Landlocked (A water witch novel) (4 page)

“We’ll be back soon.” I looped my arm in Clarissa’s and began to walk away.

“Nothing deep fried. Organic if possible!” she called out to us.

“Organic fair food? Does that even exist?” Clarissa asked when we were out of hearing distance.

I grinned. “Well, since this is an art fair, the vendors are usually a little more refined than what you’d find at a carnival. I bet they have lots of organic choices, there’s probably even a vegan food truck around here somewhere.”

“Gross! So, do I look for pretentious people… or should I just sniff out the ones not wearing deodorant and follow them to find Sylvia’s dinner?”

“Did you ever think that it’s not just pretentious hippies eating organic, and maybe it’s just a healthy choice for any person to make?”

“Nope, the thought never crossed my mind.
I plan on finding the most deep-fried, heart-clogging…”

I stopped in my tracks, we had walked past dozens of booths and not
hing had caught my eye until then. There was only one piece on display, though the artist wasn’t anywhere to be seen. A large metal sculpture sat in the middle of the booth. It was the likeness of a slender woman with her back to us. Her long hair blew about as if by the wind. How the sculptor had made her hair look so light and airy given the material was amazing. I stepped into the booth wanting to see the front of the mesmerizing woman. As I walked around the piece, I was shocked that the statue remained the same even as I looked at it from different angles. Somehow it had been magically sculpted to look like the back of a windswept woman from all three hundred and sixty degrees.

“Pretty cool.” Clarissa’s voice pulled me out of the spell I was under.

“Understatement,” I muttered. I couldn’t tear my eyes off of the eerie figure.

“Come on, I’m starving!” Clarissa tugged on my arm.

“All right.” I left the tent, hoping to be able to meet the artist responsible before the night was over. I’d never seen anything quite like it.

When we reached the first food truck, I was hit by the strong sent of fried dough that brought happy memories of past fairs and carnivals with it.

Clarissa clapped her hands and rubbed them together. “Where to start?”

“I don’t know.” I scanned the place.

“Are you going to eat real food or that bird food Sylvia wants?”

“Do you really need to ask?”

She laughed. “Fine, I’ll meet you back at the tent. This may take awhile.” She walked to the nearest food stand and stood in line. How she stayed so thin eating nothing but junk was a mystery.

On my way back with our organic gyros, I spotted Brad laughing it up with one of his friends and decided that walking through the crowd balancing two food baskets was annoying enough without being hit on. So I slipped into the back alley that ran behind the booths. The canvas walls made me feel like a horse with blinders on but at least no one was back here.

“Maribel!”

I rolled my eyes at the familiar voice and turned around to see Brad and hi
s friend Levi sauntering toward me. “What’s up, Brad?”

“Besides my heart rate every time I look at you?”

I groaned. “Yes, besides that.”

He grinned. “You’re a tough cookie to crack. I’ll give you that.”

“And I’ll take it… I’ve got to get to back to my booth. See ya.” As soon as I turned his hand was on my elbow.

“You don’t have to go so soon, do you?” he whispered.

I stared at where his hand rested, confused and angry that he was touching me. Balancing my food, I tried to pull my elbow out of his grasp and he tugged me closer. “Stop, Brad. I really have to go.”

“People will see your pretty paintings whether you’re there or not,” he said.

I looked behind him at Levi, his grin told me that he was entertained by his friend’s antics.

Brad
’s eyes blazed as he raked them over me and I felt a chill run up my spine. Brad had chosen a secluded spot to take his flirting games to a different level of creepy. There was no one around. My heart jumped in my chest and I dropped the food in my hands, suddenly realizing that it wasn’t important and pushed him away with both hands. Brad’s grasp slipped, but only for a moment.

“Stop!” I screamed, terror pumping through me. Why wasn’t he listening to me?

He pulled me close and ran his hand down my back.

I closed my eyes
, fighting back tears, and when I opened them, Brad was on the ground. My head was spinning and I felt a little sick, it took longer than it should have to realize that Jaron was standing next to me shaking in anger. Brad was nursing a bleeding nose and before I could shake out of my shock, Levi was charging Jaron. Jaron quickly leveled him with an upper-cut to his jaw.

When both boys were still, Jaron turned to me. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” His jaw tightened as he shifted his gaze back to Brad and Levi. I
’d never seen anyone more angry. All of Jaron’s muscles were tensed and I knew that he had red lined. I wasn’t sure how much control he had over it, but I knew that I needed to defuse the situation before it got out of hand.

“I’m fine, no one hurt me. He was just being stupid.” I
shot a dirty look at Brad, who was getting back on his feet.

“Hey,” he whimpered.

“Don’t interrupt her.” He glared at Brad and then at me. “I wouldn’t call what he was doing stupid, you defending him… now that’s stupid. Oh, and finding the only secluded spot in this whole area and going there alone? Yeah that’s also stupid.”

My mouth fell open. I wanted to scream at him.

“You two, get out of here and don’t ever touch a woman without her permission to do so.”

Brad looked at me sheepishly. “Sorry, Maribel. I didn’t mea
n to… I was just joking around—”

Jaron’s teeth audibly snapped
, and Brad must have taken it as his cue to leave.

I was still shaking when the boys were gone, from shock at what happened or anger at Jaron, I couldn’t tell. Slowly I turned to him and he mirrored my move. For a long while we just glared at each other. His face was as hard and glorious as an avenging angel, though I couldn’t understand why he was so angry at me. I broke eye contact to look down at
our ruined dinner.

“Come on,” he grumbled. “I’ll get you another.”

“No thanks, I can get it myself.” My appetite was gone, but I needed to at least get one for Sylvia.

“I’d feel better if you let me get you something to eat.”

“Why would that make you feel better? Why do you care?”

He turned his gaze to the ground. “I saw them follow you and I should have come to check on you sooner. It’s really my fault that your dinner’s in the grass.”

“It’s not your fault, and even if it was, you wouldn’t need to make it up to me. You just stopped Brad from doing something I know he would have regretted. He’s a stupid meat head, not a bad guy.”

“If he wasn’t a bad guy
, he wouldn’t have been touching you like that!”

This guy
! “I’m trying to say thank you, now stop freaking out. I’m fine and I’m outta here.”

On my way back, Jaron trailed three feet behind me
, saying nothing. When I passed the sculpture of the woman again, I frowned. The artist still wasn’t there. I caught Jaron’s eye, he was grinning and my breathing hitched. His smile was such a beautiful sight. I stomped on to the gyro stand, hoping he would get bored and stop following me. He was the only guy I’d ever had a sliver of attraction for. Did he have to be an unpredictable bipolar mess? And maybe it was more than a sliver of attraction. My cheeks were warm and my skin prickled into goosebumps. Was it normal to feel hot and cold at the same time just because someone was near you?

When I turned into my booth with our dinner, Jaron just walked on by like the rest of the hoard.

“Took you long enough,” Clarissa said around a mouthful of onion rings.

“Oh, Gyros!” Sylvia squeaked.

I knew it would be a mistake to tell either of them about what had happened with Brad, so I did my best to act normally.

“Yeah they smell good.
I almost ate them on the way here,” I said as I watch Jaron’s back disappear around the corner. He was trying to make me crazy. I wasn’t one of those girls who swooned and fawned over a boy. Let alone one that my logical brain said was trouble. So why was I sad watching him go?

3

“See you at today’s meet,” I called out to Clarissa.

“We will kick ass!” she shouted
, earning a glare from the history teacher in the hallway.

Jaron walked directly behind me on the way to art after an uneventful English lesson.

I pulled my stool out and rolled my sleeves up.

“So, is this seat still taken?” he asked narrowing his eyes.

“Not that I know of.” I sat down, telling myself to make nice with him. However cocky he seemed, he had to be a good guy. Not everyone would have done what he had. He had been outnumbered and I was perfect stranger to him.

He relaxed a bit. “Do you want to talk about what happened?” He set a blank canvas on his easel.

“No.”

“Are you sure? Sometimes it helps to talk.” He faced me and I could feel his gaze.

“How would you know what will help?” I sighed.
Be nice, be nice, be nice.
“It wasn’t a big deal. Honestly. I think I overacted.”

“You can never overact when someone is doing something to you that you don’t want done… You could have slapped him with a brick and it still wouldn’t have been an overreaction.”

I laughed, picturing Brad getting smacked with a brick.

Jaron smiled. “So are you an artsy girl?” He gestured to my blank canvas.

“Are you an artsy guy?” I asked, not used to answering questions about myself.

“No, not really. But your school doesn’t
have shop. So if I can’t build. I thought I’d try my hand at this. It’s better than nothing, even if I’m terrible.”

His hands
were thick, calloused, and looked like they were made for building, I wasn’t sure if they were made for art. “I don’t really think of myself as artsy. I just really like to paint.”

He picked up one of my paint brushes. “You any good?”

I paused, not wanting to sound full of myself. Truth was I had painted what people referred to as masterpieces since I was eight. The term masterpiece would indicate that I was a master, and I wasn’t buying that. But they were enjoyable to look at, and that’s all I cared about. “Some people think so.”

“Are any of these yours?” he asked, gesturing around the roo
m
t
o
the various paintings and sketches on the walls.

“Um… there aren’t any in here. But I do have one hanging up in the school.” For some reason I did
n’t want him to see my painting. The kids at school were a little weirded out by it. “Why were you at the art exhibit if you aren’t an artsy guy?”

“Even a simple non-tortured soul can enjoy beauty every now and again
... Of course, I may have just smelled food and started running towards the source.”

“So you’re not a sad sack with a book of emo poetry and a tortured soul? I don’t know if we can be friends.” I grinned.