"Okay," she said grumpily and opened the gate.
She defiantly looked at herself in the mirror. She was not going to change. They were the ones who were visiting her. She didn't ask them to.
Her hair had green paint on the tips and was a shaggy mess. She opened the front door and stood in the opening as Alric got out the car, waving to her as he went to open Tracy's door.
Who said chivalry was dead? Arnella thought snarkily, but a piece of her, the part that she thought hadn't gone all bad, admired Alric's old-fashioned manners. If she were to be honest, she admired him. He looked handsome in his dark-gray suit. He was clean-shaven, and his hair was growing back from the completely bald look. Tracy stood beside him when she came out of the car, deliberately pressing closer to him than was necessary Arnella thought.
Alric eased back from her quickly. Arnella grinned; in a flash she summed up his feelings toward Tracy. It was not encouraging. Poor rich Tracy.
"I told him nothing was wrong with you," Tracy said, looking over at her. "See, you look happy."
Arnella laughed a forced sound that sounded fake, even to her own ears. "Why would you think something was wrong with me, Alric? I am fine."
"Your brother preached at church today, his first time in the pulpit for the semester. I thought you would have come for that."
Arnella shrugged. Vanley had begged her to come, and she would have, if she had not been so rattled by the video in her email. She hadn't slept since she watched it. She had been in the basement all night painting. She wouldn't tell Alric that though, especially since Tracy was there.
She looked up at Alric; he had walked up to and stood close in front of her. He towered over her, his tall muscular frame almost daunting. He smelled good too. Her eyes connected with his, and for the life of her, she couldn't shift her eyes from the stare. He was reading her; his eyes were burrowing into hers, trying to ferret out her secrets. She tried to break the contact but it held her there. It was magnetic, almost other-worldy.
"Nice place," Tracy said brightly, looking between the two of them with a puzzled expression.
Alric dragged his eyes from Arnella's first, and she blinked.
"Yes, er thanks. It's Deidra's place."
"Deidra Durkheim!" Tracy squealed. "You know her?"
"Yeah," Arnella said. "She is married to Marcus. So technically she is a Bancroft now."
"You dark horse you," Tracy said, shreds of envy in her tone. "You never told me you were so closely related to the Bancrofts."
Arnella shrugged, "I am. Come on in, since you are already here." She looked back at Alric, who was looking at her with his eyebrows raised mockingly.
She indicated to the living room and Tracy followed her, gasping in awe. "This place looks amazing."
"Yes, it is," Arnella said." Would you guys like lunch? Charlene has the fridge stocked with food."
"Who is Charlene?" Tracy asked the question she had been dying to ask.
"Deidra's sister," Arnella replied abruptly. She was beginning to regret their intrusion into her day.
"Yes, I would like some food," Alric said. "I was planning to eat at my parents but having lunch with you would be as good."
Arnella opened her mouth to tell him that he wasn't having lunch with her, but then closed it. She needed to be gracious Alric had really saved her life the other day when he invited her to his mother's birthday lunch. He had also possibly saved her from jail when she attacked David.
So, she put on her best hostess smile and took out Charlene's cooked food. She even made vegetables and a fruit salad. All the while Tracy was talking a mile a minute, asking her questions about her family.
"I can't believe that you personally know Marcus Bancroft," Tracy said enviously.
Arnella shrugged, "Marcus and I were adversaries when we were younger. We used to fight a lot when I came to stay for the holidays. He had this thing about girls playing with each other and boys doing their own thing. I begged to differ. I loved playing with the boys."
Alric looked at her sharply when she said that, and she grinned, carrying the food over to the table. "Bon appetit."
"Aren't you going to eat?" Alric asked as she sat down with them.
"No." Arnella shook her head. "No appetite."
Alric cleared his throat. Having Tracy there was preventing him from asking Arnella what was wrong. She was not her usual self. He didn't even know how he knew that something was wrong or what her usual self was; he just knew. He also knew that she had on her armor. He could see that her smiles weren't genuine. They were brittle, as if one little shove in the wrong direction would make her break down crying.
Her eyes looked tired, and behind the laughs and the talk was a sense of unhappiness. He also concluded that Arnella didn't want Tracy to know that she had on this armor. It was a puzzle to him that he was finding it so easy to read her. Maybe when she confessed to him that she was unhappy he had started looking beyond the surface.
"Vanley did a beautiful sermon today," he said aloud, digging into the meal.
"I knew he would," Arnella said wryly. "He has preached to me enough times for met to know that he is a good preacher."
Tracy was watching her, a bitterness twisting her lips. "I can't believe that I didn't know you were his sister. I have known you for seven years and not once did you say anything." Tracy shook her head, "I had a crush on Marcus Bancroft. Remember? You never said he was your cousin."
Arnella laughed. "It's not a big deal. I don't know your extended family, do I?"
Tracy narrowed her eyes. "Really, Arnella? There is nobody interesting in my family. I told you last year that President Bancroft gave me and some other freshmen special attention when he invited us to the president's ball. You never said a word that he was your uncle, even when I was applying up here and I was telling you all about Mount Faith...I can't believe this."
Arnella looked at Alric; his eyes were alight looking from her to Tracy. She smiled at him slightly.
Are you okay? He mouthed to her.
She looked away. She had some very angry and lonely paintings downstairs to prove it. She had gone on a painting spree to vent her emotions.
Alric looked her over. Her paint-spattered blouse was crumbled and she had bits of paint clinging to her hair ends. She still looked beautiful to him though, almost childish. Make up free, piercing free, she was au natural. He felt like rubbing off the splatter of green paint she had on her cheek.
"Want to come back to church with us?" he asked Arnella. Tracy had stopped talking and was sulking beside him. "You look like you could do with the company."
"I am okay," Arnella said. "I don't mind my own company."
"Oh, that's right," Tracy piped in. "You consider yourself to be this creative genius who loves her own company and doesn't have to tell her friend anything."
Arnella winced. She was finding Tracy increasingly annoying by the minute.
Alric got up. "Come on, Tracy. Let's go. Thanks for lunch, Arnella. Tell Charlene that she is a good cook."
"But I want to stay," Tracy said looking at Arnella. "I am pretty sure Arnella doesn't mean me when she says she loves her own company."
Arnella threw a look of desperation to Alric and he laughed inwardly. The dynamics had obviously changed between Arnella and Tracy.
Chapter Nine
"I can't believe that Arnella is living in that house," Tracy said incredulously. "I can't believe it."
Alric looked back at the gate as it closed. "Why is it so hard to believe?" he asked Tracy, who seemed to be fuming.
"She didn't say a word to me that she was related to them. I don't know what to think right now."
"Maybe she didn't want to boast. Not everybody is a name dropper," Alric said softly. "Arnella is a different specie. I'm getting to understand that she's proud, independent, and stubborn."
"Why are you talking as if you like her?" Tracy asked suspiciously. "Remember you told me that she was bad news and I shouldn't be friends wit
h her?"
"I have since rethought that." Alric shrugged. "She is surprisingly different from what I heard about her when we were growing up. Some of the rumors that I heard about her, I have since found to be untrue. I am now wondering if some views I've had about her over the years are untrue as well."
Tracy gasped. "They are true. She is just good at spinning tales to justify herself. Don't listen to her."
Alric frowned. They were nearing the university campus. "I thought you guys were friends. Why the sudden about face?"
"Every guy I introduce Arnella to has always been captivated under her spell except for you. Do you know what she does with guys I like?" Tracy's lip trembled. "She sleeps with them and then she tells me about it. She calls it the Arnella test. She knows that I like you Alric. So if you don't mind being a notch on her bedpost you better watch out."
Alric slowed down at the entrance to Mount Faith; his hand tightened on the steering wheel. "Church or home?" he asked Tracy, processing the information he just heard.
"Home," Tracy said heavily.
Alric drove toward Blue Palm Apartments, his mind ticking over. Arnella and her over zealous sexuality again. Was she that free with her favors? He felt uncomfortably, angry, and bitter. It's as if every time he thought about giving Arnella a chance, he heard awful things about her.
He drove up to the apartment, which was painted in a dark blue with white trimmings and palms artfully arranged near the building.
"So where on the complex do you live?" Tracy asked curiously. "You know, I never see you around here."
Her heart was singing. Alric had looked disgusted when she had told him about Arnella. That was how it should be; how dare him like Arnella? This should have him avoiding her for life. He was a guy of principles. Guys like Alric did not date Arnella. Nobody wanted a whore for a wife.
"I live on block F." Alric put the car in park and looked at Tracy. "You know, something baffles me."
"What?" Tracy asked eagerly, ready to answer any questions about Arnella with more damning information.
"How is it that Arnella sleeps with guys you like and you are still friends with her? Isn't that taking friendship a bit far? I mean..."
"I am still friends with her because I thought she was poor and in need of some sort of support. She doesn't have many friends, you know. I couldn't bear to leave her alone." So, I've forgiven her time and time again. Now I am finding out that she was not as destitute as she made herself out to be. I feel so used."
"How many guys have you introduced to Arnella and she slept with them?" Alric asked, searching Tracy's face for any hint of a lie.
"Six," Tracy said without hesitation. "She's been at it from high school." She shrugged. "Maybe you will be number seven."
Alric sighed. "Not on your life."
Tracy exhaled happily. That was said with such conviction that she was actually giddy with exhilaration. Alric probably hated Arnella very much right now. "Want to come up to my apartment. I am on block A."
Alric shook his head ruefully. "No. I have to do something now." He got out of the car and opened her door. "See you around."
Tracy scrambled out of the car, reluctant to see him leave. "Do you want to go to a party with me tonight? It's a law club thing."
"No." Alric shook his head. "I am spending the night in the library. Final year…no time to even scratch my head. Take care, Tracy."
*****
Alric went to the medical library as soon as it opened at sunset. He had gone to his apartment and tried to reconcile the two Arnella's in his head: the one who was a nymphomaniac and slept with every guy that crossed her path, and the one who seemed unhappy and vulnerable, the one he was unaccountably attracted to. He needed to stop obsessing over Arnella. He couldn't afford to, and didn't want to. She was and would always be bad news for him.
The library was eerily quiet; most persons were not spending their Saturday nights studying. He ran his hand over his face, pulled out his phone, and put it on top of his textbook. Was Tracy really telling the truth about her?
He tapped his fingers on the desk. She slept with six guys and then had the gall to tell Tracy the details. He had doubts about that story, especially the part about him being number seven. Arnella did not act as if she liked him at all, nor did she give him any signals that she was even remotely interested in him. So, what was wrong with him then? The little thought crept into his head and lodged in his mind.
He opened his first-year book on Metabolism. He needed some information for his final project and he needed a refresher from his freshman and junior year courses. He looked through the books trying to get lost in them, but ended up staring balefully at his phone.
He wanted to talk to Arnella. He had taken her number from the first class where the names and numbers of each student were recorded for future reference. Her number was the only one he had memorized. He punched in the numbers reluctantly and was about to hang up after the third ring. What was he doing?
"Hello," Arnella's voice floated through the airwaves and into his ear. He almost hung up.
"It's me," he said simply. "I am in the medical library thinking about you. I don't know why."
Arnella was silent. He was actually tensing up to hear the dial tone in his ear. "I am in the basement painting a picture," she said after a long pause.
"It's Saturday night," Alric said. "This is ridiculous: me in the library, you in your basement."
Arnella chuckled. "What would you be doing if you weren't at the library?"
"That's easy, in my apartment watching this movie I have been dying to see. Have you ever seen Okike's Calling? It's about this young guy from Africa whose dream is to become a doctor, but he's really poor. I saw the preview and liked it."
"No, never seen it." Arnella cleared her throat and then hesitantly asked. "If you have it on DVD you can come watch it with me. Charlene is gone to Micah's place so I am home alone."
Alric could feel his fingers tightening on the phone. Was this a come on? Was he going to see Arnella in action? Was he going to be her next victim? The thought filled him with dread, disappointment, and a curious excitement.
"Okay. I'll be by in thirty minutes." He packed up his books and hurriedly shoved them into his backpack.
*****
He made the journey in twenty-five minutes, and when he drove up the curving driveway he wondered, not for the first time, what kind of mad experiment he was conducting with Arnella. What if she really was the vamp that Tracy insisted she was, did he have the willpower to resist her since he liked her so much?
When she opened the front door, he was fully expecting her to be as unkempt as she was in the morning, but she was in sweat pants and a long sleeved shirt and she had her hair neatly brushed into a ponytail.
"Don't blame me if I sleep on you," Arnella said jokingly when he walked behind her into the living room. "I haven't slept in a while, and I doubt you and I will have the same taste in movies."
Alric cleared his throat. "Well, let's see."
She pointed to the DVD player and he put it in.
"Want something to eat?" Arnella asked.
"No, thanks." Alric studied her features intently." Have you gotten back your appetite yet? Today you said you had no appetite."
Arnella shook her head and sat in the settee. "No. Not back yet."
"What's wrong?" Alric took the remote in his hand and lowered the volume.
"It's nothing much." Arnella swallowed. "I guess I am extra sensitive about something right now. My appetite will come back."
"Or maybe you are pregnant?" Alric said softly. "You know, that is a consequence of sleeping around."
Arnella inhaled sharply. "I don't sleep around, and I am sure I am not pregnant."
Alric swallowed. He wanted to attack her with what Tracy, her closest friend, told him but he just shrugged. "Okay, if you're sure."
"I am sure. Play the DVD," Arnella said, curling up in a ball at one end of the couch. He was sitting at the
other end.
"Do you like me?" he blurted out while the opening credits were going on.
"No," Arnella sniggered. "I have no interest in you whatsoever."
"So, why did you allow me to come over here?" Alric asked, a little spark of rejection hitting him.
"I wanted company," Arnella said, looking at him, "and you were the only one who called me. I was tired of my own thoughts, and I just wanted to talk to someone who wasn't a Bancroft."
"I get you." Alric nodded. "And you are boyfriend-less at this time."
"I have never had a boyfriend." Arnella looked at the screen.
"What? Never?" Alric's eyes widened. "That's unbelievable."
Arnella chuckled. "And flies in the face of everything you think you know about me."
"Well," Alric paused the show, "are you serious?"
Arnella nodded. "Yes, I find the dating ritual to be tedious. Besides, I have never met anybody who was worth losing my head over."
"So how does it work for you? You just say hi to a guy that you like and then have sex with him?" Alric asked slowly, really interested in hearing her answer.
Arnella rubbed her nose and giggled. "I doubt women do that, except as a job."
"Then..." Alric had so many questions in his head about her. They were almost choking him.
"Are we going to watch the movie?" Arnella asked. She clutched the pillow in her arms, and he suddenly wished he were the pillow.
He nodded. "Sure."
They watched the movie, which was a tearjerker. Arnella was sniffing through the whole thing.
"Tell anybody you saw me cry and you are a dead man," she said when the final credits started rolling.
Alric grinned. "With that threat, I won't."
"So what about you?" Arnella asked after a long pause. "Why are you girlfriend-less?"
Alric shrugged. "I have a girlfriend; her name is Medicine."
Sense of Rumor (Mount Faith Series: Book 6) Page 8