Behind the Eight Ball

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Chapter 2 - Time for a talk

I found her easily as Brynn stands out in a crowd even if said crowd was a sea of khaki and navy blue. She always sat by the same tree in the courtyard her nose in a book or drawing in her sketchpad.

For a moment, I just stood and observed her from a safe distance away. This time she had out her sketchpad, a pencil case rested at her left and her bag to the right. She sat cross-legged and seemed very intent on whatever she was working on.

It struck me how many people walked right by her, never even glancing down to be sure they don't tread on her. No one did, but it was like she were invisible to the rest of the world with some sort of force field that kept others from accidentally invading her space. If that was even possible which it wasn't but again. Weird.

Well enough watching. I want answers. Storming right up to her, I stand there for way longer then would be required for my presence to be acknowledged normally. I stand, when not slouching over six foot four inches tall people usually notice when I step into a room or in this case their space, but not Brynn. Eventually she holds up a finger while still sketching with the other hand.

Again I just look upon her in disbelief. "Are you kidding me?" I say after enough time has passed that something ought to have been said.

She only shook the finger she had held up and held it slightly higher.

"Okay... done." She states, finally shutting her sketchpad and putting it back in her bag.

She looked up at me, which in her position sitting by the tree proved rather difficult. Brynn is rather short in stature, her neck craned back so far I thought it might snap and so I took a step back to allow her a better view.

She pushed her glasses up on the bridge of her nose and smiled at me.

"Oh, it's you. Can I help you?"

"Are you freaking kidding me?" I said wanting to use much stronger language but I couldn't bring myself to do so, damn my upbringing.

Again, her brow arched and she had the most perplexed look on her face. "Sorry?"

"You should be!" I bark at her.

She didn't even bat an eye. Instead incredulously holds her hand out for me to help her up, and me the dork that I am actually help her. After taking a moment to collect her belongings and brush off her skirt she just stood there looking up at me.

My blood began to boil in my veins. Seriously, she was going to just stand there and look at me. "No. Sorry about that. I was in a playful mood this morning. Didn't mean any harm...nothing?"

Losing my cool, I begin spewing out my anger all over the place.

"What the hell, Brynn!? What was this..." I say holding my hands in a heart over my chest, "about? Really? You literally blew me off this morning. You couldn't tell the bus drive to wait up? I was like a half a block away."

Now I'm fuming. My chest is rising and falling as heavily as if I just took a few laps around the court. She still has that perplexed look on her face and I find it infuriating. And after a long pause she says...

"You know my name."

She says this like the information somehow surprises her.

How does she keep doing that? How does she keep throwing me off guard? I look down at her in astonishment. "Yes, Brynn we've been in the same school, since kindergarten."

She shakes her head no and now sports a frowny face. Indicating that what I just said, for some reason, was not sound logic. Then I watch her grab the next person who walks by us. His name was John or Joe or something like that. And she says, "Jason, what's my name?"

Jason just looks at her like she were some crazy person who has just took hold of his wrist and made a face at her, "How the hell should I know, freak?"

"Hey!" For some reason I wanted to punch that Joe, Jason whatever the hell his name was right in the face. "That's uncalled for."

He shrugs. Not even having the decency to apologize. Brynn just smiles and releases him, letting him continue on his way.

"Jason Styles. Also in our Kindergarten class." She adds with a nod of her head beaming happily now that she has just proven her point. And then she starts to walk away.

"Hold up!" I am now literally blocking her way like she was a player on the opposing team, flailing my arms at my sides in case she makes a move to get past me, but she just stood there.

"That still doesn't explain why you blew me off this morning." I'm more irritated than ever.

"Not my fault."

Okay, of all the things she should have or could have said, that wasn't what I was expecting. I'm starting to see a pattern here.

"Not your fault," I reiterate slowly just in the off chance I miss heard her. "Who's fault is it then? Did the crazy voices in your head decide to come out and play?" Okay, that was harsh but I'm angry damn it.

She scrunches up her face, the look very reminiscent of the way my Mom looks at me when I lose my temper and say something stupid. "No, it was the eight ball."

Okay again with the "What the... (Insert expletive I am not going to say here.)"

Before the words can pass my lips she holds up her key chain. On it dangles a variety of charms and among them I spy a Magic Eight Ball.

"I asked if I should hold the bus for you but I'm afraid the answer was "My Reply is No." So,..."

She adds this little shrug of her shoulder and a flick of her hands as if to demonstrate by her body language that all this makes perfect sense and I am somehow the unreasonable one.


Edited: 16.11.2019

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