Status: Don't expect a resolution; it's not going to happen.
Cheat
IF IT BRINGS ME TO MY KNEES
A girl with the face that reminds me strikingly of a fox enters the room, her short hair plaited in a crown around her hairline. Something about her features is elongated, but not in an unattractive way, but perhaps in an unusual way. Instantly, my skin crawls, my intuition telling me something about this girl is just not right. Her eyes immediately center on me, bright and sharp.
“I’ve never met you before.”
I stand up to extend my hand, even though I feel like she may bite it when presented to her. She proves civilized, however – taking it in her grasp and shaking it firmly.
“Cath,” I introduce politely. Her breath is hot and smells like she just ate a slice of decadent cake or drank a teaspoon of vanilla.
“Claire,” she replies, all smiles and handshakes. I withdraw my hand from her forcefully, because it seems she won’t let go. Something about her makes me feel heavier on one side, like someone placed a sand bag on my shoulder to weigh me down. The way she’s looking at me makes me feel uncomfortable, claustrophobic, under surveillance.
“You’re Reed’s girlfriend, right?” she asks, and I nod in response. “Great. Any friend of Reed’s is a friend of mine. I think I’ll like you, Cath.”
It’s funny because I can already tell that I don’t like this Claire, I don’t like her one bit. Not her beady little eyes, not her false front tooth, not the way she says my name. She looks at Sam and bats her eyelashes and I like her even less.
“I’ve never met you before.”
I stand up to extend my hand, even though I feel like she may bite it when presented to her. She proves civilized, however – taking it in her grasp and shaking it firmly.
“Cath,” I introduce politely. Her breath is hot and smells like she just ate a slice of decadent cake or drank a teaspoon of vanilla.
“Claire,” she replies, all smiles and handshakes. I withdraw my hand from her forcefully, because it seems she won’t let go. Something about her makes me feel heavier on one side, like someone placed a sand bag on my shoulder to weigh me down. The way she’s looking at me makes me feel uncomfortable, claustrophobic, under surveillance.
“You’re Reed’s girlfriend, right?” she asks, and I nod in response. “Great. Any friend of Reed’s is a friend of mine. I think I’ll like you, Cath.”
It’s funny because I can already tell that I don’t like this Claire, I don’t like her one bit. Not her beady little eyes, not her false front tooth, not the way she says my name. She looks at Sam and bats her eyelashes and I like her even less.