s*t*a*r*s - pt 7

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Anyone mind a midweek posting?  I got done my online classes and banged out a few pages:  JMG


            “I need your help,” whispers Spencer to Rylee during English Composition the next morning.  Rylee looks around the room, then back at Spencer.  This is a turn for the better.  Rylee had thought that Spencer would never talk to her again.

            “To do what?” asks Rylee in the same whispery tone that Spencer is using with her.

            Spencer glances around sheepishly, their professor is moving around the room, out of earshot.  “I’m not good with computers; I need your help looking someone up.  I’m not really technologically savvy.”

            “It’s easy…,” smiles Rylee.  Seeing Tegan pointing to them, smiling that Spencer is finally seemingly speaking to someone even if it isn’t herself.  If Spencer can open up to someone, it was good.  Sydney nods, nudging Abigail who looks up, then her eyes drop back down to the keys of her computer.

            “Not because I don’t really know how…,” sighs Spencer.  “I’m just not, computers don’t like me.  Take, for example, this one.  You know how many times I’ve written this opening?  Three.  Why?  Because the screen does a flickering thing, and poof, it’s gone.”  Spencer can’t explain what is going on, it is her own personal electric aura that zaps the computer into submission. 

            Rylee narrows her eyes, leaning over and watching.  Spencer makes an opened hand gesture.  She begins typing; Rylee is reading the quickly appearing words.  Eyes wide as she read Spencer’s opening statement, it is good, rather great actually.  Why can’t she be this poetic?  Then she sees it, the screen flickers, and she reaches over, slapping the control and the ‘s’ key with nimble fingers.  But it is too late, the computer has an error, and rebooted.  Rylee’s hand brushes Spencer’s chest, but the girl doesn’t move away as she usually does .


            “That’s weird,” muses Rylee.  She touches the keyboard again, and instantly gets a shock.  Yanking her hand back she rubs her fingers together.  “That’s even odder.”

            “See, I don’t want to fry the system.  Meet me in the java café for lunch?  Please?  If I don’t type it, I might not fry the system, so please?” asks Spencer begging in her own way.  The java café is for free periods, where students can email, chat, do research, and find music on the vast library that the Academy has in its data base.  The café closed at nine p.m. sharp. 

            Rylee nods, clearing her throat and whispers to Spencer, “Yeah, just between me and you, right?”

            Spencer nods curtly, “If you don’t mind.”

            “Naw, I’ll meet you.”

            Spencer moves away from Rylee and inwardly, Rylee smiles.  Finally, some headway is being made.  Watching Spencer walk away, Rylee feels an odd sensation overcome her, flashes of what is to come.  A soft gasp from Rylee, and then, a sexy smile graces her lips.          

            Rylee rubs her fingers together, knowing that most of her visions never come true and the ones that do, never seem to happen the way her visions did.

            This one has to be wrong; she’s never gotten any inclination from Spencer before.  They have, however, been building in Rylee.  Rylee likes mystery and Spencer is all that and more.  The vision has been nothing more than a second flash and it rocks Rylee deeply.   

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