Ambitious Affairs

Heat.     It was so muggy and the church air conditioning was on the ritz again.  Sweating even beneath my thin clothed summer dress, I listened to Pastor Brett go on about the crazy weekend he just had and how his truck breaking down had somehow shown him his many blessings.  He was like that, able to turn a personal story into a passionate, quirky sermon full of humor and a shining gratefulness.     I like Pastor Brett, I really do.     Just not in this heat.     “Amor, calm down,” mom said, nudging me.     I guess I’d been tapping my nails on the back of the pew again.  She hates it when I tap my nails.     She was just as hot as me but a proud woman, she’d simply fanned herself with the flyer for the upcoming potluck, refusing to take a seat.  I was pretty sure she desperately needed a seat.     “Mami, can I head outside?” I whispered.     She frowned at me, glancing back toward Pastor Brett who’d only gotten started with his stories and sighed.  “Yes, that’s fine.  I won’t make you stay if you don’t want to.”     “Just this once,” I smiled sweetly, throwing my arms around her.  Mom’s a religious woman through and through but she’s not a pushy one.  Not a judgmental one either.  Dad, however, standing at her other side, gave me a stern look.  Blinking up at him sweetly, I just smiled.  “Daddy, please?”     With a sigh, he grinned, pulling out his wallet.  “Go get something for breakfast along the way,” he whispered, handing me a ten dollar bill.     I grinned, giving him a kiss on the cheek before making my way toward the exit.  Quietly as I could, I noticed the dirty look I was getting from Patricia Rogers and just smirked at her.  She’s only acting uppity because her parents are a bunch of stiffs and would never let her leave early.     Heading out to the main street, I hummed happily, heading to the coffee shop across the street for a bagel.  Sherry was quick to smile at me as she tightened her blue ponytail.  “Hey sugar,” she said, rolling her lip ring with her tongue.  She’d told me it’s an automatic habit for her now.     “Hey Sherry.”  I beamed.      “The regular?” she wondered.     “Yes, pretty please.”        “They let you out early again, huh?” Carter wondered, wiping off their counter.      It was pretty dead in here but it was only nine in the morning.  “Yep.  Slow start?”     “You just missed the rush,” Sherry said.     Carter rolled his eyes.  “Rush.  What?  Four people?”     “We’re a booming business,” Sherry insisted, putting together my mocha frappuccino.     “Right.”  Carter smirked, pulling my bagel from the toaster, slathering a healthy amount of cream cheese onto it.  He knows I love cream cheese.  “So where are you running off to now?”     “I’ll probably go for a walk,” I shrugged.     “Not in the woods again,” Sherry groaned.  “Do Mr. and Ms. Hernandez know you go hiking out there all alone?”     “It’s relaxing,” I said, happily taking the bagel, already taking a bite.  The soft on the inside, crunchy on the inside, and so much cream cheese—it’s like heaven for my tastebuds.  “Plus, nobody’s going to tell them are they?” I pressed, frowning at Sherry as she set the frappe in front of me.     “I’m a lot of things but I’m no snitch,” she said, raising her brows.     Beaming, I pulled her into a tight hug and squeezed me, patting my back.  “You smell so good all the time,” I said, pressing my face to her neck.  She giggled, ticklish, pulling back.     “Careful there, little missy,” Carter said, pointing at me with the spoon he’d been using to stir his coffee.  “If I didn’t know better I’d think you were making a pass at my girlfriend.”     I stuck my tongue out at him playfully and Sherry nudged him, rolling her eyes.     These two have known me since I was really little and it was Sherry who I’d gone to when I’d first felt . . . confused about girls.  I mean, it’s nothing serious.  I still like boys, I think, I just . . . noticed one girl in particular, that’s all.  Carter told me there was nothing wrong with being curious and Sherry had basically told me to follow my heart.  It’s so funny because they’re the most tatted up people I know but they’re much kinder than the pious Rogers family by miles.         “How are things with the crush going?” Sherry wondered, curious.     “Um.”  Blushing, I took another bite of my bagel.     “That great, huh?” Carter wondered, quirking a brow.     Shrugging, I swallowed, taking a swig of frappe.     “Well, sweetie, take your time. You’re only fifteen.  Too young to be worrying about that nonsense anyway,” Sherry said breezily.     “Or just go tell her today,” Carter suggested.  “Carpe diem and all that.”     “Carpe diem?” I wondered.     “Sieze the day,” he said, eyes lighting up his features.     “You can sieze the day at your own pace too,” Sherry said, giving Carter a stern look.  I knew that look.  She was telling him to shut up with her eyes.     “You suggest procrastination?” Carter wondered.     “I’m suggesting pacing one’s self.”     “Pacing never won a race.”     “Actually, you have to pace for a cross country run.”     “Really?  Have you ever watched one of those matches, hon?  It’s kind of—"     I finished up my bagel pretty quick while they bickered back and forth, tossing the plate in the trash.  “Oh, are you leaving already?”  Sherry looked bummed.     “Yeah,” I beamed again, waving.  “I’ll be back soon though, okay?”     “Yes, we love your visits!” she beamed.     “See?  No reason to hold off on confessing to your crush when you’re already such a lady killer,” Carter jibed, winking at me.     “Carter, I already said—”     I headed outside, unable to finish the scolding Sherry was about to give him.     They’re a strange couple but I love them.     Walking along, I noticed it still wasn’t crazy busy out, not too many familiar faces, so I wandered down a familiar street, leading to a cul-de-sac with dense forest surrounding it.  I’d been here numerous times, always during the day, wandering along the same pathway.  Frappe in hand, I took swigs as I walked, glancing about, trying to stay as quiet as possible.     I do like walks in the woods but that’s . . . not why I was here.     Checking my watch, I saw that it was still a little bit early as I headed down the path toward a familiar creak bed.  There’s . . . a reason why I like the girl I like.     I’d probably never really noticed her before the first time I’d stumbled across her in the woods.     We have a couple classes together, actually.     Not a lot since she’s really advanced and all but I do see her three times a day, four if you count lunch, not that she sits with me.  She’s surrounded by her clique and they’re not very social.  I hate to say it but Patricia Rogers is a part of it.     Moving behind a large rock formation, I tucked myself neatly behind it, waiting.     The first time I’d stumbled upon her had been an accident.     Coincidence.     Dumb luck.     And probably a little bit of bad juju.     I’d seen something shiny in the water, strange, and when I veered off of the normal path, I’d fallen.  Literally, ungracefully rolling down the hill, I’d actually run right into this rock formation and busted open my knee.  I’ve always been a bit of a klutz really, a blessing bestowed upon me straight from my parents.  Neither of them were particularly skilled at sports.  Dad was almost more a nerd and mom was always the social butterfly, too busy setting up social gatherings with her friends and family to be interested in those kinds of things.  I always wish they would’ve had an ounce of grace between the two of them to save me from all of the ridiculous disasters I’ve been riddled with since I was just a child.     The breaking of a twig.     I shifted into position, peeking over the rock formation.     It was her.     Addison Electus.     Walking off the path, she lithely moved to the edge of the creak bed, promptly taking a seat on the stump.  I waited, already knowing what comes next.  And she sang.     It was so beautiful . . . ethereal, even.     Such a high note, soft but clear—it wasn’t in English, that’s for sure, but whatever she was singing always caught the attention of the animals nearby.     I could see it, animals peeking out of the shrubs, fish lining the waters edge.     Her dark eyes cast upwards, dark hair falling in perfect waves at her shoulder—her pale skin seemed to glow as the wind blew, long lashes fluttering, full lips parted—     I’d never seen anything so beautiful in my life.     Or felt . . . clutching my chest, it felt the same as it had a month ago.     The first time, in pain, stunned, I’d just stared, open mouthed.  Gaping like a fish.     And now, this would be her fourth performance for me.     I was a one woman audience.  The only one to witness her song.     Biting my lip, I felt goosebumps rush across my skin and wanted to go to her.     It was like a siren’s call.  Alluring.     It’s . . . hard to explain how soothing and exciting it was all at the same time.     And when she finished, I saw that a deer had approached, a few birds, a squirrel, even a beaver.  All standing in a circle around her.  She whispered something and then the animals were giving a song of their own.  Each one speaking simultaneously, calling back to her.     It was like this every time without fail.     She nodded her head, pulling out a notepad, jotting things down now and again.     Was she . . . drawing them, maybe?     I was too far away to see, too far to really hear her soft voice.     It was so strange, whatever she was doing, like something straight out of Snow White.  It seemed like she was almost talking to the animals, as crazy as that seems.  I mean, obviously that couldn’t be the case.  It would be a pretty one-sided conversation.     Thoughtlessly, I’d pressed the straw to my mouth, taking a drink as I thought.     A quiet slurp, the straw scratching the bottom of the cup.     Addison’s head snapped up, dark eyes honing in on me and I ducked quickly, freezing.     There’s no way she heard that from that distance.     There’s no—     “Can I help you?”     Glancing upwards, I realized she was standing on the rock above me, hand on her hips.     Oh—I hopped to my feet from where I’d been crouched behind a rock like a total creeper, wiping at my knees nervously.  “Um, sorry—”     “Why are you here?” she snapped, pursing her lips, eyes narrowing.     Odd.  Her dark eyes flashed emerald.     Licking my lips, I thought it must just be my imagination.  “I was just walking and—”     "You were hiding,” she said, hopping down from the rock, coming nose to nose with me.  “Why?”  Her voice was harsh but she smelled really nice and the proximity—I stumbled backwards, feeling heat rush to my cheeks.  She’s really beautiful, even up close there’s no flaws on her skin.  “You should answer my question,” she hissed, so intense, taking another step forward, in my space, threatening.     I swallowed, averting my eyes.  “Your voice . . . it’s so beautiful,” I said, heart hammering in my chest.  It was hard to focus with her so close to me.     “I . . . oh?”  She looked confused, then kind of flustered.  “So you heard my song?”     I nodded, tugging at my dress nervously.  “I . . . um, I heard it and kind of wandered off the trail I guess and then I saw you and, um, we have . . . class together.”  My voice was getting really small, strained.  God, I was nervous.  I’d never felt so nervous in my life.     “Oh okay,” she said, suddenly less hostile.  Glancing at her, I took in her petite form, wondering how she could possibly beat me up anyway.  I probably had a couple inches and a few pounds on her.  “Well,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest, “this is weird.”     God, she thinks I’m weird now.  “I’m Ki—”     “Kirsten, right?” she said, finishing my thought.     Tucking my hair behind my ear nervously, I nodded.  “Yeah.”     “I’m—”     "Addison,” I finished for her, shuffling my foot.  “You can call me Kiki.  Um, I mean, everybody calls me Kiki.”     She pursed her lips, just staring at me.     It wasn’t . . . very friendly, the way she was looking at me.  I felt like she didn’t want me to be there.  Well, I mean, I guess I was eavesdropping and all so, yeah, it makes sense.     “Um, I should go,” I said, anxious.  “I’ll, uh, see you at school?”     “Yeah,” she said, giving a curt nod.     Uh.  Okay?  Turning my back to her, I wen to take a step when I felt her hand shoot out, latching onto my wrist with a strong grip.  “You didn’t see anything, right?” she asked quietly.     “Like what?” I wondered, feigning ignorance.     She pulled her hand back, crossing her arms back over her chest.  Guarded.  “Nothing.”     “Okay, see you,” I said, giving a small wave over my shoulder as I went.     I tripped climbing back to the path and felt embarrassed until I realized she wasn’t there anymore to see.  Glancing about, I didn’t see her anywhere.  How had she left so quickly?  Shaking off my confusion, I kept going, down the beaten path, headed back toward the cul-de-sac.     That voice.     Kicking at rocks as I walked, I just kept replaying that song in my head over and over.     What a beautiful voice.     Addison is just . . . she’s just so beautiful . . .     And she probably thinks I'm a creep.     Frowning, I kicked at a rock that didn't move, stubbing my toe.     Ow.  Shoot.  Great.     Limping a little as I walked, I muttered, "Carpe diem, my butt."