Enchant Me

by Anne Violet

  “You’re Miguel?” I asked. He nodded his head while looking me over.

  “I am Alexis Maher--”

  “I know who you are,” he interrupted.

  My stomach soured at this. I turned to his work. “Your pottery is amazing.”

  “Thanks, my grandmother taught me all I know,” he replied too warmly, all his Latino charm present and accounted for.

  I didn’t like the way he sidled up to me and seemed to use his height to look down my shirt. So I changed my angle and motioned imperiously for him to stand in front of his work.

  “I need to take your picture for yearbook and possibly it could be put in the school paper too.”

  “Really? How about this?”

  The diversion worked. Like most artists, and I did include myself in this, we had decent sized egos-- you had too. He leaned against the table almost toppling it over and crossed his arms over his chest while trying to discretely flex his muscles. Resisting the urge to roll my eyes I quickly took the picture.

  “Thanks, bye.” Bordering on rudeness I didn’t wait for a response and quickly moved on to the next exhibit. Here the artists specialized in water colors. I recognized a fellow Junior, Marie Summers, a quiet but nice, pale haired girl that kept to herself. It didn’t surprise me that her preference was for soft landscape pictures reminiscent of Monet.

  “Hi Marie, your paintings are really lovely. Have you ever painted the Olympics from Pioneer Park?”

  “No, I mainly stick to the big public gardens in the area,” she replied, her voice a mere whisper. “What if I paid you for it?” “Seriously?” She asked.

  “I’m serious, I love that view.” Ripping a piece of paper off the small note pad I had, I wrote down my phone number and gave it to her. “Call me and we’ll get together.”

  “Thanks I will,” she said with more confidence than when I first came up.

  “Can I take your picture for Yearbook and the school paper?” This made her start to chew on her lip like she was nervous again. “I can take a profile shot of you with your work instead of head on if you like?” A happy smile crossed her face at this and I quickly snapped the picture. She looked a little surprised but I quickly showed her the picture on the screen. “If you don’t like it I can take the profile shot, but I think this is a really great picture.”

  She looked at me with a smile. “I can see why you are a photographer.”

  “Thanks and don’t forget to call me about the painting.” I moved away happy that I seemed to have made a new friend. I passed by the glass artists and we didn’t seem to have anyone represented there, so I moved on to the oil painters, looking over the cards listing names and schools first. Finally I came across a Christian Marino, a senior of course. His name wasn’t familiar but he could’ve transferred from another school.

  When I finally looked up at him--I felt my whole body still. I didn’t know how to begin to catalogue all the ways in which he was perfect. Thick dark brown hair that could almost be black seemed to be growing out naturally from a short cut, falling around his face, the bangs almost in the way of his dark golden brown eyes. I fought the urge to move it out of my way so it didn’t interrupt my view of his eyes. He was slender but muscular with perfect symmetry, which as an artist I deeply appreciated. He also had the cutest nose; I don’t know why I thought so but I did. I hadn’t even gotten to his lips, they were a perfect shape and nicely full, like every kiss he gave you would be more than a kiss but a full enveloping caress. As I met his eyes again I realized I wasn’t alone in my fascination. He was staring at me just as intently.

  For the first time, I suddenly understood what writers meant about the whole world coming to a standstill and not being aware of anything but the person in front of you. I had stopped hearing the other people around me; I didn’t see the exhibits or the auditorium anymore. Even my always active brain stopped thinking and just took in the wild emotions running through me. If I had a thousand years, I still don’t think I could do justice to explaining the depth of my feelings at that moment.

  I felt a hand joggle my arm to get my attention, jarring me out of my stupor, and I looked around to find Stephanie, an acquaintance from school looking at me quizzically. I watched her glance at Christian then back at me.

  “What are you doing here Alexis?” she asked, looking at me in a sort of predatory way I couldn’t remember ever experiencing before, at least from a girl.

  There was something about her tone I didn’t like. I looked down at her which wasn’t hard since she was even shorter than my five foot five inches.

  I lifted my camera into her view. “Yearbook and school paper.”

  “Oh.” Satisfied by my response she took one last look at Christian and then moved on.

  I wouldn’t consider her a friend but we talked once in awhile; as she walked away, it hit me. A couple weeks ago she had mentioned liking a senior and finally getting the courage to ask him out; he turned her down flat but she was still carrying a torch for him. Great… I remembered belatedly, she did say his name was Christian. I could hardly blame her for falling so hard for him.

  When I finally turned back to him, he was busily painting, his brows pulled together while he intently mixed a couple of different red shades on his palette. Unlike the other artists he had turned his easel away from the crowd and so was facing us while he worked. I took the moment to glance at his other paintings displayed on the table. He was beyond talented, no wonder he was here. His portraits were beautiful, displaying more than the person or couples physical image but something about them emotionally too. One in particular caught my eye, a little dark haired girl with laughing blue eyes. There was definitely a resemblance there. She must be a young relative. Next I looked at his landscape pictures. They were exquisite, with the kind of patient, finite detail even Miguel would have to appreciate. When I finally dared to look back at him, I found he was looking at me too.

  Suddenly, I didn’t trust myself to speak intelligently to him. So I pointed at my camera, silently asking him if I could take his picture. He nodded and moved his stool a little to the side for me to get a better shot. At this point I actually noticed his clothes. He dressed older than his years with a style and taste that usually only came with age. A black button up shirt with the first two buttons undone, dark jeans and a leather wrist cuff that didn’t look like it was bought off the rack but possibly done by an artisan. He had a couple of silver rings on and these too looked like custom pieces. My respect for him multiplied even while I accepted that he was totally out of my league.

  I took as much time as I reasonably could, framing him in the screen and then taking the picture. Before he moved from his pose, I quickly zoomed in and got a close up of his face. When I lowered the camera and met his warm brown eyes again, I felt a hot blush start to develop. Horrified, I ducked my head in a quick thank you and made a hasty exit out of the auditorium. I couldn’t believe--me--Alexis Maher, was blushing and speechless just because a gorgeous guy was looking at me. Well, to be fair he wasn’t just any guy, he was insanely beautiful and creative with seductive eyes that could melt the sun. But besides that-- I was a creative, motorcycle chick that had belly danced for crowds in the hundreds at local festivals. How had he gotten to me? It didn’t feel like just attraction, it was like pure chemistry. That was it! The pleasure centers in my brain weren’t giving me a choice. I snickered out loud at this and then quickly looked around to make sure no one had heard.

  While driving home, I decided I couldn’t wait till tomorrow to talk to Tina. I didn’t care how selfish it was, I was going to call her as soon as I got home, no matter how late. The whole way there I kept feeling a stupid, giddy grin spreading across my face.

  My mom was already in bed when I got there so after cleaning off my makeup and getting everything ready for tomorrow, I called Tina. “Hey, were you sleeping?” I whispered. Of course by her confused voice I could tell I had woke her up. A tiny bit of guilt passed through me but just as quickly exite
d a second later. “I have to tell you about the art show.”

  “What? Nicolas didn’t show up did he?” She was waking up now, I could hear the worry in her voice.

  “God no, bite your tongue.”

  “What then?” She could finally tell that I was happy excited, not scared excited.

  “I saw the most gorgeous guy tonight,” I confessed and lost the battle to control my giggle.

  “I thought you had sworn off men,” she said with amusement.

  “I did? I don’t recall that. But you would so understand if you saw him.” I pulled my camera out and turned it on, quickly finding the two shots of him. “Dark hair, sultry eyes and a muscular body but not like he is obsessed with the gym; He is hot, hot, hot girlfriend.”

  “Is he from Crescent Point?”

  “Yeah, a senior, his name is Christian Marino. Have you ever heard of him?”

  “No but that doesn’t mean anything. Assuming you took pictures of this paragon can we reconvene this discussion tomorrow?”

  Even though I knew she couldn’t see it, I smiled sheepishly. “Of course, you know you really are the bestest friend a girl could have.”

  “I know, good night Lex.”

  “Good night.”

  Getting up for school earlier than I would normally like, I went straight to my closet. I was going to put a little more care into my look than usual for school. I felt that same giddy grin start to develop as I thought about the reason why. Sitting down at my vanity, I opened my make-up kit and stared at my death warmed over complexion; this was going to take a lot of work. Throwing on the same jewelry as the night before and brushing out my hair, I was finally ready. I took one last look in my full length mirror, thankful for my curves--not bad at all. Luckily I got to school pretty early and I went straight to Tina’s first period class.

  She was already outside of her class waiting for me with a big smile on her face. “Hey, so did you want to see the pictures?”

  “You’ve got it bad, don’t you?” There was a little bit of surprise in her voice and her dark eyes were wide with amazement. Ignoring that, I quickly found his picture in the camera and showed it to her. “What do ya think?”

  “Not bad at all,” she replied. That was an understatement of a lifetime. I rolled my eyes and then looked at her.

  “I guess it is actually a good thing we don’t have the same taste in men.”

  “Yeah,” she said smiling at me, most likely remembering all the guys she had crushes on that I just didn’t get the attraction.

  “So, are you up for a little reconnaissance mission at the secretary’s office?” I asked.

  “You mean for this?” She queried, holding out a piece of paper. It was Christian’s class list.

  I started laughing. ”You’re the best. Does this make me a stalker?”

  She laughed at this and then pushed me towards my own first period class, which I was of course, running late for. “Yes it does, do you want to give me back the list?”

  “No,” I said and even gave a little shake of my head to emphasize the point and ran non stop straight to class, clutching the list against my chest. Her laughter seemed to follow me all the way down the hall.

  CHAPTER 2

  Preparing to sneak into class, I belatedly realized there was no need. Apparently Mrs. Love was running late too. I was about to dump the entire contents of my book bag onto my desk in search of my homework when suddenly a white box with a dark red ribbon and bow, no bigger than a notebook, was shoved under my face. Bewildered I stared up and up into a tall, brunette, girl’s face. I vaguely recognized her. She was a senior, not one I had a problem with thankfully. I glanced back down at the box as she dropped it into my hands. It wasn’t my birthday and even if it was, I didn’t know her. I looked up to question her and she was gone.

  I could feel a couple kids looking at me questioningly, but luckily I wasn’t close enough to anyone in this class for them to be comfortable to ask about it. I was completely surprised, which was pretty rare for me. Slowly I undid the ribbon and lifted off the top part of the box. One look inside and I knew exactly who it was from. On a framed, miniature canvas, there was an exquisite Celtic knot design similar to the one still on my hand. Within its patterns, there were words in a medieval looking script. I had to keep rotating the canvas to read the whole message. Alexis, will you go to prom with me. Christian.

  Taking my lip between my teeth to stop that giddy smile from happening again, I lifted out the miniature easel the canvas came with and placed it on there. This was probably the most romantic thing that had ever been done for me. I’ve gotten flowers, jewelry, even been serenaded outside my window, but this would’ve taken hours to do. What I couldn’t figure out is why did he want to go out with someone he hadn’t even technically met yet? Was he crazy? Hadn’t he heard the rumors about me?

  Gently I put both items back in their box to keep them safe. Finally Mrs. Love came in, and having pity on us since we had Friday fever, she just gave us our homework and let us work on it in class. That was my cue to finally look at Christian’s class list. I already knew we didn’t have any classes together but it looked like our second and sixth period classes were near each other. I didn’t recall seeing him at lunch but maybe he left school for that. Deciding I would have to find a way to sneak a peek at him in second period, I knew I would have to reach my class first or be the last to leave it, to catch a glimpse of him.

  Trying to be unobtrusive, I texted Tina and my other close friend Becca to give them the news and asked them to meet me at lunch. After that the hour seemed to drag and I couldn’t concentrate on my math assignment for my life, so I kept coming up with excuses to leave. First I needed to put the box in my locker; then I needed to go talk to the secretary and lastly to go to the restroom--for a little primping. As I stepped into the restroom I immediately regretted it. Three seniors, all of whom I knew to be friends of Nicolas’s, were gathered in there. In one motion they all turned to look at me. There was one important lesson I had learned because of this situation with Nicolas -- you couldn’t show fear. The seniors were like dogs. If you let them sniff your fear, they would rip you apart.

  I returned their stares for a second then forced myself to casually walk up to the mirror. They started to whisper behind their hands. Reminding myself to remain calm I freshened up my lip gloss then calmly and deliberately started to pull a brush out of my cosmetics bag. Abruptly I was hit with the same sensations as the previous day but slightly stronger and for a split second I thought I saw an image of one of the girls grabbing my brush and attempting to rip through my hair. Shaking myself out of the weird feeling, I finished taking my brush out.

  Without even looking I instinctively found myself snatching the girl’s wrist before she had barely extended it, startling both of us in the process. “Don’t…ever do that,” I threatened, staring hard into her eyes.

  For a moment she just stared at me, then ripping her wrist out of my grip she and her friends made a quick retreat calling me every curse word they could think of on the way. Once they were gone I leaned against the wall to collect myself and force myself to stop trembling. Whether it was because of my near fight with the seniors or the strange vision I had, I wasn’t sure. Surely it had just been Déjà vu, although I had never heard of it being so strong, so real, or so physical. I wouldn’t complain. Hopefully that would be the last time those particular girls bothered me. After doing a couple of yoga poses I felt calm and ready enough to go back to class.

  It seemed like the longest hour of my life when the bell finally rang. I was practically running out the door when I almost ran into him. Christian. I came to such a dead stop upon seeing him that I almost fell right over. Nope. I wasn’t dreaming, he really was that beautiful. “Hi.”

  “Hi,” he replied while looking me over. His brown eyes were warm but curious.

  I realized he was looking for his box, well--maybe not just the box. “I put it into my locker for safe keeping. It was re
ally beautiful, thank you.”

  I now took a turn looking him over. Even though he was more casual today with a black coat, t-shirt and dark jeans, he was still yummy.

  “You’re welcome, can I walk you to your next class?” he asked and stepped slightly to my side allowing me to walk just a little ahead of him.

  “Sure.”

  Once again I felt an idiotic blush coming on and I dipped my head a little, allowing my hair to fall forward for me to hide behind. Without looking I could feel him trying to lean forward and catch my eyes, his body so close that I could feel his heat all down my side. And I could swear his hand was hovering at my lower back in that gentlemanly protective sort of way. When I thought I had my blush under control, I looked up at him. He was tall but not too tall; I wouldn’t get a crick in my neck looking at him nor have to find a footstool to kiss him. I couldn’t keep my gaze from lingering on his lips while I thought about that.

  He was just perfect, like cupid had taken my list for the ultimate guy and sent him to me. Completely entranced I literally started to walk by my class until he gently grasped my elbow and pulled me to a stop. “This is your class,” he leaned in and whispered.

  The look in his eyes was mildly amused but I decided I wouldn’t take exception to it--this time. I started to walk away when I felt him reel me back, all the way back, until my whole right side was pressed against the entire left side of his body from head to toe. His breath was warm against my cheek. “Alexis… the feeling is mutual.”

  I pulled away and headed into class. As I got safely across the threshold I looked back and gave him the sultriest look I could. “Of course.”