Columbine

“Why is your closet still untouched?” Sarah asked me rudely. “It’s a got Armani and you don’t even care?”

“It’s got who?” I asked her.

Her eyes bugged out of her head. I grinned maliciously, plumping up the pillows on my bed as an extra touch.

“I don’t believe you don’t know what Armani is.” Sarah said, sitting down on my newly-made bed just as it was on the brink of perfect. The blanket went askew and my hands clenched into very eager fists.

I ignored them and bent down and gathered my wrinkled clothes from the floor. I shoved them back onto the chair that they’d been sitting on before an earthquake had forced them off.

“I know you’re a tomboy, and all…” Sarah winced, almost like the word “tomboy” was a bad one, “But you’re eighteen already!”

“Seventeen.” I growled. I hated it when people got my age wrong.

“When is your birthday, anyway?” Sarah asked. I blinked.

I realized with gargantuan shame that I had forgotten that my birthday was tomorrow. This was bad.

“In January.” I lied.

Was I crazy to not want people to know that my birthday was coming up? Maybe. I knew that I was definitely in the minority as far as celebrating birthdays went. If I thought hard, I could just barely see the memory of a birthday party from when I’d turned four. My parents had taken me to a French restaurant, given the intellectuals that they were. I’d puked up onion soup in the car on the way home.

“Mine’s in December.” Sarah practically boasted.

“Wow.” I mimed.

“I’m going to get water.” Sarah got off of my bed, revealing a butt-shaped wrinkle on the blanket that had taken me so long to smooth. “You want any?”

“Sure.” I nodded.

I was almost relieved when she skipped out of my room. Having bared all her frustrations to me, her mood had improved significantly. Her good mood was almost worse than her bad one. When she was cheerful, she was prone to give me advice. Having decided to be generally polite to people who had labeled themselves my friends, I couldn’t tell her where to shove it.

“Hello?” I new voice suddenly yelled from out in the hall. “Is anyone here!”

I nearly screamed when the door of my room was practically torn from its hinges and a sweaty, breathless Valentin stormed violently into my room with a frantic expression on his face.

“Columbine, are you here?” He yelled.

I’d been crouched on the floor, picking up debris that had come from the ceiling, so he didn’t see me right away. I cautiously stood up, a little nervous to see him after the Halloween incident, with the fireworks, and the music, and the good moods. In short, it had been nothing like we were used to.

He saw me and relief filled his face. “Thank god.” He sighed.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, not having expected to see him again before the week was out. “Aren’t you supposed to be distracting the agents?”

“They’re busy.” He breathed, coming up to me. “I had to know if you were alright.”

His hands landed on my shoulders and I instinctively flinched. He didn’t seem to care at that moment, because before I knew what to expect, his arms were around me and my nose suddenly bumped into his chest. I stopped breathing when I realized that I was receiving a hug.

“As far as earthquakes are concerned,” He said into my hair, “That one should have killed you.”

“T-thanks?” I said, not sure if it was a compliment or not. To tell the truth, my brain seemed to have shut down because of the hug. He was so huge that I couldn’t see beyond his torso. Even through the Demataxt uniform that he was wearing, I could feel the muscles in his arms. It was almost too much to take in at once.

For one thing, the seemingly random amount of trust that I’d gained for him had overpowered a small part of my fear of him, but there was still a great deal of mistrust on my part. On the other hand, I’d never been hugged like this before.

The most affection that I’d ever gotten from a hug in my life was when my grandmother tucked me in at night when I’d been twelve or so. This was something entirely different. This was no relative giving me a squeeze before bedtime.

I was almost disappointed when Valentin finally let me go. When I realized that I was disappointed, I could feel my face turn furiously red.

“How is everyone else?” He asked.

“Th-They’re fine.” I stuttered. “Sarah did a pretty good job keeping us safe.” A little too good, what with the dark space she’d banished us to, but I didn’t say that. It had all been for the best, really.

“And Scarlett?” Valentin winced. “How’s she taking the damage?”

So he’d noticed the huge hole in the ceiling.

“I’m not sure.” I admitted. “She was crying earlier, but we’re going to try putting barriers up.”

Valentin nodded. We realized that we had officially run out of things to talk about. Now there was just the awkward silence to get through. I bent down again to continue cleaning up chunks of plaster from the floor. Flakes stayed stuck on the carpet despite the intensity with which I tried to get them off. I missed vacuum cleaners with the outmost passion at that moment.

“You want any help?” Valentin offered. I shook my head.

“You should probably go back to work.” I said. “Before they get suspicious.”

“I don’t think that’s probable.” He said.

I looked up, noticed that he looked infuriatingly good towering over me, and quickly focused back on the flakes of plaster on the carpet. It wasn’t fair. Furthermore, it made no sense. Good-looking people like him weren’t supposed to care about people like me. It mad me feel like I wasn’t doing enough, and I hated it.

“The volunteers they have looking for you and Sarah aren’t very powerful. You two could probably take them on.” He said. It didn’t escape me that he’d said ‘you two’, like I could in any way save myself from a mage.

“Liar.” I told him, not daring to look up.

“Why do you say that?” He asked, crouching down to my level. I still didn’t look at him.

“Are you joking?” I asked. “I’m human. They’re not.”

He sighed, much in the same way Sarah had sighed when she’d tried to explain to me that Valentin really was an honest person. Like I was a small, stupid child. My teeth clenched involuntarily.

“That doesn’t mean you’re powerless.” He explained. “Sarah told me that it was you who saved her when she was attacked in her store.”

“And then I almost got killed.” I reminded him.

He sighed again. Damn, that was annoying.

“You’re brave.” He said. “That’s what matters most.”

I felt my face turn red again. Apparently I was a sucker for flattery, and it was going to be my downfall if I let my love of compliments go unabated.

“Shut up.” I growled. He chuckled, clearly hearing the mortification in my voice.

At this point, Sarah walked in holding two bottles of water. She stopped when she saw Valentin sitting beside me as I picked up chunks of ceiling from the floor.

“Well, what do you know!” She exclaimed. “I didn’t know I should have brought three bottles.”

“Hello, Sarah.” Valentin smiled. “Don’t worry about the water, I’ll be going soon.”
“Did Columbine scare you off again?” Sarah asked teasingly. The rocks of plaster in my hands suddenly held great potential. If only I could aim them right…

“Not at all.” Valentin assured her. “I only stopped by to see if you were all alright.”

“We’re fine.” Sarah said.

“Good.” Valentin stood up. “I’m afraid I have to go now. Take care.”

And with that he was gone as swiftly as he’d torn into my room.

Sarah closed the door and looked at me with what must have been a physically demanding smile. I hadn’t though that somebody’s face could be that durable.

“See?” She squeaked. “I told you he loves you!”

“You never said that!” I yelled. I was blushing again.

“No, this proves it.” Sarah did a frighteningly hyper dance, enthusiastically punching the air with a woot. “He came to see you first, which must mean that he cares about you most!”

I didn’t dare tell her about the hug. I knew that if I did, it would be the death of me and any chance at a platonic relationship with Valentin. The mere notion of him loving me provoked a particularly violent urge to gag.

Furthermore, I couldn’t seem to shake the notion like I could shake all the others that were bothersome to me. This was what made me want to gag even more. First the civility on Halloween, then the hug just then, and now Sarah listing all possible evidence that Valentin was in love with me. It didn’t feel good at all.

“What’s wrong?” Sarah asked me, having seen the sour expression on my face.

“Stop digging for hidden feelings.” I advised her. “You won’t find any in me, anyway.”

Nothing could have been more true. I hated him -- true I’d hated him a little less lately -- but a couple of days couldn’t hold a candle to the years and years during which I’d despised him.

I’d glared at all the tabloids he’d appeared on back when we’d been in school. I’d even hated all the people he’d been associated with. Most of them had hated me before we’d even started puberty, and had grown to hate me even more when I’d made my pathetic attempt to beat Valentin up in the hallway.

Now that I thought about it, he’d been my main reason for leaving Washington after I’d been let out of the mental hospital. If I’d stayed and gone to the university, I knew that I’d probably have run into him in the halls. It would have been just like old times, and I hadn’t wanted that. I hadn’t wanted to stay in a major Demataxt nest, either.

But here I was, in the new, biggest Demataxt nest of them all. If there was a girl even less lucky than I was as far as hideouts went, I wanted to meet her. I’d come to Egypt specifically to get away, and now it was like the final frontier for the mages. I knew there was a reason that I’d never liked cowboy movies.

“I know you’re not really that tough.” Sarah said condescendingly. “It’s all just an instinct to keep from getting hurt.”

There was that word again -- instinct. Was instinct such a bad thing? It had definitely saved more people than it had hurt. Discounting me from that statistic, of course. Apparently my instinct was to drive people the hell away using any and all methods necessary. It worked as long as people weren’t prone to pry into my life -- namely Sarah and Valentin. I didn’t know who was nosier out of the two.

“So?” Sarah continued. “Is there any chance you love him back?”

“No.” I snapped. “And he doesn’t love me to begin with.”

This discussion was embarrassing to the point of pain. I chugged my water in the hopes of creating a diversion. The diversion ended too soon when I ran out of water.

“You sure about that?” Sarah pressed.

“Positive.” I snapped again.

“Well, I’m not.” Sarah said proudly. “And I’ve got woman’s intuition to back it up.”

I smirked. The way Sarah looked like an overgrown adolescent made it hard to take her seriously, but her words still made me queasy enough to notice it.

“Whatever.” I sighed.

I sat down on my bed next to her, having finally cleaned up my room. It still looked like it had survived an earthquake, but at least the bookshelf was back against the wall and the carpet was free of plaster. I wondered briefly if I could have made a career as a janitor. It made an odd kind of sense that if I’d taken crap for most of my life, I would have picked it up just as efficiently.

“What do you think’s going to happen?” I asked. I was mostly asking the wall, but Sarah decided to answer the question anyway.

“With the world, you mean?” She asked mournfully. “Most of it’s happened already.”

“Does that mean there’s no time left?” I asked.

“Time for what?” Sarah asked.

By the time I realized what I’d meant by that question, it was too late to back down.

“Time to stop it somehow.” I said.

“How did you expect to do that?” Sarah asked.

“I’m not sure.” I said. “I had this idea that we could maybe do something like we did on Halloween, only more permanent.”

“A dance club, you mean.” Sarah finished for me. “I remember.”

I sat perfectly still, waiting to be shot down.

“I think it’s a great idea.” Sarah chirped, shocking me more than I would have expected.

“Huh?” I asked.

“It’s a prefect idea, even!” She continued. “People love dance clubs, especially with a bar and a stage. Like I said, perfect.”

She gave me a hefty pat on the back and jumped up from the bed. There was a big enough amount of spirit in her smile-crinkled eyes to have qualified her as a cheerleader. I shoved the painful thought away, finding the image of Sarah in a short skirt waving pompoms a little too fitting.

“You really think so?” I gaped. “You’re not worried that the Demataxt will find us?”

“To hell with the Demataxt!” Sarah said with passion. “I don’t want to live in hiding all my life, and I know you don’t, either.”

She had a point there. Had I been the one to plant this seed of freedom in her head when I’d forced her to come to the marketplace with me? Maybe. Even so, she was right. If I was already a wanted criminal, there was really no point in following the rules anymore. Either way I was condemned.

“Shoot,” I choked, “Let’s fucking do it.”

My tone held very little resolve, but I meant what I said.

Now that Sarah and I were both in favor of starting a dance club, there was the small matter of convincing everybody else that it was a good idea. I had a feeling that Charlie wouldn’t be difficult to persuade at all. He’d been a strong supporter of the Halloween incident, and would undoubtedly support this decision, as well.

I had a feeling that Scarlett would rather die than let anything else happen to her beloved lab. Who could blame her? It was her home and had undoubtedly been her life before the New Era had started. The closet filled with clothes in my room proved that probably many people had lived here for a number of years. Why else would somebody bring a cocktail dress to her workplace?

And then there was the big fiend, Valentin.

I didn’t know exactly how he would react, but I had a general idea. Raised voices and violent arm gestures would no doubt be involved. I didn’t bother thinking about it further. I knew that if I just stood my ground, he’d break down eventually.

All in all, Scarlett was going to be the toughest nut to crack.

Later that day, I was left to confront Charlie by myself. Sarah was still fuming over the utterly idiotic things he had said to her, but had managed to recognize how beneficial he would be to our scheme.

I found him sitting in the library, glaring down at a science textbook with more eminence than the author had probably intended to provoke in the reader. I wondered if it was any harder to convince an angry person than a calm one. Hopefully if the idea was a good one -- which I knew it was -- then the person’s mood would be irrelevant.

I walked into the library and approached Charlie as cautiously as I could. If somebody’s expression had ever looked exactly like a bubbling volcano, his expression now did just that.

“Hi, Charlie.” I said. I wasn’t good at appearing innocent, and Charlie saw through me at once.

“What’s she want?” He grumbled, meaning Sarah. My fake smile fell a little.

“Nothing.” I said, then remembered that it wasn’t true. “Well, we both sort of had this idea…”

He already looked bored. I didn’t know if he was acting or if he really wasn’t interested. I found it strange that he’d ignore me if I said that I’d had an idea. After all, the last time that had happened, we’d all had a boatload of thrills.

“We thought we’d maybe…” I swallowed hard, “Maybe turn the lab into a dance club.”

He looked up at this. He even sat up and turned his whole body in my direction.

“You’re serious?” He asked, clearly interested at this point.

“Deadly.” I nodded. “I've never been more serious than now.”

Charlie slammed the textbook shut. I winced, having taken that as a sign that he was mad. But when I looked more closely at his face, I saw that he was smiling. My heartbeat quickened with victory.

“Well, it’s about time!” He said, and jumped up out of his chair. Like most guys, he towered over me. But at that moment, I didn’t much care about the unfair difference in our height ratio. I was much too pleased that I won him over to my side.

“You sound like you were expecting this.” I said.

“Of course I was.” He smirked. “What else are you going to do with a bunch of music that comes out of your body?”

I felt my face turn red, but I knew he was right.

It had only been a matter of time until this became inevitable. And, really, what else could you do with a bucket-full of musical blood? Except play it as loud as possible, that is?