Tightrope

Ravish Me

"Why were you talking about me?" I demanded.

"Just discussing your delightful attitude and sunny personality," said Jace cheerily. Then he tapped the tip of my nose. I would've bit his finger if I'd realised what he was doing. Instead, I settled for a slight narrowing of my eyes.

Chance snorted a laugh.

"Anyway, Jace, I need to talk to you," I said. I kept my voice casual. Relaxed. I smiled when I spoke.

"Uh, okay, well I'm just going to, um, go. Then." Chance pulled himself away from the lockers, pushing his locker door closed and bundling his assortment of books in his hands. Jace gave him a wave as he hurried away, his footfalls quick and immediately swallowed up by the crowd.

Jace turned to me. "Just letting you know. When you try to be nice to me, you kind of look like you're constipated."

"Well, when you try to be nice to me, you're a dick."

He raised an eyebrow. "Good one."

"Oh, shut up and follow me."

I extended my crutches and made my way down the hall. Halfway down, I stopped and turned back. Hartley was staring after me sceptically, still standing beside Chance's locker with his feet planted firmly in place.

"I'm not going to kill you."

"Wasn't concerned about that. Uh, I kind of am now?"

I rolled my eyes and continued down the corridor. Jace was a predictable guy. I knew that curiosity would prevail over trepidation. And I was right, for a few seconds later, I heard a muffled curse and the sound of sneakers squeaking against the tiles as he caught up to me, falling into step at my side.

We made our way down the hall in silence, the only sounds we made our footsteps and the metallic click of my crutch against the tiles. Around us, there was a clamour of voices as kids collected their lunch and caught up with their friends. In my peripheral vision, I could see Jace sneaking glances at me, as if trying to read my expression like an open book. I looked steadfastly forwards.

When we reached the end of the hallway, I grabbed his wrist and tugged him into a secluded alcove. The school had been built inside an old-timey building, which leant itself to hidden corners and quiet spaces. It made two things very easy to hide. Making out and murder. Generally, the spaces were used for the former, but I was all about grooving to the beat of my own drum.

I expressed my individuality in the form of murder.

Jace leant back against the wall, giving me some space. This particular hidden corner was small. All the better to kill you in, my dear.

"Hey, bestie!" I said brightly.

"Oh, Lena, you know you can't ravish me on school grounds, as much as you might want to. Whatever would Mr. Prendler say if he saw you?"

I poked a finger into his chest sharply. "And that is exactly the kind of thing that you need to stop."

"I need to stop rejecting your advances and being so sensible?" asked Jace. He was grinning like a Cheshire Cat, all amusement and glee. "Lena, I swear, another place and time..."

"Okay, see, that. You need to stop it with all of your little innuendos and jabs," I demanded.

Jace's eyes were wide with faux-innocence, like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. This was tempered slightly by the twitching of his lips that betrayed his entertainment. There was nothing more infuriating than being angry, and having the object of your anger refuse to rise to your level. Jace was a regular culprit of this; I was convinced someone gave him a daily chill pill.