Kelsey Blankenship, Sydney McGlynn... your girlfriend wants you select a color. That color corresponds with somebody that your girlfriend will then use to date you. Because she wants to be with Will Prescott but Will can't be with Sydney McGlynn and he certainly can't be with Kelsey Blankenship so it will be someone else entirely. Oh sure, inside it'll still be the girl who you've found yourself falling for, the headstrong beauty fascinated by the occult and, somehow, fascinated by you. But the face and the appearance will belong to someone else. Someone who is likely much more fitting.
Who would that be? Well, you've got some guesses. Jenny Ashton or any of the other names that you'd presented to her. Maybe it's Cassie Harper, the exhausting chatterbox who you share a few classes with. She'd be a safe bet as would a few other girls you share classes with. There's a part of you that hopes, just a bit, that she's chosen somebody like Mia DeWitt, the spitfire bohemian who sits next to you in second period.
But you have to pick a color first. Each one connected to a name and you have no idea who. Maybe you'll get lucky or maybe Sydney will mess with you and suddenly you're dating one of the rougher looking girls from the basketball team or something.
Pretty fucking complicated, is what you half want to write back but of course that'd be dumb. Anyway, you're probably overthinking things and your thumb is already over the "P" on the keypad so whatever, screw it.
purple, you send.
Oooh, that's a good choice! ;)
That intrigues you but again, maybe she's just messing with you too. who is it? you ask.
You'll see.
is it someone you can get tonight?
Maybe maybe not, comes the reply.
We'll talk about it tomorrow. Meet me for lunch?
sure. where?
Milagro? Kelsey goes there a lot.
You agree to it, if only for the chance to see Sydney, and the two of you decide to meet around one o'clock since "that'll be just after the lunch rush" your girlfriend says. The conversation ends and you're left with the rest of the night ahead of you to fantasize, wonder, and guess about just who she's picked out to be Will Prescott's girlfriend. And of course, you can't shake the feeling that she's messing with you but she told you earlier to trust her and so far she hasn't given you a reason not to.
* * * * *
Milagro Beanfield Warehouse is a small downtown cafe that sits close to Keyserling University. You've never been as it has something of a reputation. Not a bad one, no, but a good one. Good for a certain clientele, at least. You enter the cafe and are immediately struck by the decor, both modern and with a South American bent. The people inside wear nice clothes, or the type of odd-yet-fashionable ensembles that easily tell you who they are.
Musicians, artists, poets, and activists. If you're young and hip and perhaps a little well-to-do then this is the place you come to for lunch or brunch or to sip coffee while talking about some obscure band or the ills of the world. It's the kind of place that you can definitely see someone like Kelsey popping into but you? Dressed sloppily in cargo shorts, a t-shirt, and a ratty baseball cap sitting on top of messy hair?
You're very aware that you don't fit here at all and it's making you self-conscious. The barista who takes your order is a pretty young woman with striking lavender hair and you think you catch her smirk at you a bit as you nervously place an order for "regular coffee." As you sit and wait you just know that people there are eyeing you, wondering who this dweeb is and why he's here. You can feel their eyes on you as your name is called and you go back up to grab your coffee and sit back down.
And after all this time, Kelsey has yet to show up. It's quarter past one now and she's nowhere to be seen and you're completely out of place and everybody in here knows it. Then, as if to confirm your worst nightmare, a voice suddenly cuts into your thoughts.
"You look like you don't belong here," comes a silky smooth voice.
You look to see who's talking to you and almost do a double take. It's a girl, maybe around your age, standing on the opposite side of the table. She's willowy with skin that's not quite porcelain but neither is it peaches and cream. Her straight, chocolate colored hair, runs down to her shoulder blades and offsets the skin. Skin that you can see a lot of as her shirt, tight and short, shows off much of her midriff and visible abs. Whoever she is, she certainly keeps herself in shape.
"Do you mind if I sit here?" she asks. She stares at you with large, dark doe eyes that seem to convey a number of thoughts at once. She's looking at you with amused judgment. Shes expectantly waiting for an answer. She probably won't accept "no," either.
"Uh, sure," you answer nervously. "I was probably about to go myself so feel free."
"Why?" the girl bluntly asks as she takes a seat.
"Um, because someone asked me to meet them here but it looks like they're not showing up," you answer. "And, y'know, like you said I don't really belong here."
"And that's reason enough to leave?" she asks skeptically. "There's no rule that says you can't be here."
"No, I know, but, uh, look at me! You can tell I'm out of place!" you protest.
But she simply gives you a terse smile. "Yes, and that's how I noticed you," you states. "Looking like that in a place like this causes you to stand out. It makes you unique. It makes you interesting."
"Interesting, sure," you say nervously. "But still, I really was supposed to meet someone and it doesn't look like she's showing up so..."
"She?" the girl replies curiously. "A date?"
"A da—!?" you begin to exclaim. "Uh, no probably not. She's, um, the type of girl who wouldn't be caught dead with me."
"Why not?"
"Why not? Do you know Kelsey Blankenship!?" you blurt out.
"We share a class."
You blink at that. "Wait, so you go to Westside?" you ask dumbfounded.
"Mhm."
"Well it's, uh, weird that I don't know you considering that you're... um," you sputter. "Well, I don't know a lot of people I guess. Well, I do but, uh... shit. I'm Will. Will Prescott."
"Angelique Cartier," the girl says as she extends a hand and her smile seems to warm a bit. "And you certainly seem interesting."
* * * * *
When this gorgeous girl extended her hand inviting you to grab it, you decided that you couldn't leave. She clearly wanted you to keep her company and you found it very hard to turn down a girl as gorgeous as this. You wonder again why, if she goes to Westside, you've never seen her since she, well, stands out. She's gracious enough to clarify a bit.
"I'm from D.C. originally, Bethesda to be specific," Angelique explains. "I only moved here a few months ago after my dad accepted a job out here on the recommendation of a friend of his."
"Where at?" you ask.
"Some contractor called Proteus," she answers. "My dad's friend is the Representative for this place and I guess pulled some strings with them to set my dad up with a VP job there when he decided to leave the DoD." She lets loose a small laugh. "Quite a thing to have sprung on you when you come back from Germany, no?"
It hits you that this Angelique girl is operating in a totally different world from you. "Wait why go to friggin' Westside then instead of, I don't know, St. Xavier?" you ask.
She dismissively rolls her eyes "Private school kids like that are fake and boring," she answers. "They always attempt to act like they're so smart and cultured. But try asking them to come out to a production of Othello or La Bayadere and you get blank stares," she complains.
"Oh, uh, sure, I totally get it," you reply.
"You don't but that's fine. Everyone is wearing masks and playing roles but those types take it to a completely different level." She looks at you and then gives another terse smile. "You, though, seem interesting. You're too open to hide anything even if you wanted to."
"Yeah?" you respond dumbfounded.
"Mhm, that's part of what made you so attractive to me, Will. You're earnest and easy to read." Something in Angelique's expression changes. A devlishness that begins to seem familiar. "And you really like books."
"Sydney?" you ask as realization hits you.
With that Angelique's demeanor changes completely, losing the gracefulness and elegance that she seemed to be radiating. "I had to drop a few hints, I guess," she snickers.
"How did you get, uh, whoever? I've never even seen her before."
"Well she's new, like me," she says as she leans forward with a smirk. "Plus she's a junior."
"You decided the best girl for me is a junior!?"
"Is that a problem?" she asks as you begin to feel toes and a foot spider up your leg. "Rich, beautiful, popular, desired by everyone but oh no, she's a year younger than you. Is that really a dealbreaker."
"N-no!" you exclaim. "But, uh that other stuff you said... that's why I couldn't date 'Sydney' in the first place!"
"Yeah, I know, so I'm giving you another chance," she tells you. "We're going to try again with a girl that Kelsey finally managed to get to come out to her house last night and finally managed to convince to come out to one of her gatherings tonight."
"A gathering at Kelsey's?"
"You were Amanda, you should know about them. "Kelsey's been trying since the start of the year to get me out there and I've finally agreed to go." She then leans forward and clasps her hands around one of your own. "And I'd love to show off my new boyfriend to that arrogant bitch and her friends. What do you say?"   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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