Page 45 of A Dead Man's B-Side
Her eyes narrowed the slightest bit, and I was glad of the small tell. My head, in turn, lifted with the cold eyes that were always there, lying in wait.
Jett was someone to look out for, but I wasn’t worried enough to be wary.
Not until she proved herself a capable threat.
“Hey… everyone.” August’s voice was meek, gone with the excitement and back to the bullied scholarship student.
Though, it didn’t last long. My eyes followed the movement at his side as he pressed his hands behind his back and pinched the skin of his wrist as though attempting to draw blood.
There and gone.
“So, this is everyone, huh?” He walked further into the room, opting for the leather sofa with only Ajax sitting on the other end as company. Perhaps it was spite or arrogance, but August opted to sit right next to Ajax, despite the open space.
I almost laughed, had the tension in the air not have smothered it if I tried.
The room was similar to the rest of the library. The walls were deep brown, dark wood glossed over with a varnish finish, with book-filled shelves covering the walls, save for the painting hanging over the fireplace. One of dark grey clouds, a black moon, and barren lands. The empty and cracked trees painted with thoughtful detail over the glow of the fireplace below, giving the illusion of swaying branches.
Rain, Paris, and the nameless girl sat facing the fireplace at the far end of the room while Ajax, and now August, faced the short path we’d just entered from.
I didn’t take long to decide on my own seating arrangements, lest they think me someone like August. The utter horror.
I shielded my mind and sharpened my tongue, preparing for theverbal war that might come, if only by chance. I left Wolf to gather his own bearings before situating myself in the wide space Paris had, perhaps unconsciously, left between herself and Rain.
Wolf, upon my movement, seemed to have stepped back into the present and moved to the open seat next to August.
Rain didn’t spare me a glance, but I could feel Paris’s eyes against the side of my head in the silent room. It took a few seconds, and a lack of reaction, for Paris to avert her attention elsewhere. Only then did I begin to truly take into account the people around me.
I turned and looked over Paris, to the quiet girl sitting with her head bowed as though in fear. She continued to fidget and didn’t seem to be taking in her own surroundings. Or–based on her reaction–perhaps she already had and realized that a head bowed down would be better than a head chopped off.
August may have his moments of shame, but his big mouth made up for it in times he felt were of need. Everyone in this room, to some degree, can look the other in the eye without a gut-wrenching buzz eating away at their self-assurance.
This girl seemed as though she would prefer to cave into her own body than push someone over to make proper room for herself.
Paris picked up on where I had my eyes and, upon a slight nod of my head towards the girl to her side, she shrugged before mouthing, “She’s odd.”
Well, I could deduce that on my own.
Wolf, with his continued fixation on every slight movement I made, picked up on my curiosity and strapped on a soft smile. “Marigold, how are you?”
At his voice, I could feel Rain tense and Ajax taking notice before smirking her way.
I studied him subtly; he looked satisfied with her reaction, as though he were praying for the great student body president to… break.
The girl–Marigold–looked like she’d rather be anywhere but here, which was ironic considering I could have sworn we’d all come here out of our own free will.
Rather hypocritical of me, but I never said I had the reputation of a saint.
She lifted her head, looking at Wolf with wide eyes, as though looking into the horizon as an army approached right from over it. “I…” It was then that she caught the stares of the entirety of the room. All eyes were on her as she finally squeaked out, “I’m good.”
Wolf leaned forward, throwing his arm over the armrest. “That’s good to hear. Classes going okay?”
“Y-yeah, they’re going good.” Her pointer finger continued to twist into her skirt. A force of habit, I’d guess. I bet she didn’t even realize she was doing it.
As she answered, Paris ran a hand through her shiny blond hair before catching my eye. She pulled her lips back in a brief tooth-barring grimace, widening her eyes momentarily as though to say:geez.
Again, I wanted to laugh, and again, it really wasn’t the moment. But a flicker of amusement in my eyes, there and gone, slipped out.
Paris grinned.
