table, towards me.
“So you consider me just as a friend?” he asked me in his low, baritone voice.
I sucked in my breath. “Didn’t I just say that?”
He did his penetrating-suck-you-into-the-labyrinth-of-his-eyes thing again. I directed my eyes to look out of the huge glass windows.
“Hey, Blondie,” he called, to get my attention. “Why do you never look me in the eye for more than five seconds?”
I turned back to look at him, focusing on some part of his face near his eyes so that I wouldn’t appear to be avoiding his gaze. “Who says so? I’m looking at you right in the eye.”
Skyler rolled his eyes. “Don’t try to lie. I know that you’re just looking at some part near my eyes.”
“How’d you know? Are you a mind-reader?” I mumbled hotly.
“No. I’m most definitely not. However, I find it unsettling that someone like you is always avoiding my gaze. How can I get a good look at your eyes?” he asked.
Bingo. My turn to ask him an annoying question.
“Then why do you always describe me as ‘someone like you’?” I countered.
But Skyler seemed to have an answer for that. “Well, in my eyes, you’re very indescribable. The adjectives beautiful, cute, wonderful, and pretty or whatnots don’t seem to suit you perfectly. You are definitely more than that.”
He edged in closer to my face, I felt the heat rising. Again. “Herr-ra,” he whispered.
He suddenly sat back and a few moments later, the same waiter who took our orders came to our table with our orders on a tray. Skyler, being the classic British gentle-not-man he was, tipped the waiter. I picked up my fork and stuck it into my quiche. The crust smelt warm and buttery. I forked up some of the piping hot quiche and carefully put it in my mouth. Delicious.
I watched as Skyler cut a piece of his steak and put it in his mouth, chewed and swallowed it.
He caught me watching him. “Want a piece? It’s quite nice actually,” he offered.
I wrinkled my nose. “Has it ever occurred to you that you’re eating part of an innocent cow?”
His eyes darted towards my quiche and his face seemed to light up with amusement. “So you’re a vegetarian, are you now?”
I made a face at him. “Congratulations. You win a Nobel Prize for discovering one of the Earth’s most fascinating secrets.”
Skyler chuckled. “You’re really much more than I expected when I first met you. So, you do it for humanity or for obtaining a pogo-stick thin figure?”
“I’m not interested in looking like a pogo-stick, thank you very much. Besides, people on diets don’t eat cheese. I’ve been a vegetarian since I was three. I’m not vegan though. I just don’t eat meat. I watched this documentary when I was three and yeah,” I explained.
“I think those kinds of documentaries where they kill and process animals are rather fascinating actually,” Skyler said. “I like how they rip the chicken gullets out.”
He laughed at my look of horror. “I was kidding. It’s inhumane really. But those sorts of things don’t affect me much.”
“Oh…” We ate in silence for a while and then I decided to break it.
“So, you don’t look much like your mom,” I said. “She doesn’t even have that accent you have.”
Skyler looked at me as if I were crazy. “You mean Naomi?”
“Naomi?” I asked, confused.
“Wow, you’re not only clumsy, you’re dense too,” he chuckled.
I looked down and concentrated on sucking my straw, feeling embarrassed.
“She’s not my mom. She’s my aunt. I just live with my aunt, uncle and cousin,” Skyler explained.
“I’m sorry,” I muttered, guilty.
“Oh, don’t be. My parents are alive, well and still married if you’re thinking that way.”
Damn. He must be a mind-reader. I said nothing.
“My parents have their own car company.”
That explains his Porsche.
“They’re always travelling for their work, making deals all around the world. I decided that I wanted to stay in one place at least until I finish my education. Naomi offered to house me until then. So, I guess I’m eternally grateful to them,” Skyler told me.
Wow. So he does know of the existence of the word ‘grateful’.
“So, why are you on the arithmetic team anyway?” Skyler asked me.
Finally. A question that I can actually answer. And proudly, nonetheless.
With a smirk, I told him, “Has it ever struck you that I’m not exactly a good girl?”
Skyler pretended to think for a while. “I never thought of you being good or bad. You struck me as being on the neutral side.”
I stuck my tongue out at him. “I got into trouble. Then I was booted off the debate team and restricted art room access. Arithmetic team’s a punishment.”
“Really. Do you consider it to be a punishment?” Skyler asked me.
“No, not really. I feel like I’m just going for tutoring classes or something,” I admitted.
There was a peaceful silence as the both of us returned to eating our lunch.
“So,” Skyler said, after he was done, “You’re Hera Wolfe, the trouble maker huh? Are you a cruel person like the Goddess Hera herself?”
“So you are aware of the origins of my name?”
“Certainly. I wrote an essay on Greek Gods back in elementary school in London,” Skyler told me. “It was a fascinating subject.”
He wrote an essay. In elementary school. On Greek Gods. He thought it was a fascinating subject.
He must be one damned smart-ass.
“Well, I don’t know, what do you think?” I asked him, referring to his question earlier.
“Well, you’re a vegetarian. Does that count for something?” Skyler wondered out loud. “On the other hand, the Goddess Hera herself had a nurturing side as well….”
I left Skyler to contemplate on his thoughts and focused on the drink in front of me, feeling self-conscious. I tried to ignore the stares that the female staff were giving me as if I had grown another head or something.
I finally finished my drink and quiche and fortunately, Skyler had also finished his own meal. Wonderful, I can go back to Naomi’s and away from Skyler and his creepy fan-girls now.
“Can we go now?” I asked, hopeful.
Skyler tutted. “I must get the check first you know. Is it really that horrible being with me?”
Oh, it’s much, much more than horrible. But I didn’t have the heart to say it to him.
“No,” I lied. “I just need to get back to work. We’ve probably been here for almost an hour you know. Naomi’ll be wondering where we are.”
Skyler gave me a skeptical look. But he just stood up and went to the cashier counter to pay for our meal. I think I owe him for the meal. After I saw Skyler scoop up his change and tucking them it into his wallet, I quickly got up my seat and hurriedly walked out of the restaurant while saying ‘thank you’ to the waitresses who bade me goodbye and told me to come again.
Meanwhile, Skyler, that English idiot, took his sweet time walking to the door and smiling to the waitresses and saying that he enjoyed their hospitality. I folded my arms and scowled at him from beside his car. I watched impatiently as he exchanged a few words with the waitresses and then finally exiting the restaurant.
He came up to the driver’s side of the car, unlocked the doors and we got in. After I positioned myself safely away from Skyler-who rolled his eyes-, got buckled up and had my hands gripping the belt like steel claws, I turned to him and said, “All right, in this case, ignore the speed limits. Let’s get back to your house as fast as possible.”
He merely laughed. “Blondie, Blondie…..I may drive fast, but I’m still at least a little below the maximum speed limit you know. Driving fast gives me an adrenaline rush. I thought you Yanks were more easy-going and loose you know?”
He started the car engine and revved a few times before pulling out from the parking lot. Whee… not. Here we go. I fervently pray to God that I survive this little trip and make it back to Naomi’s in one piece.
I took a step backwards to marvel at my finished work. I thought it would take probably two or three days at most to complete the mural, but I finished it in one day. That’s probably a good record. I looked at the grandfather clock that was placed at the archway of the living room entrance. It was already six thirty. Probably almost more than four hours since I came back from lunch with Skyler.
I miraculously came back to Naomi’s in one piece. As soon as Skyler had parked his car in the garage, I had bolted out straight into the living room. Both to get on with my work and to get away from Skyler.
Skyler had kept the silence broken by talking to me about all kinds of random subjects. The only signs of my participation in this more or less animated conversation were a few comments here and there. It had become increasingly awkward for me to be in the same room with him. I wonder how was I going to survive being on the arithmetic team.
I dropped my paintbrush into the small bucket of dark colored water and wiped my hands on a damp, paint-splattered cloth.
“Are you done already? That was quick work,” I heard Naomi’s voice coming closer into the living room.
I was satisfied with the shocked look of surprise on Naomi’s face.
“That’s a very beautiful mural, Hera!” Naomi exclaimed. “Just the thing I had in mind. Except, better!”
“Thanks Naomi. I guess I’ll get going home now. I’ll come by tomorrow if you want. I have nothing to do. Or if you want your Sunday to be private, it’s fine with me…” I said.
“Oh, no! That’ll be alright. If you want to come tomorrow, you’re very welcome. Besides, I think my nephew has taken quite a fancy to you,” Naomi said, chuckling.
I blushed and ducked my head down and started collecting my dirty paintbrushes and dumping them into my bucket of water.
“The paint is still wet,” I informed Naomi. “I advise you to keep the living room off limits until tomorrow morning. Where can I wash my brushes?”
“All right. You can wash them in the kitchen. Thank you Hera. Really,” Naomi replied.
I nodded and smiled at her and carefully carried my dirty brushes, cloths and bucket into the kitchen. I dumped them into the kitchen sink and began washing them. After I was done, I packed up my stuff and went to look for Naomi to tell her that I was going home.
I found her playing chess with Skyler in the study. I pretended not to notice Skyler and looked right at Naomi.
“I’ll be going home now, Naomi,” I told her.
Naomi looked up from their game and asked, “Who’s coming to pick you up? You don’t drive yet, am I right?”
Oh. Right. I forgot to call my dad in advance. He’s probably at home now. I don’t want to bother him. Oh well, I guess I’ll take the bus. The nearest bus stop’s just a few miles away.
“I think I’ll take the bus,” I answered.
Naomi frowned. “There are no more buses after this time at the nearest bus stop.”
Damn.
“I guess I’ll walk home then. Walking’s good for the health,” I said, trying to sound positive. I hitched my backpack up on my shoulder.
“But you’ve worked so hard for the whole morning and afternoon. It would be a crime to send a child like you, walking home,” Naomi said. She sounded worried.
I noticed Skyler has been very quiet since I entered. I snuck a sideways glance at him. Ugh. He was smirking. The cocky jerk.
I opened my mouth to say something, but Skyler rudely interrupted.
“If I may say so, Naomi. I would gladly bring the young lady home,” Skyler said.
No. Please say no. Please say no.
Unfortunately, Naomi brightened up and said, “That’s a fine idea! You can drive Hera home!”
“No, that won’t be neces-“
Skyler got up and dug his car keys out of his pocket. He flashed a heart-fluttering grin at me. “Shall we milady?”
Well, at least he didn’t call me ‘Blondie’.
Comment if you will. WRITINGMON! OVER AND OUT!
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