Chapter 10: The Harvest Dance

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The next week flew by, and Borgos swore I'd never been happier. My grades began to pick up, and Clarissa handed in her mythology essay.

She got 97%, an A+.

"Of course, I didn't do it all on my own," she grinned at me, and squeezed my hand.

"Oh, c'mon, I didn't do anything, it was all you," I grinned back.

Finally it was the night of the Harvest Dance, and I still had 30 minuets to go before I went to pick up Clarissa. I swear it was the longest 30 minuets of my life! I was already ready, wearing one of Borgos' tuxes, which in my opinion, made me look like some kind of penguin. My spiky hair didn't help either...and neither did Borgos, who insisted I looked like a cross between a hedgehog and a penguin.

Jerk.

I was pacing back and forth in the living room, and glancing at my watch

nervously. I swear it was broken; the minute hand seemed to take an eternity to move.

Damn watch.

Borgos, who was trying to watch Malcolm in the Middle, finally got fed up with me pacing and mumbling to myself about watches being a conspiracy to drive kids insane and shouted; "For crying out loud, Ace! Stop wearing holes in the carpet and sit down, boy! You pissing me off isn't going to get you anywhere faster except an emergency room!"

I sat down beside him with a grunt...and was back where I was 2 minutes later; pacing in front of the TV. Sighing dramatically, Borgos switched off the TV, seeming to have come to the conclusion that he wasn't going to get to enjoy his show until I was gone. "Ace, breathe. You've got 10 minutes left. You'll survive."

"10 minutes!?" I practically squeaked the answer in agony.

Borgos cringed, "I thought you finished sounding like a damn mouse at 12."

"Shut up." I continued pacing.

Borgos watched me pace in silence. The only other sound than our breathing and my feet padding softly on the carpet was the ticking of the clock hanging on the corner of the wall. Ticking very slowly...very, very slowly.

I swear the battery was dying, and when I suggested this to Borgos he rolled his eyes at me. Time slowed the closer it got to when I was supposed to pick up Clarissa.

Finally after centuries of torturous ticking, the clock reluctantly chimed 7:30.

I dashed out of the door, ignoring Borgos' gleeful exclamation of "yippee, the lunatic's gone!"

I practically jogged down the hall to Clarissa's room, and knocked on the door. Vaguely, I heard her yell through the door "It's open; I'll just be a minute longer!"

I stepped inside and waited; suddenly self-conscious again...did I really look okay? What if Borgos had planned some elaborate prank on me, and there was a splotch of red paint on the back of my suit? What if my hair was greasy? What if I really did look like a cross between a hedgehog and a penguin?

Clarissa's appearance stopped any thoughts skirting through my head though.

She wore a simple black dress that emphasized the square shape of her shoulders, and had a single little black satin bow on the dress' empire waist. She had black leather heels on, and her hair hung in loose curls which cascaded down her back. Her brown eyes were framed by dark lashes.

Wow.

I guess I'd been gaping, because she gave me an odd look and asked, "What? Don't you like it? I know I don't usually wear much make-up but I thought I'd dress up for once..."

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