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Gyahh, these two are soo frustrating!
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She walked through the desolate hallways in search of her locker, the one which would be hers for the entire year. Hoping for some kind of sign that she was in the correct hallway, she looked carefully at the numbers on each locker to see if there were any physical signs that she was anywhere close to anyplace she could call close. She was sure they put the building together wrong just for her benefit.
Her name was Dana. The quiet girl scenario plagued her existence; people thought she was smart. She didn’t tell them any different, that if you cracked open a book every once in awhile you could easily get an acceptable grade. Unfortunately for her, she had too many acceptable grades for her own good. Looking around, she knew books wouldn’t help her.
Dana Winifred Eiseley was lost.
She stopped to analyze her situation, vaguely aware of a sweet-smelling cologne coming from behind her; that is to say she knew there was a smell and there was someone standing behind her. She turned around only to stare up into a pair of incredibly blue eyes, ones that seemed, in a way, devious. The boy before her brought up his hand and plucked her schedule. He began to read it and she shifted slightly from her left foot to her right. She wanted to snatch that paper from his hand fiercely, but couldn’t find her strength suddenly. His eyes, though blank, were somewhat daring her to do something while he read her classes, personal information, and whatnot. After a long second he handed the paper back to her without guilt or argument and she glared at him, almost astonished at his audacity.
“Welcome, Eiseley, to the place where you will be from. You look lost. Turn left at the far corner that way,” he pointed back to where she had come from, “and it will be on the right. When looking for your classrooms, start from the south and move north. The numbers go up that way. As much as I love watching people wander aimlessly for hours, I’m in a charitable mood.” He paused. “What?”
“Your name if you will.”
“How ignorant of me to your person. Alan Carlton Svela.” He smelled sweet, like the combination of a fresh shower, high testosterone, and something oceanic. Nerves of steel, she could tell. He looked like someone she should watch our for. Alan’s hand rose for hers and instinctively she complied with the gesture; she was shocked. He was almost a gentleman. If it hadn’t been for his eyes, she would’ve believed he was. From the greeting she could’ve sworn he knew her, which made her a bit uneasy. “You graduated from finishing school not too long ago is that correct?”
“It is. You keep up with your news.”
“That and your watch is the same they give the graduates.” Dana nodded, and raised her hand. This young man had an eye for detail, which made her wonder what kind of friends he had, what kind of life he chose to lead. Whatever it was, she knew better than to mess with him while standing less than a few feet across from him for less than five minutes. From the way he carried himself, his stern blue eyes and blank expression, it wouldn’t have been a big surprise if he were an influential person in this establishment.
“Very observant.” Dana needed to move on before he struck up a conversation. She could end his discussion with her own theory, show him that she wasn’t falling for his act. His eyes told her everything she needed to know: He was not a nice person, and couldn’t be trusted. Her lips quirked slightly as she began to put together what she would say. “Why would you feel obliged to learn about people before they arrive?”
“Every single person is a puzzle that wants to be solved. It is intriguing to see into the mind of others.” Dana found herself slightly uneasy when she heard his tone, but knew it to be an automatic response to someone who was naturally intimidating. Pushing down the miniscule emotion she focused on those which would help her rather than break her down.
“And what happens when the puzzles cease to intrigue you?” He was a control addict. Things around him had to have order and she was sure by the few sparse minutes they spent conversing that he would do anything at all to bring order to his world.
His attitude could be hazardous to her person.
She shouldn’t associate with him any longer.
“Thank you for pointing out the right direction for me, Alan,” she said, hesitating. She chastised herself for not sounding confident in using his first name. She had the notion that not too many people used his first name at all, which also wasn’t a surprise. She also had the notion that calling him by name was an invitation for an acquaintance of some sort. Needing to get away from this was important. “I’ll be moving along now.” She began to walk past Alan when he spoke.
“I make you insecure.” It was more of a statement than a question.
“I imagine you’d enjoy hearing that from me.”
“Just as much as you’d like to tell me why I would be interested in your insecurity.” She waited, as though demanding an answer. So far her chances of making any friends in this place were very low. She had a confirming feeling that befriending Alan Carlton Svela or anyone associated with him would be very damaging. It was best to back away now. Strategically speaking she knew she had no choice since she knew nothing of him. How she despised backing away from a challenge.
And with that final thought she turned away stubbornly and walked away.
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