The Crimson Hunt

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The Crimson Hunt Page 4

by Smith, Victoria H.


  Piper really did always know how to say the right thing. “No, and must you be so subtle all the time?”

  I didn’t blame her, though. I couldn’t honestly say the suggestive thoughts didn’t cross my mind a few moments before his non-verbal attack on me.

  “I accidentally bumped into him in the hall, and he was a complete jerk about it. I dropped my papers all over the hallway and tried to apologize, but he just wrote me off and came in here. He didn’t even offer to help me pick up my notes.” I tried hard not to sound like a whiny baby, but my feelings were hurt, dammit.

  Piper’s near-carnal look changed to that of sympathy. “God, what a douchebag. I’m sorry, A. I didn’t mean to have my head so far in the gutter. Don’t let that guy get under your skin. He’s just an asshole like the rest of them.”

  She brought out her makeup bag and tried to reconstruct the damage of my face.

  As she worked, I grabbed for my necklace again, but its continued absence reminded me of how truly alone I was.

  “Everyone put all your materials away. I don’t think I need to remind any of you of the consequences of cheating.” Professor James spoke from the front of the class.

  I put away all my materials but a pen, my thoughts frazzled beyond the point of concentration.

  Chapter Three

  I pushed around the noodles in my soup, not that it mattered much. No amount of motion could keep the face of the gorgeous asshole from materializing in my lunch. I can’t believe I let him get to me so much that I bombed my test. There’s no way I passed with all those wrong answers I gave today.

  “Are you finished with that, ma’am?” asked a spiky, green-haired waitress with a hoop in her nose.

  The dress code for Demitasse Café must be rocker-chick casual.

  Giving up on any possible chance of nourishment for the day, I pushed the bowl toward her. She picked it up and bumped into a table of overly-enthused football players on her way to the counter. The guys at the table cheered about a test they didn’t have to take because the professor understood their busy schedules. I had to listen to that crap for the last hour. I scowled in their direction. It must be nice to have things handed to you on a silver platter every day.

  Sighing, I scraped my spoon against the mosaic tiles of the table. Today, the design was an interesting Van Gogh.

  “So are you excited about the big trip?” Piper nudged me with her arm.

  Normally, I’d be all shines and smiles about heading up to the cabin at the lake. My friends and I booked the place annually to celebrate the end of our approaching midterms, and the trip also doubled as my birthday bash since it usually fell during the same weekend. I wasn’t in the mood to think about such things at the moment, though. I was too busy calculating if I could possibly pass Zoology with the remaining assignments left in the semester. I decided to humor her anyway. She was clearly trying to take my mind off things.

  “Yeah. It will be fun. Do you think maybe we could invite Blaine this year?” I was making quick work on my promise to hook them up on a date. Not that I minded the favor. Blaine was a good guy.

  Piper scoffed. “Jeez, Ariel. Would you lay off about that corn-fed hick? I’ve told you, and I’ve told him a million times that I am not interested. If you like him so much why don’t you date him?” She took a bite of her Cobb salad.

  “Pipe, you know it’s not like that. And he’s not a corn-fed hick. He’s just from the South, you know, a gentlemen? Or is that such a foreign concept to you: a datable guy who isn’t a roadie?” It seemed like Piper was always into those types of guys. She went nuts whenever we attended a weekend concert at Demitasse. I didn’t know how many guys had come through our dorm room over the years. Playing at Demitasse may as well have been a one-way ticket to Piper’s bedroom. Thank the Lord for strong walls, that’s all I had to say. “And what’s your deal with him anyway? He’s never been anything but nice to you.”

  She opened her mouth.

  I lifted my hand, silencing her before she could respond. I really didn’t feel like hearing her bad mouth Blaine. He was nice and deserved a chance. I decided to take matters into my own hands. “You know what? I’m going to invite him. He’s a great guy, and you need a switch from your usual scumbags. It’s like you go out of your way to find guys who treat you badly.”

  Piper rolled eyes. “You can get off your soapbox now.” She fumbled her fork around in her salad.

  Her words sounded like she couldn’t have cared less about what I said, but the way her eyes shifted as she picked at her salad told me I’d hit a nerve. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything.

  She put her fork down in a huff. “Speaking of guys, it’s been a while since I’ve seen you bring one around. Maybe you should back off my love life and start working on your own.”

  Guilt now gone. I stood up and glowered down at her. “I’m going to go grab some dessert and a refill.” I didn’t feel like dealing with her attitude today. I had enough on my plate as it was.

  I walked over to the dessert case in front of a short cashier who looked like she’d rather be doing calculus than working. I placed my cup on the counter, signaling the barista behind her to fill the cup with hot water. The cashier scowled at me, clearly wanting something to do.

  Ah yes, we’re real chummy today. I let a chick in a red blazer and two of her friends go ahead of me to give me more time. That got the cashier off my back as she rang up their order.

  They had a nice little spread in the case today, but I opted for my usual brownie. I reached in for my treat of choice when I felt someone brush my right arm.

  I glanced up, and froze. My heart raced as my gaze collided with his, the same striking green-gray eyes. My legs buckled at the knees, and I had to slap my hand down on the counter to stay upright. I managed to stabilize myself and look up at him again.

  Seeing my eyes, he tensed and his gaze slid away. He stared directly ahead of him like I wasn’t there.

  I wanted to tell him off. I wanted to shake him and ask him why I was so unimportant that he couldn’t even recognize me or apologize for bumping into me. So, what did I do?

  “Hi,” I said, giving him a wobbly smile.

  He pursed his lips, keeping his gaze ahead of him in silence.

  My speech continued to be driven by the tingling heated spot where he touched my arm. “Remember me? The girl who crashed into you today before class.”

  Still nothing from him.

  My body shook, my emotions stirred, and my voice fought to spill out involuntarily from my vocal chords because for some stupid reason I had to hear his stupid voice. “My name’s Ariel. I-I’m really sorry about what happened earlier, I—”

  His eyes shifted and his gaze panned my way. His view was low at first, but then he scanned up and his eyes connected with mine.

  I swallowed hard, losing my breath as I witnessed the depth in his gaze. His eyes had so many thoughts behind them that I could feel them as if they were my own. I got sucked in so far it felt like the world had stopped. Everything that was happening around us seemed irrelevant in every way as we watched one another. I was lost, so lost in him, and the feeling was amazing. Was he lost in me, too? I saw something, an emotion in those eyes, but what was it? Happiness? Pain? The line between the two was so thin. As if he himself was still trying to figure out what side to align with.

  As he watched me, his eyelashes flickered and the lines of his face softened. His stoic expression from just a moment ago melted away. And without it, he managed to become even more mesmerizing, even more enticing. What was he thinking about to warrant such an abrupt change?

  Just then, his full lips parted slightly.

  My heart leaped. He was about to speak. I wondered if his voice matched his presence: intriguing, deep, and powerful. Maybe what happened earlier was a misunderstanding? The stress of the quiz could have made anyone act out of character.

  “Ahem.”

  We both blinked at the same time, then looked at the cashier who�
�d just cleared her throat. She had her arms crossed and eyed us as she waited for payment.

  I shook my head, ignoring her, and took my gaze back to the guy. And it took only that millisecond of time stolen by the cashier for his expression to change again. The softened look he just shared with me was no more. He reached over my purchases and swiped his card in the card reader. He took his drink and left the establishment without a word.

  I stood there in shock, my mouth agape.

  “Miss?”

  I barely heard the cashier, for my own mood was changing. I was no longer in shock. I was pissed. My face heated and my shaking hands clamped down hard on my brownie, leaving it a ruined, chocolaty mess.

  “Miss, is that all for you today?”

  My gaze was still toward the door he just breezed through. “Yeah. That’s about all that I can take for today.”

  *

  My frustration took over my work later that afternoon in art class. Frustration from being embarrassed, frustration from being made a fool out of for the second time today, or maybe what brewed inside me was just damned sexual frustration. I didn’t know what the feeling stemmed from, but whatever the source, the result was red and black and splashed on my canvas. I knew this. I could do this. Here, I was in control. Here, I was in the zone.

  “Very dark today, I see.”

  I jumped, fumbling with my paintbrush at the sound of Professor Frankton’s unexpected voice.

  She patted my shoulder. “Oh, I didn’t mean to scare you, dear. Are you all right?”

  “Uh, yeah, sorry.” I must have been more on edge than I thought.

  She nodded and watched as I continued my strokes. “I enjoy your use of the contrasting tones. I can almost feel the emotion.”

  “Thanks, Professor.” It felt so nice to hear her encouraging words. She really was my favorite professor.

  “You are doing very well, and I am proud of where your work has taken you over the past few years.”

  I smiled inside. “I’d like to take all the credit, but without your mentoring, it would have been impossible to achieve.”

  “I just want you to know that I have valued the passion you put into your work and believe you to be an excellent student,” she said, her voice noticeably less enthused.

  Upon the somber change in her voice, I looked at her. Her expression matched her tone. I wondered why. “Thank you,” I managed to say. “I’ve always appreciated your opinion.”

  She gazed at my work a bit longer, gave me another nod, then wobbled her stocky frame over to another student.

  I continued to brush red onto the canvas in long strokes, but my pace slowed. Why did she act that way toward me? And why did she feel the need to say what she said? The paranoid thoughts surfaced about the showcase. I was too close to lose it now. I put down my brush to check out everyone else’s progress.

  I came across another dark piece quite similar to mine. The composition was nice, but the execution was mediocre at best—no real threat there. I moved on. The next piece I came across was a sculpture of some kind. The art was very reminiscent of a donkey riding another donkey in a very suggestive manner. I think it was safe to say this wasn’t going to be on Frankton’s radar. I continued to make my rounds. Clacking filled my ears, and I stilled. A second later, the beast rode up beside me. I rolled my eyes.

  “Ariel, Ariel ….” Lila shook her head. “Don’t you know it’s rude to spy?” She took out a large piece of linen cloth and covered her canvas.

  Ugh! I hated this girl.

  “I think it’s only considered spying if there’s actually competition, Lila dear, and from the looks of it as I was coming over, I think you still have your work cut out for you.” I didn’t really see her work, but she didn’t need to know that. I hated how nasty she always made me act. I didn’t like who I turned into when I was around her. She brought out the worst in me, and I hated her for it.

  “You’re not fooling anyone, Ariel.” She smirked. “You’re absolutely pathetic. Why don’t you waddle back over to your finger paints and let the big girls handle the showcase, that is, if you can make those thunder thighs of yours work enough to make the journey before you collapse from fatigue.” She tapped my face with her clean paintbrush.

  I smacked the brush away and stepped toward her.

  Surprised, she stepped back with widened eyes.

  My eyes blazed her way, and my body shook as I stared her down. I’d never been in a fight before, but today definitely felt like a good day to try something new.

  She continued to watch me and swallowed, her gaze reading fear as she studied me.

  I closed my eyes, turning my head away. What am I doing? This isn’t me. She isn’t worth it. I shook my head and turned to leave.

  “That’s right, Ariel. Keep walking and scrap that abomination you created. There really isn’t a point to continuing with it.” She laughed.

  I breathed in deeply and stepped toward my canvas.

  “Excuse me, everyone. Attention; up here please.”

  I turned. Professor Frankton stood at the head of the room.

  “I won’t take up too much of your time. I just have a quick announcement to make,” she said.

  An announcement? My heart hitched. Was it about the showcase?

  “As you all know, the annual student showcase will be held within the upcoming weeks. It’s a time for the campus’ finest to shine and have their work displayed in the student union. This opportunity will afford the chosen students a chance to network with gallery owners and art connoisseurs during the opening night banquet.” She paused to get a reaction, but there wasn’t one. “It is my pleasure to announce that I have chosen the participant to represent our class, and I am going to announce that information now.” That statement did get a response, and it took her at least half a minute to silence the room.

  What was she talking about? She never announced the winner this way in the previous years. There was usually an assembly and all the classes came together to hear the results. This was so unorthodox. Why was she doing this?

  “I am so excited about the promise of this year’s participant that I could not keep you all in the dark any longer.”

  I knew my work was good, but not so good that Professor Frankton would create such a commotion. I watched her mouth move in slow motion. Her lips formed but two words. Her voice released my greatest fear. And as I absorbed the impact of the name, I felt like I was hit by a runaway freight train.

  I turned in a daze and that string-bean grin was solidified on Lila’s face.

  She crossed her arms and stared at me in triumph. “So, when should we start your tutoring?”

  Chapter Four

  My eyes fluttered shut in Zoology, and I forced them to open. The words on the projection screen melted into one another. I pinched under my eyelids, hoping the pain would wake me up. The screen then filled with multiple images of Lila’s string-bean grin and little laughing Professor Franktons.

  Time to sleep.

  I felt like I just dozed off when the hand I rested on was knocked out from under me. My eyes shot open and I jerked to attention. Oh. The annoyance was just the red bob.

  “What’s the big idea?” I rubbed my cloudy eyes.

  Piper slid in close.

  “Ariel, you have been completely comatose lately. I hardly ever see you outside of class anymore since you’ve been up in your room painting all day and night. Why are you letting Lika Dicks get to you so badly?” she whispered.

  I didn’t expect her to understand. She could drop out of college tomorrow, if she wanted to, and rely on her parents for anything she needed. I didn’t have that luxury. I had to get a jump on my collection for next year. My future rode on the exposure it would give me.

  After hearing she didn’t really have anything particularly noteworthy to say, I drifted back off to sleep. I felt a nudging on my arm seconds later.

  “Piper, bug off.” I kept my eyes closed, talking through the side of my lips.
r />   “Ms. Richmond, maybe if you stayed alert in my class your quizzes might read differently.”

  Professor James’ wide, frameless spectacles met my gaze. I watched my two previous quizzes float to my desk from his hands. I wasn’t surprised by my low marks, but I was surprised by the big fat See Me, written on my most recent exam.

  He left my desk and continued his rounds through the class.

  I placed my hand on my forehead, then ran it into my hair. From over my shoulder, I saw Piper’s C+. “How?”

  “I stay awake during class.” She eyed me and crossed in front of me. Heading down the aisle, she left the auditorium door.

  I sat for a moment, trying to will the grade to change, but to no avail. Looking around the room, I tried to make myself feel better with other people’s reactions, but everyone seemed to be as content with their grades as Piper had been.

  Gazing down at the floor, I rubbed at the spot where my keepsake usually laid. My comfort. My strength. I knew there was no necklace there now, but I rubbed anyway. How long I sat there doing that I didn’t know, but when I lifted my head, the lecture hall was empty in front of me.

  I sighed and gathered my belongings. There was no use delaying the inevitable any longer. My professor had his office hours directly after this class, and, since I had a break now, I knew where I was headed.

  As I stood, a student’s gaze locked on mine as he breezed past.

  Maybe I wasn’t as alone as I thought.

  The guy with the green-gray eyes stared at me for only a moment, then glanced away. He continued down the aisle and left the double doors of the auditorium without a word.

  I stood there, thinking about what just happened. I wasn’t sure, but when I caught his eyes, it looked like there was sympathy in them. Like he felt for me in that moment or something.

  I really must be tired.

  I shrugged it off. There was no way, after ignoring me like the plague since that day we met, he would suddenly take notice of me, let alone feel sorry for me. And how would he know about my quiz grades, anyway? I was seriously losing it. I shook my head and finished gathering my stuff. Leaving the lecture hall, I took my walk of shame to my professor’s office.

 

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