6:59 (20 page)
Authors: Nonye Acholonu,Kelechi Acholonu
Cameron
Armando shut my locker door before I was even finished collecting my books. “What's up with you and Anjolie?” he asked, cutting to the chase. His no-nonsense amber eyes peered into mine, making me feel the need to step back a little.
“What are you talking about?” I asked, playing innocent. Really, there wasn't anything going on between the two of us. She was my friend; that was all there was to it.
I shoved my locker door back open, grabbing for the rest of my books before he shut the door again. Armando crossed his arms over his broad chest, the look of suspicion still apparent on his dark, tan face. “I'm talking about how Anjolie is suddenly in your life now-a-days, cooking you dinner, hitching rides with you, hanging out at your house,” Armando rose his palms up toward the ceiling, and shrugged. “What's up with that?”
I had to scoff at his inquiries. He was blowing everything out of proportion. “Anjolie and I are just friends,” I said, grinning at the heinousness of all of this, “She's pretty cool, really.” I closed my locker door and began making my way down the hall. “Why does this matter to you anyways?” I asked, switching it all onto him. I hated twenty questions and he should've known that.
Armando followed after me, his long legs keeping pace with mine. “It matters because I think you're forgetting about Olive,” he responded.
I had to stop walking at that. How could he say I was forgetting about Olive? She was all I could ever think about. She was literally my everything.
I told all of this to Armando, leaving out no details.
Armando just swiped my words away, rolling his eyes with annoyance. “Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he said, grabbing my arm and leading me down the hallway. “I know how much you love her and all, but⦔ we came up to another hallway and spotted Olive at her locker. “â¦
she
doesn't know that, okay?” Armando finished, shoving me toward her direction. “Enlighten her, please,” was the last thing he said before taking off in the opposite direction, probably in search of Hudson or whatever.
I sighed and headed over to Olive, my bag slung over my shoulder. I stopped once I reached her locker, giving her my best smile. “Hi, Olive,” I said, feeling incredibly happy to see her. She looked really pretty today, dressed in dark jeans and a yellow blouse. On second thought, she looked pretty every day.
Olive looked at me, not returning my smile. “So
that's
why you leave so early in the morning?” she asked, her eyes narrowing with disgust. “So you could pick up pretty little Anjolie and take her on a joy-ride over to the school all hunky-dory and such?” She slammed her locker shut and folded her arms across her chest. “Is that it, Cameron? Huh?”
I was completely shocked. Why was everyone taking this whole Anjolie thing out of proportion? I was giving her a ride like a Good Samaritan. That's all! “Olive, it's not what you think, really,” I said, but immediately regretted it. That “it's not what you think” phrase had to be the guiltiest response anyone could ever begin with.
I was definitely not making my case here, and Olive knew it. “Oh, whatever, Cameron,” she snapped, trudging down the hallway.
I followed her, trying to manage the hard tasks of talking, walking, and gesturing all at the same time. “Really, Olive,” I cried, “Anjolie doesn't have a ride to school. She has to walk every morning, and I feel bad for her. I really do. I just offered to take her to and from school occasionally so that she doesn't have to walk all the time. There's nothing more to it. You have to understand!”
Olive spun around quickly, which caused me to run into her at full force. We were on the ground in seconds, groaning in pain as we rubbed our bruises. I mentally added that event to my long list of embarrassing moments.
I was about to start apologizing nonstop, but decided against it when Olive burst out laughing, clutching her stomach in amusement. It wasn't long before I joined in, laughing at how clumsy we were and always will be. “Wow, Cameron,” Olive said between gasps of laughter, “when will our clumsiness ever end?” Her dark brown hair fell in her face as she scrambled to grab her books.
I continued laughing as I helped retrieve her items. “It won't, Olive,” I responded, helping her to her feet. “This clumsiness is here to stay.” I brushed a lock of hair from her face and tucked it behind her ears. Looking into her eyes, I could tell that her anger was gone, replaced with the shining glint of amusement. Olive sighed then, turning on her heels and walking in the direction to which she was previously headed. I followed, grabbing her books and holding them for her. “I understand, Cameron,” she said, after a brief moment of silence. “I was just blowing everything out of proportion like I always do. Please don't mind me.” Her tan cheeks flushed in color, and she lifted her hands up to cover them.
I just smiled and grabbed one of her hands, kissing them softly. “I don't mind, Olive. You always blow everything out of proportion,” I teased.
She smiled and thwapped me with her hand. “Hey, I'm apologizing here,” she retorted, but she immediately grabbed my hand in hers once again.
When we reached her classroom, I handed back her books. “Hey, could we try not to fight again?” I asked, shoving my hands into my pockets.
Olive smiled mischievously and lightly shoved me in the shoulder. “Why, 'cause you're not good at it?” she asked playfully.
I smiled, blushing. “Uh, yes, I'm not good at it!” I exclaimed between grinning teeth. “You saw me back there, blubbering and all that embarrassing stuff. Fighting's hard!” This made Olive laugh even harder, probably because she knew just how right I was.
It was a while until she caught her breath. “Okay, okay, Cameron, if that's what you want then we won't fight again,” she said, smiling as she went to kiss me. I kissed her back, showing exactly how much she meant to me.
And judging by that kiss, she meant a
whole
lot to me.
****
“So how did you become the boss, anyway?” I asked as I drove toward Anjolie's home. I'd been itching to ask her this ever since I found out. Being the boss of anything, let alone the Gray Eyes, had to be a big deal.
Anjolie shuffled in the passenger seat, bringing her knees up to her chest and turning to face me. “I don't know, it just happened,” she said nonchalantly. Her silvery blond locks shimmered in the afternoon sun. I couldn't help but stare at it. “I was born a Gray Eyes like everybody else, and then when I turned fourteen, the king dubbed me boss of this division,” she further explained. “It's not like being the boss ran in my generations or anything. I was just chosen.” She finished with a light shrug.
I nodded in understanding. “Do you like being the boss?” I asked, turning the wheel as I rounded a corner.
Anjolie answered with a shrug. “It's alright, sometimes,” she confessed, tearing at a rip in her white jeans. “I get a lot of freedom occasionally, you know, to do what I want.” She began examining her fingernails, suddenly fascinated with them. “It only stinks when someone doesn't do his job and I have to do it for him. That's pretty much what the boss does; covers for her fellow Gray Eyes in order to insure that the king gets his offerings.” She paused to massage her neck. “The missions suck, though. I'm always left, fending for my life in these crazy suicidal adventures I have to go on.”
“Suicidal?” I interjected, surprised that little Anjolie actually participated in lethal missions. “What do you mean by that?”
She let out a little chuckle. “I'm talking guns here and there, bullets everywhere,” she responded, her lips forming a smile of amusement. “I don't blame them, though. People don't like it when their stuff gets stolen.”
I shivered, confused by her amusement. How could suicidal missions be laughable to her? She must be one tough chick.
I squirmed in my seat, uncomfortable at how nonchalant she was about this all. “Well, why do you guys have to steal stuff?” I asked like a little goody-two-shoes loser. “Couldn't you guys just work for your offerings?”
She snorted at my suggestion. “Yeah right, Cameron,” she answered, staring straight ahead. “Not all of us Gray Eyes have expensive cars, pools of diamonds, or boat-loads of cash lying around our houses â and even if we did, why would we give them up?” She peered at me. “Besides, we have to take care of ourselves too. We get jobs and work just as much as the next guy so we could pay our taxes and bills. The money we earn at our jobs is solely for us; we steal the other stuff not because we want to, but because we have to.” Her face was serious now. “We have no other choice.”
I took in all what she was saying, my heart exploding with sympathy â even more sympathy than I already had for her. Now, not only was she dirt poor and had to walk to school everyday, but she was also a thief. “I'm sorry, Anjolie,” I said, not knowing what else to say. “Your life must really stink.” I drove into her development, slowing down when I saw how many little children were out playing games and stuff along the streets. The roads were drastically thinner, the driveways shorter, the houses smaller. It was like turning into a whole new world.
Anjolie just waved away my apologies. “Oh, don't worry about it,” she said, dismissively. “I'm still alive, that's all that matters.” She smiled at me, failing to assuage my guilt. “Besides, Hudson's life must suck even more.”
I widened my eyes. “Huh? How could Hudson's life suck?” I asked incredulously. As far as I could tell, Hudson was nothing short of a celebrity by the way she was living. She had more money than probably eighty percent of the world.
Anjolie smiled and drummed her fingers on the dashboard. “Her dad's the king,” she clarified, “And he won't be for long. Pretty soon, his daughter's going to have to take the throne and rule the Gray Eyes, her mind and any past memories of her life wiped out completely so that she can rule with an unbiased attitude.” Anjolie scoffed. “Now that's gotta suck.”
“Wow,” was all I could say to that. I was still confused about everything else; it was all so hard to swallow. Anjolie's some boss, Hudson's a soon to be queen, and I'm sharing a body with a Gray Eyes â how else could my life get any more complicated?
I soon found Anjolie's small white house and drove up to her driveway. She grabbed her backpack and slung it over her shoulder. “Anyways, thanks for the ride, Sloane,” she said, opening up her door and stepping out. “I'll see you tomorrow.”
I opened up my door and stepped out as well.
She froze, peering at me over the hood of the car. “What are you doing?” she asked, a glint of fear bolting through her silvery eyes.
I stared at her suspiciously. “I'm walking you to your doorâ¦?” I said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Chivalry may be dead, but walking a girl to her door wasn't an antiquated gesture.
So why was she staring at me like that?
“Uh⦠you don't have to. Really,” she said quickly, stepping back into the lawn. Her eyes darted from side to side nervously.
“Why? What's up?” I asked, suddenly feeling nervous.
Clearly
she didn't want me there and I couldn't take a hint. Why did crap like this always happen to me? I began backing away from her, embarrassed out of my mind. “Um, you know what? I'll just⦠I'm just gonnaâ” I said, reaching for my door handle.
Anjolie nodded and opened her mouth to say something but was interrupted by the front door opening. A woman with long, choppy, black hair, a tight black tank top, and dark jeans emerged from the house. “Anjie's that you?” she asked, stepping onto the front steps.
Anjolie
I jumped a mile into the air. “
Ma
?” I asked, my eyes shooting wide open. What was she doing here? Wasn't she supposed to be at work?
Ma snorted and walked down the steps. “Oh, honey, don't be so surprised,” she said, chewing her gum like it was the last piece on the planet. “You know I don't work Fridays.” She grinned, her eyes moving up and landing on Cameron. “Who're you?” she asked.
Crapcrapcrapcrapcrap. My life was ruined.
Cameron stepped away from his car door, terminating his plans on leaving. “Um, hi, I'm Cameron,” he said, walking up to her briskly. He held out a hand.
Ma looked at it for a long time before breaking out into a wider smile. “Around here we
hug
,” she said, pulling Cameron into a hug. I watched as they embraced, feeling uncomfortable about being the awkward bystander.
Cameron never hugged
me
.
I quickly shook out that afterthought, disgusted with my sudden pang of jealousy. I did not get jealous. I was better than that.
Soon the two of them pulled away, smiling graciously at each other. I rolled my eyes with embarrassment. Ma then pinched Cameron's cheek and wiggled the skin around between her fingers. “You are just too cute,” she said all mushily. Cameron laughed and uttered a
thanks
. “You want some coffee?” she asked him.
“
Ma
,” I snapped, and when she met my eyes, I silently indicated to her that Cameron and I had better things to do. But when Ma just shrugged away my silent plea, I had no choice but to speak up. “
Ma
, Cameron was just leaving,” I said, suddenly feeling like the bad guy.
Before Ma could interject, Cameron responded with a shrug, waving a dismissive hand in my direction. “No, really, I have nothing better to do with my day,” he said, smiling that gracious smile of his. “I'd love some coffee.”
It was silent as they both stared at me, contemplating my next move. I looked at Ma, who was shooting me a challenging grin, trying to see if I'd budge at the notion of bringing a hot blond into my house for the first time ever. And then
Cameron
was looking at me with nothing but utter compliance; it was almost as if he really,
really
wanted to get his coffee.
