by Zara Rivas
"Not scared are you?" She taunted.
Blue-grey eyes locked onto mismatched orbs challengingly. Sitting down, he made himself comfortable, stretching his long legs out before him. Only just aware that Essa had been staring, he threw her a lopsided grin.
Deciphering his flirtatious grin, Essa rolled her eyes at him. "Please Spencer, this is strictly business like always." She stated flatly, "If you require bimbo services, they're over there." She informed, nodding her head over to where he usually sat.
Chuckling, Creston slumped further down his seat. He was still getting accustomed to not having an effect on Essa. She wasn't breathless at the mere sight or closeness of him and it was surprising because he had that effect on every other girl. She was definitely different to any other female he'd met.
Turning to face her, he studied her briefly. She was seated at ease with her elbows resting atop the table. Her pouty red lips were glimmering at him as she cocked a brow up in question. Only just realising he'd been staring; he arched a brow back at her to cover up his slight discomfit.
"So what business do you have with me?" He inquired, watching as she averted her attention back to her beloved sketch book
"It's about you and Cassandra," she replied, continuing to speak before he could cut her off. "Listen first," she demanded, lifting her eyes from her picture. "I know you've told me that you're on a break but I can't help but to keep thinking I've caused this hiatus."
At her last word, Creston's brows rose up.
"It's another word for 'break'." Essa explained, "And don't change the subject."
Surprised by her accusation, Creston held up his hands. "I did nothing,"
Blinking at the light-brown haired boy, Essa continued. "Well as I was saying, you really didn't have to do anything for me. What happened at the party is between Cassandra and me. Besides just because you did such a deed, doesn't mean it'll change anything between me and you."
Smirking his usual leer, Creston crossed his legs in a lazy fashion. "I'm sorry to burst your bubble sweetheart, but things have already changed between us." He stated knowingly. "And if it makes you feel any better, I had intended on dumping the blonde that night. You know me and my inability to stay with a single girl for more than a month," he remarked and noticed the expression modify as she took in his words.
Trying to remain composed, Essa plodded down the urge to pick up her sketchbook and smack it across the idiot's head. She despised the way he called her 'sweetheart' simply because he made it sound like such a derogatory remark. She also didn't like the way he had made her feel stupid with his words.
Sitting up with her back held rigidly, she found herself clenching her hands into tight fists. She had no idea why she had even bothered to be civil with someone like Creston. She should have expected things would turn out this way. For a moment she thought the guy resembled a normal human with emotions – but she should have known better. She was after all speaking to Creston Spencer who was the devil's spawn.
Getting to her feet, she stood stiffly before him. "Right," she voiced. "I'm glad we got that straightened out," She said, about to turn and leave. However his comment about their circumstances altering was still in her head. "And as for us - I wasn't aware of any change considering I still hate your guts," she informed. It irritated her further to see his lips widen into a grin.
Gazing up at her bi-coloured eyes, Creston decided to break the momentary peace. "Well things have altered enough for you to have invited me to take a seat beside you."
Throwing him a final glare, Essa stalked out of the cafeteria, furious that she had even bothered with an egotistical jerk like Creston.
Watching her retreating back, Creston felt foolish. He had gotten her angry again without meaning to, though it was the fact that she had so confidently hinted that they'll always be enemies that made him become the sudden jerk he was. He didn't understand why she of all people hated him with such a burning passion.
Chapter Seven
Trisha Davis scanned the busy cafeteria with her pretty dark blue eyes. From what she could see, Essa was nowhere in sight as she took a seat at their usual table, placing her box of lasagne onto the tabletop. She wasn't used to being the seated alone since she was usually the last one out of class and therefore making her the last one to arrive for lunch.
Lifting her lid off her lunch, she dug into her hot lasagne and savoured the delicious taste. It had been a while since she'd had lasagne, but frankly she had to say that Italian cuisine was one of her favourite foods. Cutting another slice, a hand patted her on the shoulder as she gazed up to find Essa seating herself across from her.
"I'm late I know, and I am freaking hungry!" Essa explained, opening her box of Caesar salad.
"Let me guess," Trish began pointing her fork at her friend. "You just had English,"
With her mouth half full, Essa nodded her head. "I do believe we should call that class 'Creston Hell' from now on. I swear that egotistical jerk is out there to make my life a nightmare." She exclaimed, jabbing her fork into a piece of chicken.
Staring at the empty space beside Trish, Essa noticed the missing figure of her other good friend.
"Gone for that Math competition remember?"
With her mouth forming an 'o' in understanding, Essa continued munching on her lunch. Although she was preoccupied with eating, she didn't fail to notice the small tug at the corner of Trisha's lips.
Placing her fork onto the table, Essa decided to break the silence. "And why are you so happy?" She shot at her friend, arching a perfectly shaped brow to accentuate her question.
Trisha shook her head, casually shrugging. "It's nothing," she drifted and took one look at Essa's face before bursting out laughing at the pure disbelief etched across her features. "Seriously Ess, it's nothing."
Picking up her fork again, Essa pointed it in a mock-threatening way at the chestnut haired figure across from her. "Don't make me jab you with my beloved fork," she warned. "It's gotta be more than nothing if it's gotten you – who's usually tight lipped – to smirk,"
With her jaw agape, Trisha's eyes locked onto her friend. "Tight lipped?" She repeated and countered Essa's grin with one of her own. She guessed it was true that she didn't usually smile much, however, growing up the way she did, how could she smile as nonchalantly as she had seen many others do?
From the tender age of eight, Trisha was forced to grow up faster than all the other kids. Her mother had filed for a divorce from Mr. Davis due to his involvement with dealing illegal substances; but had lost all parental rights due to the money and power her father possessed. So at the age of eight, Trisha and her older brother, Werner, had been taken away from the safety of their mother – losing contact with the woman for almost five years.
Now that a decade had lapsed, Trisha had moved back in with her mother whilst her brother had moved to Australia to complete his engineering degree. Grinning wider at the thought of Werner, Trisha's attention snapped back to Essa.
"Oh you're back," Essa teased. "For a moment I thought you'd be in fairyland until the end of lunch." She remarked. "But now that you are back, maybe you'd like to tell me what's gotten you all chirpy."
Spooning another piece of lasagne into her mouth, Trisha shook her head at her dramatic friend. "Werner's coming back from Australia," she said, trying to hide all the excitement from her voice. Leaning back in her seat, she observed Ess pensively, feigning nonchalance. "See? I told you it wasn't anything special."
Staring wide-eyed at her friend, Essa fully digested the news. "Nothing special?!" She half-shouted, "You have been waiting all these years for Werner to come home, and now that he is coming back you're calling it 'nothing'?" She queried her last words in hysterics.
Unable to suppress the face-splitting grin, the blue-eyed beauty laughed. She wouldn't have expected any less of Essa who was always happy for everyone. And even though Werner wasn't her brother she was still genuinely ecstatic.
Leaning over the table, Ess g
ave Trisha's hand a soft prod, her blue-green orbs set in an inquiring fashion.
"So?" She urged.
"He's coming back at the end of the week and mum's practically euphoric. You should see her – she's taken ten days of leave from work and she's planned a whole lot of festivities." Trisha elucidated, the smile still etched across her strong features.
With her eyes set intently on her best friend, Essa found herself unconsciously beaming wider. She rarely saw Trisha excited about anything, but whenever the girl was ecstatic, it managed to change the atmosphere and her perspective on life. Here was Trisha, who had money, the brains, everything a person could ask for and yet she was so unhappy – bitter even. But at the slight mention of her brother and her mother, it was enough to send the girl into heaven.
Hearing footsteps approaching their table, Essa beamed wider, thinking it was Chris. Averting her attention to the person now standing at their table, warmth spread through her at the thought of sharing this news with yet another person Trish was close to.
Glancing up, the moment Essa's eyes hit the shadow of the masculine form standing motionless beside her, was the instance her face fell as she realised she wasn't staring at Chris. As she digested the towering figure of Creston Montgomery Spencer, her brows knitted together as her smile turned into a frown.
As memories of English Hell flooded her head, Essa found herself glaring daggers at the now smirking Creston.
"Hello ladies," the Soccer Captain greeted.
Trisha who usually hated Creston's guts, gave a small wave in reply. She had witnessed the immediate change to her friend's expression and she couldn't help but stifle a laugh. Never in her life had she seen Essa react in such a way to anyone before, and it was surprising at how angry she did get at the slight mention of Spencer. Observing with twinkling eyes, Trisha leaned back into her chair, ready to enjoy the show.
"Excuse me Spencer but I do think you're lost." Essa found herself muttering, eyes never leaving grey ones.
Not in the least offended by her mannerism, Creston pulled out the chair beside her and seated himself comfortably. He knew she was still angry at him from earlier today, but she was just stubborn and refused to see both sides of the debate they had been arguing intently on.
The English teacher Ms. Jackson had decided to change their learning topic and moved over to debates. She had picked out names from a hat and chose an opening sentence where two people were to debate over.
Creston wasn't sure whether if it was pure luck, but he found himself up against Essa. Their statement was: 'There is a need for animal testing'. Essa had immediately opted to go against the topic whilst he chose for. And in front of the class, the two had battled it out.
He already had all his arguments planned in his mind but he hadn't expected the girl to get so fired up over something as petty as a school debate. She had presented in a menacing fashion – using strong words, preying upon the classes' sense of compassion. He however, brought up the practical side of things – mainly the medical side – and had slowly won over everyone.
After reigning victory, he approached her, and being the idiot that he was, he somehow managed to rub Essa the wrong way. The last he saw of her was when she stormed out of the class just as the bell rang.
"Still mad?"
With her back held straight, Essa managed to stare down her nose at him even in her seated position. He was taller than her, but then again he was slouched forward so she managed to glare at him in an intimidating fashion. She was still furious about the events in English today. She wasn't angry at the fact that she had lost the debate, but it was the way Creston had acted that pushed her to fiery rage.
As the debate concluded, she willed herself to congratulate him out of good sportsmanship, though it annoyed the hell out of her to see him smirk at her in such a condescending fashion. What caused hell to freeze over was when they shook hands and he leaned into her ear thanking her and calling her sweetheart.
Gazing at Trish who was seated across from her, Essa threw her friend death glares when she noticed Trish was chuckling softly.
"My my my, aren't you guys a happy bunch." Chris welcomed sarcastically, taking the vacant seat beside Trish. His blue eyes scanned all three figures. Trisha was smiling, Essa was frowning and Creston was smirking. Staring into Essa's angry eyes, he cocked a brow. "Let me guess," he stated. "You have an urge to bash the crap out of Creston,"
For the first time, Trisha spoke. "She mentioned something about English being hell," she informed. "So what have you done Spencer?"
Raising his brows in bewilderment, Creston placed his arms up in mercy. "I did nothing," he stated. "I was just participating in the debate this morning and won. So your friend is a sore loser," he pointed.
Dropping her fork, Essa glared at the form beside her. He really had a way of putting words as well as presenting himself that ticked her off. She was infuriated with herself for losing her cool so easily at the minor things he did. Feeling obliged to defend herself, she sneered at him.
"Well some of us have morals." She remarked, "Think about the poor animals that cannot fend for themselves against human testing."
Rubbing a hand over his tired eyes, the blonde shook his head.
"Not this," Chris groaned. "Anything BUT this," he emphasized and pointed an accusing finger at Creston. "You got her started, so you shut her up."
Crossing his arms, Creston slouched even further down his seat. "We were done with this conversation at the end of English," he voiced. "Besides, if you love your animals so much, then why may I ask are you eating chicken?"
For once in Essa's life she was speechless. She didn't know what to say – actually she had thousands of comebacks for Creston, but none of them appeared 'right' to her. So instead of responding, she jabbed a piece of lettuce and shoved it into her mouth all the while glaring at the idiotic male beside her.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Christopher Welling tried not to be affected by the solemn silence between all of them. Essa was huddled in the couch closest to the corner of the room with her arms crossed over her chest, whilst his good mate Creston was busy staring at the TV screen. The atmosphere was awkward, but he was sure that things would return to normal if either Creston or Essa made an effort to speak to one another.
Tynan didn't know what to do to fill the weary silence in his bedroom, but all he knew was that something had to be done otherwise he'd die from the tension within the air. Never had he ever expected to have both his childhood friend and his best mate in the same room willingly. Well… maybe 'willingly' wasn't the right phrase considering it was just a coincidence that both Essa and Creston had decided to visit him on the same day and at the same time.
Originally it was supposed to be him and Essa spending the afternoon together, but then his mother had called Creston over seeing as the boy loved her cooking. And since Essa had agreed earlier on to stay for dinner and Creston had come over to the Welling's residence, well… That was why Chris was in his current predicament.
But now that they were miraculously together, he was going to make the best of the moment.
"So guys, you wanna play some soccer?" He queried, knowing full well that Essa enjoyed playing for fun with him every now and then.
Scoffing, Creston found himself throwing Essa a once-over before averting his attention back to Chris. "Maybe we should choose a less intimidating sport. I'm sure she's too feminine to be playing boys' soccer anyway," he remarked.
As her feminist side erupted, Essa stood up from her seated position and grabbed Chris' beloved soccer ball from the corner of his room. She threw the ball at Creston and arched a brow arrogantly at the jerk. How dare he! She thought, not liking the fact that the fool had just thought her incompetent of playing soccer.
"I bet I can shoot three goals with you as goalie," she found herself challenging.
She knew she was overreacting but Essa absolutely loathed the fact that Spencer thought less of h
er. She knew she wasn't great at soccer though she knew she was good enough to be doing some serious practice with Chris every week. And although she was certain that Creston was one hell of a soccer player, she would have died before backing down from his statement.
With her chin held up in defiance, Essa's gaze locked onto grey orbs.
"Is that a challenge?" Creston questioned, spinning the ball in his hand. He hadn't expected anything less from her considering she almost always loved to dispute everything he had to say at every opportunity.
With her shoulders thrown back, the jet-black haired figure smiled mockingly. "So what if it is?" She asked rhetorically, "Aren't scared of me are you Spencer?" She taunted and unconsciously smiled when all six foot of him got to his feet.
Seeing that he finally made a bit of a progress in filling the awkward silence, Chris stood, snatching his soccer ball from Creston's hold, making a run for the front entrance.