Amaranthine

Chapter Six

 © Copyright 2011
All work is property of Leah Crichton, any duplication or reproduction of all or part of the work without explicit permission by the author is illegal.

Excruciation: (ex-krue-she-ay-shun)

a state of acute pain

the infliction of extremely painful punishment or suffering

Before I had a chance to analyze his words, the blonde she-viper entered wearing the same scowl from math class. I bit my tongue, wanting desperately to tell her if she wasn’t careful her face might freeze that way. Secretly, I hoped it did.

With a flip of her lifeless hair she sat down in front of our table and whispered hushed words to the boy next to her. They turned like a couple of synchronized swimmers.

Orion offered a small wave. “This is Quinn,” he said. “It’s her first day. Quinn, this is Chloe,” he pointed to the blonde, “and Tyler.”

I wanted to kick him under the table. Chloe had already determined I was the enemy for whatever reason, and as much as it killed me not to put her in her place, I didn’t want to cause drama on my first day here. “Hi,” I muttered.

Tyler gave me a slight tip of his chin and said, “Hey.” Chloe huffed, her eyes loaded with disgust before she shook her head and turned her back to us.

Good riddance, I thought. 

“I don’t think she likes me,” I whispered to Orion. I hoped he would take this knowledge and refrain from introducing me to anyone else.

“Who, Chloe?”

I nodded.

He dismissed my statement with a wave of his hand. “Ahh, don’t worry ‘bout her. Chloe doesn’t much like anybody.”

“Shocking,” I said. “I mean, she’s such a ray of sunshine and all.”

Orion brought the end of his pencil to his mouth and chuckled softly. “I think you’re bright enough for all of us.”

The rest of the morning passed without incident except that every chance Chloe got, she made it clear I was unwelcome in her world. Pegging Orion as haughty was wrong. He wasn’t arrogant; he was confident to the point where I was jealous. I suppose if I were a guy who strongly resembled a GQ model, I’d be self-assured too, so I couldn’t blame him, but I did watch him in quiet awe.

He’d invited me for lunch and by the time we arrived, the cafeteria was packed. After collecting our sandwiches and drinks, Orion, who now carried my backpack and lunch tray, led the way outside. His size forced people in the crowd to move. It reminded me of the parting of the Red Sea and made my journey from lunch line to table remarkably easy. Now if he could just precede me everywhere I went, my life on crutches would be effortless.

He headed straight for a picnic table where the three others he’d been talking to that morning sat.

“Guys,” he said to them, “This is Quinn. It’s her middle name. She won’t tell me her first. Quinn, meet the guys.”

“Hey! I’m not a guy.” A blonde girl with corkscrew curls smiled at me. “It’s nice to meet you, Quinn. I’m Alicia, and for the record, I wouldn’t tell him, either. He’s a real know it all.” She leaned in close and added, “But you can tell me, if you want.” 

Could a voice be sweet? Because hers was. I found myself smiling. “Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.”

Alicia introduced her twin, Alex. Like his sister he was tall and blonde, but his eyes were hazel, not green like hers. Now that I was closer, Mona, the girl I mistook for Orion’s girlfriend could have been his sister, except her eyes were inky and dark like her hair. All four of them were absurdly good looking, and I sat meekly, hyper aware that one of these things was not like the others, and that thing was me. Their appearance made me uncomfortably aware of the scar that taunted me each time I looked in a mirror. I brushed my hair forward in an effort to hide it while Orion observed me with a sad, tender expression.