Earth (9 page)

As I predicted, the rain came steady and cold
half way through French, pelting the windows in a staccato,
distracting everyone for a few moments, only to annoy Madame
Beaumont into giving us a pop quiz as punishment. And in each class
we shared, I couldn't help but glance every once in a while in
Jensen's direction and, as if by some magnetic pull, he always
seemed to look right at me just a half second later and catch me
looking.

Now all I could think about was that he
must've thought I had been looking for a long time when he'd catch
me. He didn't seem to care when I caught him. I had the
sinking suspicion that maybe whatever about me that had enticed him
now scared him. I knew by History I was upsetting the stomachs of
half my class, but I just didn't care. I needed to get out and
distract myself to calm down.

I knew going home would do me no good. My
mother would be there with the possibility of more expected
conversations and I had my fill of talking to people. I drove
without really knowing where I was going, mostly just going through
the motions, and eventually found myself, unsurprisingly, at the
bookstore. I loved this place. It had huge with a coffee shop on
the first floor full of my people, coffee drinkers and readers. I
hurried inside, ducking my head against the rain and dodging the
puddles. Inside I took a deep breath, enjoying the combination of
smells of fresh brewed coffee and paper.

I made my way over to the wall of journals
and diaries first. I had reached the last page of my journal last
night with an unusually long poem in another bout of sleepless
hours. I took my time browsing through the different covers before
examining a couple, lined pages or blank, off white or white,
leather or linen. Eventually I decided on a beautiful green leather
bound journal with an interesting Celtic knot-work design embossed
on the cover.

I went upstairs, past the Non-Fiction/Fantasy
section, and went straight to the New Age/Occult shelves. At times
like these it was nice to be a teenager; most people just shook
their heads when they saw someone my age in this section, thinking
we were just trying to be different. I pulled a few different books
on herb lore, Celtic deities, and potion making before going back
downstairs, getting a coffee, and settling into a table tucked into
a far corner. No one really cares what anyone else is reading,
but I didn't want to invite any questioning looks or whispers I was
sure to feel.

I pulled out my old journal and set it next
to my new one, intending to copy down a blessing I had inscribed on
the inside cover in my new journal when the chair across from me
slid out and Jensen sat down, leaning back and crossing his right
ankle over his left knee. I knew it was him without having to
look.

Everyone gives off emotion, even if it’s just
a sense of existing. Everyone except Jensen. One of the things that
had been bothering me about him was that I couldn't read him, no
matter how hard I tried. It was like he knew what I did and was
blocking me from being able to do so. It was a void in the back of
my mind, like walking into a room but forgetting why I'd gone in
there. So I knew he had shields around him that were so strong I
was surprised he had any energy left over to so much as walk
around.

I sat there, pen poised over the blank page,
my left hand on top of my old journal, not yet having opened it,
Thank God,
and tried not to look at him. He sniffed
quietly, waiting politely for me to acknowledge him. I steeled
myself, chewing the inside of my cheek self-consciously, and
finally looked up at him. I had never seen him this close up
before. From a distance I had already noticed the piecing blue of
his eyes, but here, feet apart, with the perfect creamy complexion
of his skin, offset by the dark, chestnut hair, they took on a blue
that I had never seen before. They were slightly gray near the
pupils and gradually became darker until they were the perfect
shade of sapphire. I had a moment to think of the fairytales from
my childhood as I sank into the unusual color of his eyes before he
spoke.

"Hello," he said casually and I realized,
with a start, that I hadn't yet heard the sound of his voice and I
knew right then in that simple word that I'd always know it.

"Hello." I was grateful to hear how steady my
voice was, almost aloof even. He had an annoying half grin on his
face and that damn eyebrow was raised, shattering the trance I
nearly fell into. That was enough to give me some of my nerve back.
I was tired of being stared at by this guy like an exhibit at the
zoo.

He continued to stare evenly at me, keeping
the half grin hitched on his face, breathing calmly, apparently
waiting for me to continue the conversation. I was not going to
give him the satisfaction. I knew it had only been a few brief
moments but in any good stare down those few moments stretch into
sudden infinity. I was not going to break the silence. I was happy
to watch his face gradually fall and lose his confidence.

Finally he shifted in his seat, uncrossing
his legs, and leaned over the table, picking up one of my books at
random and examining the cover. I was overwhelmingly aware of the
sound of my breath inside my head, like a growing wave waiting for
the inevitable crash. "Hmmm," he muttered, both eyebrows raised,
and he nodded slightly. "Interesting reading," he said, almost a
question.

"Ok," If he could be brief, so could I.

"You’re reading about Celtic deities? I
thought we were studying US History this term?” He flipped the book
open and shuffled through some pages. He didn’t really expect me to
respond, so I didn’t.

“Ah, Morrigan, now you remind me a little of
her,” he said, looking up at me with a smile. I blinked stupidly at
him. Morrigan was one of my favorite Celtic deities but I had never
been compared to her. “You know, the three faces?” he pressed.

“Ok,” I said again. I just couldn’t help
myself. Morrigan was believed to be The Crone, The Mother, and The
Maiden – the three stages of a woman’s life. So of course any woman
could be her; she was all of us all at once.

“Are you Celtic?” he asked and for the first
time I heard a hint of uncertainty in his voice. I furrowed my brow
and decided to try and read him again, but as I reached out towards
him the void in the back of my mind came back tenfold and the edges
of my vision went blurry. Jensen took in a sharp breath and sat
back for a moment, only relaxing again when I pulled my energy
back. Yeah, he
so
knew what I was doing.

He pursed his lips at me, considering my
silence and nodded at something he seemed to be thinking about. I
expected him to say something about what had just passed between
us, but, amazingly, he just reached out for the herb lore book. I
had the urge to slide the potion-making book under my new journal,
but I knew there was no point in hiding it. He had obviously
already seen all three and was probably building up to that
book.

"Herb lore?” He let his voice trail off,
opening the book and flipping through a few pages, pausing a couple
of times to read a passage.

“Now this definitely isn’t for History. Maybe
Home Ec?” He was teasing me; there was even a glint in his eye!

“Home Ec, sure,” I agreed.

“You know, I wouldn’t tell anyone if you want
to be straight with me,” he said in a low voice, forgetting the
book as he leaned towards me.

What did he expect me to say? Oh yes, Jensen,
I spend my Friday nights brewing potions over a cauldron and my
Saturday nights calling the corners with my two best friends so we
can cast magic spells. Oh I have the ability to make earthquakes
happen. How do you spend your weekends?

“Ok, fine,” he said, sitting back in his
chair and forgetting the third book on the table. “I just saw you
sitting here by yourself and thought I’d join you. Introduce
myself.” He paused, gathering himself he said, “I don’t think you
like me much.”

"What do you care what I think of you? We
don't even know each other,” I finally said.

"That's a very good point and an even better
question." He tilted his head, glancing around the store. That lock
of hair I had admired in math class came loose again and fell over
his forehead, nearly brushing his eyelashes. I realized I was
staring. Gathering myself, I grabbed the books and stacked them on
top of each other, being sure to place the new journal on top, and
slid my old journal back into my purse.

"Well, do you have a good answer for it
then?" I was in better control of myself now, having gotten past
the most uncomfortable portion of the meeting – him seeing the
books I was reading.

"You know, I don't think I do. Funny isn't
it?"

"What's funny?"

"It seemed so important that we meet and that
you have a better impression of me and I don't know why." He
sounded like this was a very interesting science project he was
studying. I felt my eyebrows contract and I shook my head. I was
caught in some stupid mind game, just like the staring at the
school. He didn’t have a crush on me, as I had secretly hoped. He
had abilities and could tell I did too and was probably testing me.
I felt my temper rising at my stupidity. And since I didn’t
recognize his, I knew there would be nothing lost staying away from
him.

"Well, if that's all, then I think
mission
accomplished
," I stood up, forgetting my now cold coffee and
started reaching for my books when he put a hand on top of them,
stopping me from picking them up. "What?" I demanded, loud enough
to cause some of the nearby people to look over at me.

"How is it accomplished?"

"I have a much better impression of you now."
Not that it was a better impression as in good; it was just more
defined now.

"Somehow that doesn't sound flattering." He
was inside my head. Instinctively I drew my shields in tighter
around me and they practically vibrated with the extra energy
pulsing into them. As if he could see an actual change in my
appearance, he tilted his head to the side and squinted, looking at
me but not seeming to see me. That was enough for me. I pushed his
hand off of my books and clutched them to my chest.

"Take it any way you want, doesn't make any
difference to me." I turned to leave and I saw his hand reaching
out to stop me. "Any part of you that touches me, you won’t be
getting back." His hand dropped back to the table and he let me
pass. I walked directly to the serpentine checkout line and grabbed
a new bookmark without really looking at it, even though I probably
had a hundred of them at home.

I got through the checkout process relatively
quickly and rushed out the door. My sanctuary was befouled and I
was in no mood to dawdle, but as I pushed the door open to the
foyer I saw just beyond the outer door there stood Jensen. He was
waiting causally with his hands shoved in the pockets of his
jacket.
Damnit.
I was being tormented like a five-year-old
in kindergarten.

I took a steadying breath and pushed the door
open to a gush of cold evening air that swirled around me, lifting
my hair up and away from my face and shoulders. Surprisingly
enough, Jensen didn't turn to face me, so I walked deliberately
past him and into the parking lot, keys already in hand.

"Hey, that’s not how I hoped that would go."
He was next to me faster than I expected. All of my internal alarms
sounding in my head almost deafened me.

"Ok," I said, no inflection in my voice, not
wanting to invite any more conversation.

"So I'd like to rectify that."

"Well, we don't always get what we want," I
said as I realized, a few feet away from my car, that I was leading
him straight to it. If he was as creepy as he was coming across,
he'd have the perfect opportunity to ambush me and speed away
with me and my car. I stopped suddenly, rounding on him. He was
quicker than most guys, he didn't stumble or skid to a halt; he
merely finished his last step and turned on the spot to look at
me.

"So let’s just come to an understanding that
you wanted to meet me, didn't know how to go about it in any other
way than
creepy
and things didn't go so well. Too bad.
Let’s get on with our lives." I waved my hand dismissively, making
my keys jingle.

"You don't want me near your car." It wasn't
a question.

"I don't normally like strange guys to follow
me to my car in a dark parking lot when no one’s around. So, if you
don't mind, I have a feeling you're not parked anywhere around here
and the store is back that way." I motioned over my shoulder in the
direction of the bookstore, but he didn't move to leave.

"I wouldn't do anything to you."

"Ok."

"You say that a lot."

"Ok." He actually laughed. It was warm and
full of emotion and his eyes glittered in the wet air. I clenched
my fists, forcing myself to keep my mouth shut. I had gained some
ground and didn’t want to lose it.

"Ok." He nodded, again seeming like he had
decided on something in his mind. "Ok, for now. I'll let you get
into your car with piece of mind, but I will make a better
impression.”

Before I could argue with him he walked past
me back to the bookstore. I didn't want to look over my shoulder
and watch him go. I didn't want him to catch me looking again so I
stood there, counting to thirty before I walked to my car. My hair
was weighted down with the slow steady rain and I threw my bags
inside. As I rounded in front of the store on my way out of the
parking lot, I was sure I caught the blurred outline of a tall,
lean man with dark hair watching me drive away.

"Tuesdays aren't supposed to be so crappy!" I
complained on the phone to Jodi, lying on my bed, covers over my
head. I still believed in the magical protection of covers; so long
as you don't come out, the monster can’t get you.