A Rose as Black as your Heart

(11) The Demon Hunter

Chapter....11? I think?

“No, seriously,” Travis insisted, as the two of us pretended to studiously bend over our books, “I know every ginger joke there is.”

“Not as many as me,” I said indignantly. “No one knows as many ginger jokes as me.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Hell yeah.”

Mr Johnson paused in the middle of his monotonous speech, and glanced up at us. Our heads swung back over our text books.

“Alexis,” Travis hissed. “Bet you I know more ginger jokes than you.”

“You’re on.” The bell rang, and we shot to our feet and began scooping up our books.

“What’s the difference between a brick and a ginger?” I shot at him.

“A brick gets laid.”

“How many gingers does it take to change a light bulb?”

“None. They prefer to sit in the dark.”

“What do a redhead and a freezer have in common?”

“They've both got ice on the inside.”

Damn it. He was pretty good.

“What do you call a ginger prostitute?”

Travis opened his mouth, then shut it again. I laughed.

“Ha! You don’t know it!”

“I never said that.”

“But you don’t, do you?”

“Well I don’t usually get referred to as a ginger prostitute,” Travis grumbled. “Go on then, what do you call a ginger prostitute?”

“Orange pay as you go.”

The answer didn’t come from me. Daniel Black shot us both a grin as he swerved round us and continued down the corridor. I felt the corners of my mouth lift in response.

“You know ginger jokes?” I called to him.

He grinned. “Personally, I prefer the blonde ones.” He laughed, and ducked into a classroom as I lobbed a pencil at him.

“You’re friends with him?” Travis frowned slightly.

“Don’t sound so surprised.” I went to go pick up my pencil.

“I’m not. It’s just that, he’s a really popular upper sixth former, and you’re... you.”

“A short, blonde, Canadian outcast?” I suggested. Travis shook his head.

“I was thinking more ‘strange’ and ‘crazy’. But Daniel Black likes you.” He glanced at me, then scowled. “Hey, quit smiling.”

I hadn’t even realised I was still smiling. “Hey, you sounded really Canadian there.”

Travis looked horrified. “Crap! You must be rubbing off on me!”

“At least you aren’t rubbing off on me.” The two of us headed towards another classroom. “Do you guys really have tea and cake with your grandmothers at three every afternoon?”

“Not every afternoon- only on Sundays,” Travis said solemnly, and then cracked up at my horrified expression. “Course we don’t, you muppet.” He mused my hair. “You’ve been here, what, a month? Geez. Tell you what; I’ll show you what a real English past time is after school.”

“There won’t be any tea and cake, will there?” I asked warily.

Travis laughed. “Not if you don’t want any.”