"Why don't you just leave? I don't want you here." He deadpanned.
"Iwantto be here," I confessed, but this time it was him who couldn't look me in the eye.
"Why?" He asked, looking down.
"I don't know. I guess you're a good artist, and I wanna see what's so damn good about you." I said, averting the topic from where it was about to go.
"So you basically want to use me for my art? that's a very bad thing for a good girl like you." He said with a slight smirk.
"I'mnota good girl," I replied. I hated being called that. I hated titles.
"Right." He said, grabbing another pencil,
"My intentions are clear, River. I want to learn. I want to see your work." I conveyed,
"And what makes you think that I'd waste my precious time on you?"
"Because if you don't, I'll go on believing that you're all bark and no bite." I taunted, tracing the steak knife up and down the table, closer and closer to him.
"You can't hurt me." He said, grabbing the opposite end of the knife with his bare hand. He lifted a condescending eyebrow.
He was testing me, and I was trapped. If I pulled the knife forward, it would cut him, and if I pulled it back towards me, It would hurt me. The question hanging in the air was, how badly did I want this? How badly did I want to take a step further into his fucked up world? I wasn't going to let him win. I couldn't let him win.
I pulled the knife towards me, and I felt the sharp end of it pierce my soft skin. I stiffened my jaw, so I didn't let out a whimper and River's eyes held this sense of disbelief. He didn't expect me to do this, did he? He expected me to let go and cower. He let go of the knife at the same time I did, never breaking eye contact with me as he handed me a serviette so I could clean the blood dripping from the small cut on my hand.
"You think you're going to break me, River Kennedy, but that's where you're wrong," I assured him, grabbing the knife from him and wiping it clean.
"How so?" He wondered,
"Because I'll have you know that if it ever comes down to it, I will be the architect of my own destruction," I informed him, mimicking his body language and nonchalance. "Let me know if you'll be willing, m'kay?"
I stood up from the table, my mind spinning from the events that had just taken place. I had to be losing my mind. The second I was out of his sight, I leaned my head on the cool concrete of the building and took some deep breaths. I looked at my hand and thought, nothing rubbing alcohol and a bandage can't fix. Just then, the perky waitress from before followed me outside with a folded piece of paper in her hand.
"I'm sorry, are you Pandora?" She asked, and everything inside me was urging me to say no, that he was fucked up and not worth it in the slightest. But I needed to know more.
"Yes," I replied, and she handed it to me.
I opened up the paper and was surprised to see a light sketch of a girl with thick dark curls with her back turned, walking out of a café. Oh my God, it was me. When did he even find the time to draw this? I turned to the back, and it wrote:
Armani, who are you when everyone’s asleep? Show me what's hidden underneath.
Parc Monceau 9pm Saturday
-RK
I was convinced that I was losing my mind, that I was spiralling down a rabbit hole that I wasn't going to be able to get myself out of. Everyone knows that the only way out of the rabbit hole is to taste the poison, River Kennedy was my poison, and I couldn't risk tasting him without ruining myself in the process. This boy, whom I barely knew, had me so fascinated by him. I wanted more than anything to know him despite the fact that it seemed as though he wanted nothing to do with me.
"Miss Nnandi, the class takes place in here, not out there." My French teacher scolded, folding her arms and catching me staring out the window.
"I'm sorry, miss." I apologized, and I swear if I could do that, I'd be blushing right now.
"In French!" She insisted, and I nearly jumped out of my seat.
"Désolé mademoiselle." I apologized once more, looking down.
"Youmusthave confidence, Miss Nnandi. They name the most powerful storms after women for a reason." She told me, and I smiled sheepishly.
I had never been that girl that was loud or even remotely outgoing. I'd never been the girl with a lot of friends or the girl who everyone liked and gravitated towards. I had made peace with that fact. It was strange for me because, at Clearwater High, I felt no different to the air around me. Everyone knew I existed, but it was like they saw right through me. St Kathrines was different, it was almost as though it'd be impossible for someonenotto see me, people all around me looked and stared like there was something worth seeing, and I did not hate it.
