SWNOVELS Chapter Chapter Three
Chapter Three
Emily sat on one end of her bed, braiding her long, blond hair and watched Karen go through her closet. The two were getting ready to go shopping together with Emily’s mom and Karen wanted an idea of what Emily already had.
The room was white with sponge stencils in soft pinks and yellows. A daybed of white steel sat under a window and had a cover of white with tiny flowers in blue, pink, yellow, and lavender. Pillows and stuffed animals crowded the back and sides of the bed. The windows were open and gauzy curtains lifted lazily when a stray breeze came through them. A white desk and chair sat against the wall opposite of the bed and was cluttered with papers and books on a variety of subjects.
“Emily, damn it, you have such cool clothes. And if I buy any of them everyone will think I’ve copied you.” Karen sighed and sat down at the other end of Emily’s bed. “You even have that long hair that I would kill for.”
Without stopping her fingers, Emily gave Karen what she wanted; reassurance. For all that they had been friends since they were young, Karen still felt threatened by anything or anyone that might jeopardize their friendship. “Karen, why are you putting yourself down? You have gorgeous hair. And you have a face that supports that chic cut. I would look rotten with such short hair.” Emily tied her braid off with a pale pink scrunchy. “Besides, you have one of the best wardrobes in the school. People already think you are fashion model.”
Karen gave Emily a disgusted look, but she was grateful that her friend didn’t mention the new nose, and chin. The reconstructive surgery was done. Karen stood up and paced to the floor length mirror behind the closet door and looked at herself. Two years ago, she wore bandages covering most of her body; they were for the skin grafts. Finally though, her skin was almost flawless thanks to a few visits to the tanning beds.
Emily and Karen had known each other since they first met in kindergarten. At the time, Karen was in the miniature wheelchair with most of her body badly scarred and burned. The teacher had explained to the class that Karen had been in a car accident that killed her parents and she had just gotten out of the hospital after recovering from the massive burns that almost claimed her life. Emily watched as Karen died a thousand deaths over the matter of fact way the teacher told the class. But it didn’t change the way the others in the class saw her; it only made Karen a target for jokes and teasing.
With all the self-righteous wrath of a five year old, Emily stood up and dared the whole class to tease Karen again. Her classmates looked at Emily and backed down. They all knew her older brother, Darin, and none of them wanted to mess with the second grader. After that day, Karen stayed close to Emily out of necessity but that soon became a real friendship as Emily never did anything that wouldn’t allow Karen to participate.
Karen turned from her contemplation of herself in the mirror and looked at Emily. “Okay, so who is the chick you are writing again?”
Emily laughed and reached for a small white envelope with neat, but reserved lettering on it. She opened it and looked at the pastel floral printed stationary, scanning the page for the name.
“Uh...Debra Collins is her name. She’s in high school and wants to be a writer.” Emily looked up as Karen made a rude noise. “Hey...she can’t help her name any more than you or I can. Blame her parents for it. She seems really nice.”
“Are you seriously going to write her back? I mean really, Em, Debra? Couldn’t she be called Debbie or something? Debra sounds so...stuck up.” Karen sat down on the floor and looked up at Emily.
Just then the door opened and two boys plowed into the room. Karen shouted and threw the closest thing she had at them. It just happened to be a pillow that had fallen from the bed, and it hit the shorter of the two, a dead shot in the face. Mike grunted, caught the pillow and threw it back. Karen fell over backwards and came up swearing.
Darin looked at the small war and shrugged, then looked at his sister. “Em, Mom said you were the last one to have the cell phone. I need it. Some of the guys want to hang at the beach and we can’t go without the phone. The folks will freak, as normal, if they can’t get in touch with us.”
“You could have knocked, you ape!” Karen screamed as she kicked out at Mike, missing his knee but hitting his shin. Mike just laughed and got out of the danger zone, rubbing his sore leg. “I hope it leaves an ugly bruise and that none of the girls will even look at you, Mike Jacobson!”
Emily looked from Karen to Mike. In the room full of blonds, Mike was the only one with black hair. And not only was it black, it also had the notorious habit of those with naturally curly hair to look good no matter how tousled it got. Without a word, Emily got up and dug through the papers on her desk and came up with the phone. She held it out for Darin, keeping it just beyond his reach.
“Can Karen and I tag along, Darin?” Emily had to look up to see into his blue eyes, and she really wished her hair was the glossy gold of his, but she was used to her silver blond hair by now.
Darin grinned down at his sister and tweaked her nose, grabbing the phone at the same time. “Nope, this is a guy thing. The only girls we want are those we can pick up on the beach. Sorry, Sis. C’mon, Mike, stop goofing off with Karen and let’s hit the road.”
Mike was just about to leave when he saw the letter from Debra to Emily and snatched it up. He opened it and read it, holding off both Karen and Emily as he did. His dark eyes twinkled mischievously as he read the pastel sheets. “Hey, Darin, you’ve got to hear this. Some chick in . . ., “ he paused to look at the postal seal a moment, then continued. “. . . Washington State, the city is blurred, is gushing about that computer game you and I wrote last summer and sold to that dork up in San Jose.”
“No way, is it a fan letter, for us?” Darin moved over and pushed the indignant Karen aside, ignoring her bellows to the two Neanderthals to get out of Emily’s bedroom this moment. Both boys devoured the letter and kept looking on the backs of the pages, looking for more. “What? We aren’t even mentioned? What kind of fan letter is that?”
Calmly, Emily took the letter from Mike’s hand, folded it neatly and put it back in the envelope. Then she put the letter into a drawer in her vanity and locked it. Her blue eyes were blazing with anger and Darin knew he and Mike had gone just one step too far in their teasing.
“It isn’t a fan letter, and it isn’t to you. Not unless one of you suddenly became an Emily. And since you aren’t taking us to the beach, I will kindly thank you to get the hell out of my room!”
“She sounds really nice.” Darin offered weakly. But when Emily only glared, he grabbed Mike by the scruff of his neck and hauled him out of his sister’s bedroom.
After the boys had gone, Karen looked at Emily. “I don’t know how you do it, Em. How do you keep your temper around them?”
With a knowing smile, Emily held up something. Swinging from her fingers were the keys to Darin’s car and before he could come in again, she slipped them down her shirt and sat back down on the bed and picked up a book feigning innocence. “It’s simple, Karen, they never suspect the calm one.”
Rolling with laughter, Shægnek wondered how she could improve upon this foursome. She thoroughly enjoyed the banter between the assassin and the fool, these two wouldn’t need anything to be totally chaotic and give the First enough headaches to last a lifetime. She bit her lip though as she thought about it, Chaos didn’t like to have competition, and these two were definitely that. “Oh well,” she thought, “Chaos can’t always have his way.”
She tapped the chisel against the tiny flaw in the marble, carefully breaking away the unwanted piece. Her thoughts moved to the one who was wisdom. Shægnek hadn’t ever thought of wisdom as having humor, and yet, this one was just as cunning as the assassin in her own ways. She would have to work on that problem; she didn’t want too many surprises coming from the dark to catch her off guard. It didn’t matter if the other gods were shocked, but Shægnek took a certain pride in being able to always know what was coming. Otherwise, why be a goddess of fate and whimsy?
Slipping her mind, in her speculation over wisdom, the fourth went without scrutiny. But another saw him and smiled a slow smile. This one would be the tripping stone for the First, the one who could blind side her. But this one didn’t know what Shægnek had already done to the First, so his little bump to her sculpture helped more than hindered.