PUNS.
Song has no relation, I just wanted to listen to it as I read it again.
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The dreaded weekend. I looked up at the mere stature of Barnabas's house, approving of everything. They were rich- that much was clear with the perfect landscaping and material of the house- but it was tasteful. Clean cut and concise, so different from my verging-on-tacky overdone mansion.
I walked up his driveway, wearing a pair of jeans for once with a nice red sweater. Since I was meeting the sheriff- and had met the sheriff a bit more than other teens my age- I needed to make a good impression. Especially since the last time I saw him was when I was off my face drunk and told him I was trying to turn a new leaf.
So universe, welcome civilised Circe for a couple of hours, then everything will go back to normal.
I knocked on the door with a clacker thing that I never learnt the name of, and smiled widely when Sheriff Dumas opened it, big and mean looking.
Secretly, I think Sheriff Dumas knew that I wasn't trying to turn a new leaf, but he let me off because I was rich. It made sense- I was never held accountable for anything.
Which was...a lot less fun than people say it is.
"Circe, I remember my son talking about tutoring you." He gestured for me to come in, and again, I could see the uncanny resemblance he had to his son. While he was taller, older and more filled out, there was the familiar emerald eyes, thickets of black hair swept back from a strong face.
I nodded, holding out the bag of cookies. "Hi Sheriff Dumas. This may be the first time you see me un-inebriated, so I brought cookies to celebrate!"
His mustache and beard covered his smile, but I swear I saw it. But Lord, that man was so hairy- even Dora couldn't explore him. Sheriff took the cookies and tipped them out onto a plate, taking a few for himself before jerking his head to the hall.
"Nice cookies. Baz is down the hall, last door to the left. Don't piss him off too much."
I winked, taking the plate and turning to the hall filled with Japanese artwork, no doubt a small fortune's worth. "I can't promise you anything Sheriff, but I will say I'll tone my mouth down a bit. Just a bit."
"Forget what I just said. Piss him off, it'll make my day."
And just like that, I knew Sheriff Dumas was on my side. I think.
I skipped down the hall while precariously balancing the cookies, chucking two in my mouth just so I didn't immediately piss Dumas off. I burst into his room, averting my eyes before I entered, just in case he was doing something unsavoury like English homework. (A/N that didn't go where expected hehehe)
"What the fuck Circe? Are you that inbred that you don't even know how to knock?" Dumas yelled, throwing a few of his pencils at me. Turns out I didn't even need to speak to piss his majesty off.
I swallowed my cookies then put my head out the door. "How was that Sheriff?"
"You can do better." He replied loudly, and I laughed stepping back inside Dumas's room, closing the door and setting the plate on his desk. Barnabas sighed, leaning back in his chair, dressed in a basketball singlet and a pair of lacrosse shorts.
The boy was in very good shape. It was a shame he knew it.
Barnabas cleared his throat, "Done checking me out?"
I held up a hand, taking my time as I drew my gaze slowly over his defined arms, shoulders and right back up to his pretty eyes. "Now I am. I brought the cookies, now let's get studying!"
Dumas cleared his throat again, but my gaze went to the trophies lined up behind him, filling a whole book case. They were all for sporting achievements, community involvement and academics. He was an all-rounder.
"Impressive display Dumas." I ran a hand through my hair, turning to him. "Do you ever get tired?"
He raised a brow, folding his arms across his chest. "What do you mean?"
I gestured to the trophies, to the books laid out on his desk, to the notes stuck up on his walls. "Of this? Living to everyone's expectations?"
He was silent for a moment, then shrugged a shoulder. "They're not everyone's expectations. They're mine."
I leaned forward, catching his gaze fully. "But how would you know if they're your own, if they've been forced on you since birth?"
Dumas was quiet for a few moments before he rolled his eyes, flipping me off. "you don't get it Circe, you get whatever the fuck you want. So stop trying to psycho-analyse me and get onto this equation."
Something akin to hurt hit me briefly, but I crushed it instantly. There was nothing more dumb than feeling hurt because of a boy who didn't give a shit about you.
I stayed quiet, just going through the motions with the equations he made me do. There was really nothing to say to him either, since we weren't on a level for small talk. This went on for an hour before we took a break, and I took a pepsi from my bag, declining the cookie plate he offered me. Meals were a once or two time thing for me a day.
"So. Why'd you ask about my awards?" Dumas finally said, slightly uncomfortable with my silence.
I shrugged, pulling my phone out and scrolling through my Science Daily app. Dumas sighed, kicking my leg and repeating the question.
I rolled my eyes. "I was just wondering, God."
"No you weren't, you're Circe Lux, you don't ask anything unless you have a reason to. So 'fess up, I want to know."
I took a sip of my pepsi and looked back at my phone. "I told you, I just wanted to know. I thought it might be a bit hard doing as much as you do."
There was a second of stunned silence as Dumas realized I could actually give a shit about something other than myself.
"Well of course it's hard you idiot. Nothing easy is worth while, but you wouldn't know anything about that would you?" Ah, there it was. Asshole of the year, hitting full force.
And it seemed today, today of all days, was the day where I felt particularly upset about being called an idiot. You'd think someone who had heard it as often as I had would be completely unaffected by it- but no, I continued to defy expectation.
And not knowing anything about hard times? Or effort?
I grit my teeth and cursed myself as tears welled in my eyes, and I shoved all my books back in my bag, more angry at myself than anything.
"Circe, what are you doing?" Dumas exclaimed, gripping a book I was going to take.
"I'm parachuting- what the fuck do you think I'm doing Dumas? I thought you were smart." I pulled the book out of his hand and kept my gaze averted, throwing my pepsi can into the trash and standing.
"Wait- what the fuck- where are you going?" Dumas said, but I walked out- stalking down the hall and nearly into a Sheriff who stood in the kitchen, drinking juice.
"Sorry Sheriff, I need to go." I murmured, keeping my eyes behind him. I felt him do a double take, then felt his hand on my shoulder before I could move away.
"Hey, Circe, what happened?" Sheriff Dumas said, coming closer. Dumas came down the hallway, bewilderment clear on his face.
"Circe, what the fuck, we still have like another hour."
But all I could hear was him calling me an idiot, over and over again, just like everyone else did at school. Like I had heard my mother call me to her friends. I suppose I had looked for something different in Dumas- but he didn't care about me. He didn't want to know me for anything different than what school had dictated.
No one even fucking knew I was adopted. They all thought it was some recessive tan gene that had brought my skin colour. I didn't know what hard times were? I didn't know effort?
"Circe. Girl, what's wrong?" Sheriff Dumas murmured again, but I stepped back, blinking away my tears quickly and clearing my throat.
"Ah, nothing Sheriff. Ju-just something came up that's all, thank you for having me. I'll see you later- definitely sober."
And then I walked out of that house with so much grace I nearly high fived myself. But I wasn't in the mood, so I just got into my car and drove to college, deciding to get an early start on my readings.
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Childish Gambino