Elemental: Chapter One, Part 3

It was around the time before Thanksgiving when Richie asked me out. I’m not one to hold grudges for very long—it’s exhausting!—and I honestly never had a grudge against him. I was just playing the part of the loyal friend, even if we were all more fickle than loyal, so Richie had been relegated to my list of people to avoid.

He approached at the end of speech class, after a series of book reports. I was still collecting my books before the bell rang when he came up and sat atop my desk. None of my friends paid any mind; they were off pumping juicy details from Hilary Swin in the corner—supposedly, she had been caught totally wasted at a football party over the weekend and was mysteriously AWOL for a few hours. According to the rumor circulating, she had been seen during that time out by the hot tub. Of course, Emily and the rest just had to have the facts straight before they plastered it in every available ear about how she was either easy or sleazy. Not exactly my cup of tea.

“So how have you been as of late, Abriel?” Richie asked. He was probably testing the waters to see if I’d bite his head off or not. Fortunate for him, he had more than my nonchalant feelings on the disaster going for him; Richie also had my proper upbringing.

“Well enough. And yourself?” I replied easily in a similar manner, trying for disinterest. I wasn’t sure I was actually hitting it, though. While I had nothing against him, personally, and it was against my nurtured behavior to be rude, I still had a high school life to worry about, in which my friends—no matter how shallow or fickle they may be—were somewhat important.

“Well enough.” He was quiet a moment before asking, “Would you like to see a movie some time?”

I looked him in the eye, a tad shocked, and inquired, “Why me, out of all the other girls? Especially after what you did to Emily and Sara?” True, I might have seen this coming, but it was still a shock he was gutsy enough to try. And despite what he had done, I was still flattered. Not many guys asked me out when they could use me to become closer with and eventually date Sara or one of the others. I was used to that sort of thing happening, even though I wished it wouldn’t. It would be great to be liked for who I was versus who I knew.

He chuckled, a gleam in his eye. “You know as well as I do that not only did they deserve it, they had it coming. A shame neither learned from the experience.”

“You still haven’t given me a reason,” I stated, avoiding any confirmation of his statement. Honestly, they didn’t necessarily deserve it, but it had been bound to happen. But there are some situations when holding your tongue is a better way to survive.

Richie looked contemplatively into my eyes. At that moment, I realized how astoundingly bright green his eyes were. They were stunning really, practically the color of poison ivy. I didn’t know why it occurred to me then of all times, but I had never noticed how alluring they were.

“All the other girls don’t have your brains.” As cheesy and overused as it sounded coming from him, with those eyes watching me, I couldn’t help but believe it to be true. Even with my history of guys not actually liking me but merely using me to some other end, I wanted to believe he wasn’t like them.

Avoiding his gaze, I asked the all important question: “And in this town, where money and looks are everything, you’re going to tell me you care about brains?”

“Not necessarily,” he smirked, his eyes lighting up. “I care about being with an individual who isn’t afraid to be outside the standard and discuss something…revolutionary.”

“I’m assuming you’re referencing my book speech. Yet I don’t quite see how Yann Martel is revolutionary,” I confided, trying to find a reason to say no. I wasn’t having much luck outside of the friend argument, but the more he spoke to me and looked at me with those eyes, the weaker that argument seemed. How much did I actually enjoy throwing away my time for them, after all?

“It’s not standard, you can agree with that?” he returned, catching my eyes again, his bright ivy ones seeming to burn into me. They were dangerous almost—which didn’t scare me, though I felt like it should have—and completely sincere.

“Somewhat.”

“Then you’ll go out with me?” He waggled his eyebrows, the severity in his gaze dissipating and the motion causing me to giggle. That he could be so serious one moment and completely silly the next was attractive. To me, anyways.

I couldn’t see any real reason as to why not—maybe it was those eyes? Richie was funny, talented, smart, popular, occasionally a skeezebag, but decent most of the time. Not to mention his upbringing—as was true for most of our school population—was extremely similar to my own, so it wasn’t like there was a new code of conduct to learn or worry over how my mother might react. On top of all of that, he was interested in me. He had already been with Sara and Emily and was now choosing me; I had never experienced that, and the longer his eyes focused on me—actually seeming to see me—the more I wanted to know what it was like to be desired by a boy. “Sure.”