Authors: Arreyn Grey
She sighed. “Sadly, probably not. But I'm ugly, and that's worse.”
Alex's face darkened, his eyebrows drawing together as he frowned at her. “Whoever's been telling you that is lying to you.” He said, an undertone of fierceness in his voice that she didn't know quite how to take.
“I don't mean literally ugly,” she said, waving off his concern. “Physical ugliness, people don't care about-- it makes them feel better about themselves to have something so uncomplicated to pity and look down on. I'm talking about―” she stopped abruptly. “You know, it's really not important.” Elise looked out across the small lake they were passing, bearing down on her emotions to keep herself in check. She hadn't meant to say so much. Behind her, she heard Alex let out a breath.
“If you say so,” he said lightly. When she turned back to him, resolutely composed, he continued. “But I suppose that means I shouldn't ask about that mysteriously miserable mood you fell into during Latin class?”
Elise's mouth opened slightly in shock. “How did you--” she cut herself off again. How stupid of her-- he was clearly observant. She had probably given herself away by slumping in her seat, or frowning the whole period, or just generally looking mopey. And honestly, he'd probably been taking an educated guess-- which she had just confirmed. Still, it bothered her a little bit that he paid so much attention to her. “It was nothing,” she lied. “I was just bored. Frankly, I'm sure you were, too-- review is tedious.”
“You have no idea,” he murmured. She raised an eyebrow at him, inviting him to continue, but he just smiled innocently.
Elise paused near the trunk of a huge, old oak tree, feeling steady and brave enough to venture into less pleasant territory. “So, since we're talking personal issues here, would this be a good time for me to ask you why exactly you decided to threaten my life yesterday?” She asked, trying not to sound too snippy.
To her annoyance, Alex just shrugged and laughed. “I'm just, you know, the new guy trying to make a name for himself in an unfamiliar school. Suppose this time I'd rather be a dark, mysterious, devastatingly sexy... can I say mystery twice?”
Despite herself, Elise was laughing again. “As opposed to your last school? What were you there?”
“I told you-- the subject of all the witch hunts,” he chuckled.
“Okay, fine, well if you want me to forgive you for threatening to kill me, you're going to have to make it up to me,” Elise said archly, crossing her arms over her chest to demonstrate her seriousness.
“How do I do that?” Alex asked, his entire demeanor slavishly contrite. Elise had to work hard to hold onto her straight face.
“Well, for starters, never do it again,” she said with mock-severity. “Beyond that...” She pursed her lips, pondering dramatically. Behind her flirtatious antics, her sharp mind worked as she studied him intently. He looked cocky, chin up despite the fact that he had to look down at her. He was also definitely enjoying this-- the tucks in the corners of his lips suggested he was suppressing a delighted grin. Underneath the arrogance and the humor, however, there seemed to be just a hint of actual sincerity. It was only a hint, though, and so Elise raised her own chin and threw her shoulders back. “Why don't you tell me?” She finally said, meeting his eyes in a challenge.
“Oh?” He asked, for once looking slightly puzzled. Elise relished the expression.
“Oh, yes,” she said sweetly, her hazel eyes glinting dangerously. “What do you think is fair compensation for making me fear for my life?”
He looked her up and down again, less appreciatively this time and more like he was assessing her, measuring her up. She met his eyes squarely when they returned to her face, an eyebrow raised. “Find what you were looking for?” She asked, her voice sugary.
“You're serious, aren't you?” His eyebrows drew together in a frown. “I actually scared you?”
“Yes and no. My life isn't over or anything, but Alex,” her voice dropped to a whisper and he, it seemed unconsciously, leaned a little closer to hear. “I don't like being threatened.”
“Well, then, you're going to hate me,” he whispered back. She barely had a second to process his words before he stepped towards her, turning the tables as he invaded her space. Without thinking, she stepped back, giving ground until her back hit the gnarled bark of the oak's trunk. She stayed there, pressed against it, with his face scant inches from hers. His hands were braced against the trunk on either side of her head, boxing her in, and he was leaning down so that she, standing on the roots of the tree, was almost at the same level he was.
“I'm not afraid of you,” Elise lied softly.
“I can change that,” he replied with an edge to his voice; she felt his warm breath brush over her cheek.
Her heart was thundering in her ears, and her skin was cold. Her palms were slippery with sweat, sliding over the rough tree bark. She clenched her teeth together to keep her lip from quivering; she felt trapped as bands of panic compressed her chest, keeping her from getting enough air.
“Alex?” She was still whispering.
“Yes?” He murmured. His deep blue eyes were intense as they met hers, and she noticed how thick his black eyelashes were. His skin was milky, pale and flawless, without the blemishes that every teenager had. She noticed again how full his lips looked, smooth and inviting, and her own lips parted slightly in anticipation. She saw his mouth quirk up just a bit at the corners-- she hurriedly looked back into his eyes, and saw that they were twinkling with mirth. He was trying not to laugh.
“Get off me,” she growled, putting a hand on his chest to shove him away.
For a moment, he didn't budge-- she may as well have tried to push the tree. He felt like flesh and bone, like anyone, but even people much stronger than she was would give a little bit, just at first, if she tried to push them away-- it was just physics-- especially when she had something as solid as the huge tree to brace against. But for the barest second, she pushed as hard as she could and Alex stood as still as a stone.
Then the moment was past, and he stumbled away from her, exaggerating comically as he chuckled. “So fierce!” He cried, clutching his chest where she'd pushed him and pantomiming a horrific death from a mortal wound. Elise stood still, pressed against the tree, ignoring his antics as she struggled to force down the fear that had spiked at his aggressive proximity and her momentary inability to budge him. She still wanted to enjoy the day. She wasn't done playing yet. She was not going to let irrational fear ruin this. By the time he had collapsed into stillness, presumably dead in the fluffy grass, she had recovered herself enough to fake a brilliant smile.
Elise flounced over to him, plopping herself huffily by his hip and looking down at his face. His eyes were closed, tongue lolling out of his mouth like he was an exhausted golden retriever. His arms were flung wide, and for a second she had the impulse to take advantage of his defenseless pose to-- what? Hit him with something? Jump on him and kiss him? She shook her head, surprised at the ridiculous direction of her thoughts. He had her completely off balance, and she couldn't decide whether or not she liked it.
Alex's eyes opened, and he looked up at her quizzically. “You do that a lot, don't you?”
“Do what?” She asked, confused. As far as Elise knew, she really hadn't been doing anything-- just sitting and watching him.
“Change moods at the drop of a hat-- I swear, you're bipolar. To be honest, it's a little dizzying. I'd say it was a girl thing, but really, most girls aren't even this bad.”
She glared at him like he was crazy. “I don't know what you're talking about,” she sniffed. Elise typically thought of herself as very poised. True, she had shown more emotion around him because he was so freaking determined to keep her off balance. But that wasn't her fault-- he switched moods just as fast as she did. “But you certainly suck at answering questions, so I'd say that makes us even.”
“What question didn't I answer?” He asked, eyes a little too wide.
“Don't play stupid,” she told him, her voice sweet again. “How do you think you should make up for purposely scaring me? It was an idiotic and juvenile thing to do, and I want you to get creative.”
“So I suppose just groveling won't work?” He still looked as innocent as a spring lamb, which left Elise feeling rather annoyed. She leaned forward, invading his space now, and shook her head. “Chocolates and flowers?” He continued. She planted a hand on either side of his chest, trapping him the way he had trapped her.
“You're making up for a death threat, not a broken date,” she growled into his face. And as she said it, the thought occurred to her: what was she even doing here? This boy she was flirting with had threatened her life yesterday, had just threatened her again despite her telling him not to, and here she was rolling around in the grass with him. God, she was sick.
She pushed herself away from him abruptly, standing up and swinging her messenger bag higher onto her shoulder. She needed to just get home and forget this stupid dalliance, before she became one of those broken girls who coped with trauma by recreating it every chance she got.
“Elise, wait,” Alex said, and she heard him stand up behind her. She ignored him and started to walk away.
Then he was there, hurrying into her field of vision and putting a hand on her shoulder to stop her. “Look, I'm sorry, really,” he said contritely, ducking his head to see her face. “You're right-- I like to play games, but I was being stupid. I guess I just figured, negative attention was better than nothing, right? I mean, I saw you in the coffee shop a few days ago, but after the first time our eyes met, you very purposefully ignored me. Even yesterday when you came into the classroom, you barely glanced at me.”
She sighed, looking through the fringe of her hair at him. His eyebrows were drawn together as he frowned, and there was no hint of arrogance or teasing about him now. She stopped leaning away from him, tossing her hair back and giving him her attention.
Alex seemed grateful, straightening up a bit and looking her in the eye. “I'm attracted to you,” he said bluntly. “I didn't want you to ignore me. But you're right, what I said was absurd and I'm an ass.” He kept his hand on her shoulder, and Elise wondered absently if he thought she would try to run away if he let her go. “I'm sorry I scared you, and I'm glad you came out with me today,” he continued. “Can I make this up to you by taking you out tomorrow night?”
Elise raised her eyebrows. “Out where?”
He snorted, then seemed to reign in his humor. “It's Friday, there'll be tons of things going on. I can find something, but I'd love some input from you on what you're into.”
She had to restrain herself from rolling her eyes. “And what if you don't like what I want to do?” She asked him.
Alex shrugged. “So, this is me making up for scaring you. Whatever you want to do.” He grinned suddenly. “Though if you subject me to a boy band concert, I may never forgive you.”
Elise gave him a rather eloquent look. “So much for you coming up with something,” she said, wrinkling her nose at him. He shrugged again.
“Hey, I just met you; I don't know what you like. I could just pick whatever without asking you, but wouldn't that make me a chauvinist pig?”
She cocked her head to the side, pondering for a moment what she would have thought if he had just announced what they would be doing together. It was true, part of her would have been annoyed at the presumption. But another part, that portion of herself that she had suppressed for so long, was more than a little excited by the idea of him taking charge. That part scared her, but all the same, she liked it.
With a smirk, she leaned a little closer to him, sharing the secret. “Maybe, but maybe not.” She was pleased to see his eyes widen a bit in surprise. Straightening, she raised her chin again. “I'll come up with something and let you know tomorrow,” she said decisively.
“Sounds good,” he smiled. “Though, if it'll need a reservation, letting me know sooner would be better than later.”
“A reservation?” She repeated, looking at him like he was from another planet. “We're still in high school. Please. Like we'd be doing anything that formal.”
“Oh, good,” he replied. “Because I haven't unpacked my dinner jacket.”
“You have a dinner jacket?” She was still staring at him like she'd be less surprised if he unpacked a straightjacket.
“Who doesn't?” He asked with a straight face.
2 GETTING TO KNOW YOU
Alexander closed his book and set it resignedly on the plush arm of his leather chair, finally admitting to himself that he'd read the same page four times and still had no idea what it said. No, according to his brain, the only words in the entire book were “Elise Whitfield.” He sighed.
He didn't know what to make of the girl. She had very clearly experienced something traumatic that had left her psychologically broken. Knowing society as he did, he was very sure it would take him only a few guesses to figure out what had happened to her. He felt for her, really he did, but time and experience had left him jaded.
What bothered him about her was that when he managed to distract her from the conditioned responses her trauma had taught her, he saw her real personality flash through. When she laughed-- genuine laughter instead of the forced, fake sound everyone else seemed to believe-- he felt like he was emerging from a dark cave into a sunny day. When she forgot to be meek and mild, she was clever, insightful, assertive-- and incredibly sexy.
There was also the little matter of her remarkable ability to maintain her focus around him-- and his astounding tendency to lose his focus around her. He shook his head, still astounded: when he'd met her eyes in the coffee shop on Monday, it had taken him a full five seconds to remember how to breathe properly. Once she'd made it clear that she was afraid of any further contact with him just then, he'd still nearly walked into a table on his way out the door. With a look, she'd managed to make his head spin, and that just didn't happen.
It was that mystery, more than anything else, that had prompted him to settle himself here and make himself as fascinating to her as she was to him-- the better to keep her nearby until he could solve the puzzle she presented. He didn't like unanswered questions.
Alexander didn't think of himself as a completely bad man. He had been called, on more than one occasion, a manipulative bastard; he had certainly, over the years, done things he wasn't proud of. But he did good things, too, when he could. Helping this lovely girl heal from whatever horror was in her past might be a good way to atone for a few of those misdeeds.
Besides, he thought with amusement, he was actually a little curious to see what she would come up with for tomorrow night.
Friday morning dawned with a slight chill and heavy gray clouds, but Elise didn't mind. She actually loved rain: the smell of it on the wind, the way it muted every color except green, which it amplified into a thousand different shades-- and, of course, the age-old sentiment of washing things away.
She dressed in anticipation of a rainy day-- dark brown skirts, a deep green shirt with three-quarter sleeves, and boots with slightly higher heels than usual, to keep her from dragging her hems in mud and puddles. But her mind was just barely on her daily routine; she zipped her skirts, applied her minimal makeup, and ate a bowl of cereal on autopilot: all she was thinking about was what to do about her date with Alex tonight.
Reflecting during her preparations for the day, she admitted to herself that while she liked him-- a lot-- he also infuriated her. His tendency to make cryptic remarks and to change both subjects and emotions in the blink of an eye left her feeling off balance and unprepared. He could also exert a disconcerting amount of influence over her-- she had realized that all her plans for their interactions went awry if he wanted them to. That scared her more than a little; she didn't trust anyone not to take advantage of a situation where they had control over her, so the fact that she was willing to continue being around him worried her. She wasn't too afraid that he would do more than she actually wanted him to-- on the contrary, she was worried that he would be able to make her want anything he would do. She wasn't sure how he managed it-- maybe it was just the chemistry between them-- but he manipulated her with terrifying ease.
At the same point, though, she couldn't deny that they had fun together. She had caught herself laughing more freely than she had in years because of him, at points when she hadn't felt influenced or manipulated at all. Moreover, there were times when he put the arrogance, the games, aside-- those few times, she had seen a seriousness in him that she had never encountered in anyone else her age. Something about his fervent sincerity made her feel almost safe-- a sensation that, even more than carefree happiness, was all but alien to her now.
As she strolled through the park on her way to school, Elise caught herself glancing over at the tree he had backed her against and the field where he had flopped comically into the grass, as if she expected to see him there. She felt remarkably calm and centered about everything that had gone on yesterday, as if just organizing the pros and cons of their interactions had given her more control over them. And perhaps it had-- Elise didn't feel nearly so shaken now, walking across the damp grass under the heavy gray sky.
A thought came to her, surprising a delighted giggle from her lips. She decided she would chance the rain this afternoon, and see if Alex liked it as much as she did. She'd teach him to put her off balance.
For a moment, Alexander looked between Elise, the vine-laden wrought iron archway, and back again like she was out of her mind. Then, in a dry voice that went perfectly with his raised eyebrows, he simply said, “I hope you brought an umbrella.”
Elise grinned at him. “Where's the fun in that?” She asked in a light tone, her chin tilted up playfully. “Think of it this way-- at least you left that dinner jacket at home!” And with that, she skipped off down the gravel path.
Alexander followed her at a more leisurely pace, content for the moment to allow her to lead him through the foliage. From here, he could watch and appreciate the way her skirts swirled gracefully with the sway of her hips. Her hair blew back when she turned to see if he was still behind her, and he caught himself admiring the beauty in the shape of her face, in her wide smile and twinkling eyes. She looked like she was dancing as she moved through the flowers, bending now and then to smell a rose or brush her fingertips across a leaf. Seeing her like this, at peace and in her element, might be worth braving the oncoming storm.
He was still chuckling at her choice for a date: she had simply given him directions as he drove, so he had been quite surprised to find that their destination was a large botanical garden a few towns away. He supposed he shouldn't have been; he had already noticed how much more comfortable she was when she was surrounded by nature. However, he had thought the weather would have deterred her from outdoor activities. Alexander thought rather ruefully that he ought to have realized by now: Elise wasn't the sort of girl who cared more about her hair and makeup than she did her ability to walk in the rain. He also felt a smirk crawl across his face when he considered the possibility that she had chosen this venue with the rain in mind, knowing that she didn't mind being caught in a storm, but that most people would. This girl was becoming more and more fun by the minute. Still smirking, he broke in to a gentle jog to catch up with her.
Thunder rumbled in the distance as Elise led Alexander further into the gardens. Except for them, the grounds were deserted-- the other patrons had either gone home or taken shelter in the garden's small cafe to wait out the storm. As fat raindrops started to hit the path around them, Elise disappeared around a curve of shrubbery. Following her, Alexander found himself standing before a cozy wooden gazebo that was all but hidden in a grove of weeping willow trees. Elise stood in the doorway, grinning.
“Well, come in before you get wet,” she called.
This was definitely a testament to the changes that could take place over a few hours of conversation, Elise thought as Alex pulled his car up in front of her house. Just two days ago, she had been so frightened of him that she hadn't wanted him to know her name, and now she had no qualms about his knowing exactly where she lived. Though, she reflected, it would be sort of stupid to get squeamish about such a thing now, when she'd been willing to get into his car and spend an entire afternoon alone with him.
“Do I need to park out of your parents' way?” He asked, peering through the pounding rain at the dark house. “Won't they be home soon?”
“Nah,” Elise shrugged. “They go out right after work on Fridays-- they won't be home for hours. So,” she ventured as he put the car in park. “Any big weekend plans?” She tried to keep her tone and expression neutral, but his small smile as he turned toward her let her know she wasn't fooling him.
“Actually, yes,” he said. “Sorry, miss. I have a cousin in New York with a very unfortunately timed birthday-- I won't be back from his party until late Sunday night.”
Elise forced a smile in return. “Ah, well, if you're hung over Monday I reserve the right to laugh at you. Loudly. While I shine bright lights in your eyes.”
Alex laughed. “If I let myself get that drunk, you'll be well within your rights to do so. Though,” he added thoughtfully. “I can't promise I'll be so charitable at the time.”
“Oh?” She asked, curious and a little cautious. “Are you an angry drunk? Or at least, angry the day after?”
“Oh no,” he said with a chuckle. “I melt. If-- and by eighth period, that's a big if-- I'm still hung over when you see me, most likely I'll collapse on my desk and drool all over it for a while.”
Elise gave a genuine laugh at the picture he painted. Somehow, it was difficult to imagine this elegant, poised young man drooling on a desk.
“Well, if that happens, I'll be sure to take a picture,” she said, still smiling a little.
“I don't have any plans for next weekend,” he volunteered. “Why don't I pick you up on Saturday?”
“That's definitely doable,” she replied. “Dare I ask what we're doing?”
“Oh, no, I'll keep that a surprise. But make no mistake: it's my turn to pick.” His eyes twinkled with mischief, and Elise swallowed down a sudden nervous fluttering in her stomach.
“Oh, goodness,” was all she said as she grabbed her bag. Then she paused, her hand on the door handle, and looked up into his eyes. “Thank you for today, Alex. It was really nice.”
He met her gaze seriously. “It was,” he said with sincerity. “I'll see you Monday, Elise.”
She blushed at the warmth in his tone, and without looking back, hopped out of the car and ran through the sheets of rain to her front porch. She had closed the door behind her before he pulled away.
“Morning, honey!” Marie said brightly and with a touch of surprise as Elise came into the kitchen at seven o' clock on Monday. Elise had, without too much embarrassment, laid out her clothes the night before, and as a result was running early. Robert glanced up from his paper, unused to seeing his daughter before he left for work, and nodded to her. Elise saw that he was only a quarter of the way into his mug of coffee, and didn't begrudge him the lackluster greeting. She poured herself a bowl of cereal and plopped onto a stool at the bar, immediately regretting not grabbing her book from her backpack first but deciding she'd rather eat the cereal while it was still crunchy than bother going to get it now. Her parents were talking to each other, but she barely paid any attention, musing instead over the plot twists of the new book she had almost finished over the weekend.
“And the Dow is down again,” her father was saying from behind his newspaper. Her mother, sipping coffee while she packed her lunch, nodded. “I was hoping for an upturn over the weekend, to give our customers a little more incentive to invest. I think I'll set a conference call this afternoon, to tell the branch managers they'll have to push a little harder.” The Inquirer rustled as he turned a page, and Elise vaguely heard him “hmph” in disgust. “There was a riot in some nightclub in New York over the weekend, apparently.”
“Was there really?” Marie actually turned to look at him. “So close to home? That's terrible. People weren't hurt, were they?”
Robert glanced at his wife's nervous face and interpreted her concern. “You have to expect these things in the city, dear. But these sorts of crime waves never spread to the suburbs-- people go to those stupid clubs to act up, but they burn themselves out. We're two hours from New York-- if not for the news, we'd never even know things like that went on.”
Elise glanced over at her father, her stomach twisting as she hoped he would give more details, but unwilling to ask and have to fabricate an excuse for her sudden interest. She bit her lip, worried that Alex had been hurt in the riot-- after all, he'd said he'd be in New York all weekend. But that was silly, she told herself. There had to be hundreds of clubs in the city; the odds of him being at that particular one were extremely low. Still, she couldn't shake the feeling of nervousness that overtook her, but to her disappointment her father didn't say anything else on the subject. She ate faster, eager to get to school despite the fact that she already knew she wouldn't see Alex until last period. She hoped she might at least get some clue that he was all right. Contrary to most of her peers, Elise didn't harbor any illusions that tragedy only happened on TV.