A. H. Wong

Chapter Eleven

 

April 6th, 2012

 

Noon

 

"Janelle? Hey. I-I just wanted to say I'm sorry for how...for how I reacted earlier. I didn't mean to freak out on you, or hurt you. I just....I just was surprised," Beatrix stammers out, taking a seat beside the black-dressed girl. Feeling terribly out of place next to the creature of lace, Beatrix looks awkwardly down at her customary hoodie. She really should start dressing better, now that Martin and she were official.

 

Janelle turns her head slowly, looking at her. A cat, sizing up her prey before devouring it. Showing her teeth, Janelle smiles widely. "I forgive you, love. Don't worry in the slightest bit about it—it was, after all, myself who did something wrong. I didn't mean to hurt you, nor did I mean to scare you. Can we be friends again, babycheeks?"

 

"I-I....Yeah, yeah of course we can. I've been missing having more people to talk to."

 

Janelle wags her perfectly-sculpted eyebrows at her. "Oh? What about Martin? Aren't you and he basically a thing now?"

 

Beatrix blushes hard, squriming softly in her chair. "Y-Yeah, yeah we are....I-I just like having more than him, you know? I mean....Before....Before, you and I were kinda starting to be friends. B-But that...didn't really pan out, so I....Uh...."

 

Janelle laughs softly, her violet-contact eyes rolling skywaard. "You're such a dear! I can't believe how sweet you are, little love. I really can't."

 

"I-I'm not sweet, though. I'm just...."

 

"Just cute, and awkward, and oooohhhh.....I could just eat you right up. In fact, one day I might...."

 

A cough sounds, bringing Beatrix careening right back into the reality of the situation. She had just taken a seat beside Janelle at the Plucked Feather table, still feeling faintly uneased in the same room where her horrible nightmare had taken place. At the table she was sitting at, Maverick also sat—and she was not at all pleased about the flirtations that were beginning between Janelle and herself. Hurrying to save face, Beatrix scurries to say, "I-I'm sorry, Maverick. I'm so, so sorry. I don't want to flirt with Janelle, I really don't. I just don't want to be lonely anymore. Please, Maverick....Please forgive me? I-I just need....I just need more friends."

 

Leslie broke in, her disgust plain in her voice. "Ugh, Beatrix, you're such a whiner. Why don't you just accept that you're never going to have any friends, and just be a slut like Janelle?"

 

Maverick bristles beside Leslie, turning to glare at the girl. Before anyone else at the table can react, they had erupted into shouts and howls. Punches are thrown quickly, and a repeat of the food fight seems imminent.

 

Looking around desperately, Beatrix spots an unlikely savior. Leaping to her feet, Beatrix charges towards Taylor, grabbing his hand. "Taylor, Taylor....Please! I need you to get Janelle and Maverick back together."

 

Wishing she could understand exactly why he looked so frustrated, Taylor allowed himself to be dragged back towards the table. Before he made it half the distance, he could hear the fighting. It was mainly focused between Maverick and Leslie, but he could also hear Janelle's voice breaking in every now and then.

 

This was going to be a fun, fun lunch break.

 

If only he had stayed to eat in his office....

 

Sighing to himself, he approaches the table. He raises his eyebrows, and his mere presence causes complete silence at the table. A quote from Lily rises in his mind: "You are a man of force, Taylor. You force us into silence."

 

"What, praytell, is going on here?" Taylor asks, his voice cutting into the silence.

 

"They're fighting. I need you to stop them f-fighting. Please. Please, please, please...." Beatrix begs him, her hand squeezing Taylor's tighter.

 

Realizing he was still holding it, he drops it smoothly, sliding his arms across his chest. Hoping no one questions him, he eyes the entire table. He waits, patiently, before he begins to tap his left foot on the floor. Fixing Maverick's gaze with his own, he raises his eyebrows higher yet.

 

She groans softly. "Look. Leslie just pissed me off, okay? She called 

Janelle a slut, and Janelle isn't a slut....She isn't. She's just....Just Janelle."

 

Janelle looked at her quietly, blinking. "D-Does that mean you...."

 

"Oh, shit, no. Baby, I'm still mad at you. Does that mean I'm not going to stand up for you? Nah. Not a chance." Maverick looks at her, trying to sound upbeat. She quickly looks away, though, when she sees pain flicker across her former lover's face.

 

Janelle lowers her head to the ground, gazing at her shoes. "Taylor, I-I....I know you want to set Maverick and I back up. I know that's probably the real reason why you agreed to come here, and not because Beatrix was holding your hand. But....I really have to say that I don't feel we're ready for it yet."

 

Taylor nods, giving her a small smile. "I definitely understand, Janelle. And, I was not coming here to force the issue. I just came because Beatrix here asked me to," he responds, gesturing at Beatrix. 

She flushes faintly in response.

 

Just as Taylor is about to turn and confront Leslie, he finds himself being tapped on his left shoulder from behind. Taylor rotates, his eyebrows narrowing as he comes face-to-face with, naturally, Martin.

 

Martin doesn't look happy. "Why was she holding hands with you?"

 

"To bring me over here so I could stop a fight, which I did. She had no ulterior motives, nor did I," Taylor responds coolly. "I appreciate the amount of care you are putting into your relationship with her, truly, but I cannot help but feel that you are simply too controlling."

 

Martin didn't even bother to respond, and merely grabbed at his girlfriend's hand and drew her away.

 

Beatrix didn't even bother struggling, but she did shoot Taylor a look that told him all he needed to know.

 

Sighing to himself, Taylor turns back to the group, and begins laying the foundations for a better set of friendships.

 

<3 <3 <3 </3

 

Ten Minutes Later

 

"I don't understand."

 

"Neither do I."

 

"Is class SUPPOSED to be this hard?" Martin says, leaning back against the wall. The pair of them were stretched out on Beatrix' bed, staring down at the books surrounding them. As they shared most of the same classes, they were working together—or, at least, were trying to. The discovery that neither of them were doing well was not a welcome one.

 

"I don't think so. I guess we're just stupid...." Beatrix whines, closing her eyes tight. She was going insane—she wasn't used to feeling so very...unsuccessful.

 

Martin poked her in the side, grinning. "Well, you're smarter than me, at least. I guess this just means we'll have to work harder. A lot harder.

 

She rolls her eyes at him. "You're just trying to make up for being a dick to Taylor earlier."

 

Martin lets out a groan, shaking his head. "Taylor, Taylor, Taylor. It's all Taylor. Taylor this, Taylor that. You're ALWAYS on his side, never on mine."

 

Beatrix groans inwardly. She definitely should have known that this would happen—even mentioning the name 'Taylor' lately had been sparking a massive fight. "Well, I'm sorry. Can we just get back to work?"

 

Martin nodded after a while. "Yeah....I guess. I think I'm glad that we're working together on EVERY project in EVERY class we share."

She laughs a bit. "Definitely makes finding partners a lot easier."

 

He nods, before leaning over to kiss her. "It also means better treats when we finish work...."

 

She laughs hard, pushing him away, "You butt! I'm not in the mood."

 

He winks at her, murmuring playfully into her ear. "I could get you in the mood...."

 

Her fist lands in his chest before she can blink, her heart racing a tiny bit. "I-I'm sorry. I just....You just sounded threatening, I'm sorry...."

 

Coughing a tiny bit, he smiles at her. "No, no....It's okay. You're right. 

We should....We should get back to work."

 

Feeling thankful, she opens up a book, and starts work.