Bird Song (25 page)

Of course, the arrival of flowers put a kink in things.
 
I say flowers, but in truth, it seemed like an entire forest had sprung up around Lark as one by one, she was inundated with bouquets by boys who had chosen to spend their hard earned allowance money on her.
 
We had barely made it to our table, her arms full of roses and carnations, the heady aroma thick enough to make even the diehard flower fanatic nauseas, when yet another round of boys showed up with flowers for her.

“You should re-sell those flowers,” Stacy suggested as Lark quipped about how not even she could carry all of the bouquets and singletons that covered the table and spilled over onto the floor around us.
 
“It looks like every florist in Heath owes their day’s profit to you.”

I smiled at Lark’s frustration, thankful for the single lily that Robert had presented me with this morning.
 
“You know, I think we’re the only two girls here who actually feel sorry for you.”

Lark huffed.
 
“If you felt sorry for me, you’d help me carry some of these around.”

Stacy shook her head while laughing.
 
“I don’t think so.
 
Graham didn’t even bother to get me a card, so suddenly walking around carrying twenty bouquets of roses and baby’s breath is going to feel even more awkward and inadequate.”

Lark turned her head to me, the question on her mind sounding like a mournful song in my head and I almost relented.
 
Almost.
 
“I’m sorry Lark, but I have Biology next, and all of those flowers will only get in the way of trying to keep Mr.
Branke’s
hands to himself.”

Lark pouted, the face so unbelievably precious it drew forth another round of flower-laden boys, each one professing their extreme like, lust, love, and one even admitted to her being an obsession.
 
Each time she graciously thanked them and then turned down their requests for dates.
 
All around us, I could feel the air of jealousy and envy growing thicker and thicker.
 
“I can see now why
you
hate this holiday,” I murmured as I pulled some of the flowers out of her arms.

“It’s more than just this,” she responded as she sighed and dumped the rest onto the seat beside her.
 
“I mean, these boys cannot help feeling the way that they do.
 
It’s part and parcel to what I am, and so a great deal of their behavior is involuntary, which makes it far less flattering than all of those girls believe it to be.”
 
She nodded her head towards a particular table several feet away from us filled with just girls whose eyes were all glued to the stunning and ethereal Lark.

“Human males aren’t capable of telling me no, and they certainly cannot help themselves when it comes down to a choice between me or their girlfriends.
 
It’s not something I say out of ego, because it’s not me, Lark, that that they’re interested in.
 
It’s the hidden divinity that draws them in.
 
It’s the same thing for Robert.
 
He’s got no control over the way girls react to him; they never tell him no and it’s that power that gives us the ability to pretty much live and do what we please.
 
Very rarely will a human ever defy us, which is why you’re pretty special, Grace.”

I felt myself flush at the compliment.
 
“You didn’t think so when we first met.”

Lark laughed at that as we both recalled the short confrontation that had occurred.
 
“You’re right.
 
You caught me off guard.
 
I hadn’t expected Robert to have told you so much so soon, and yet you weren’t trying to suck up to me like I had expected.
 
I think that angered me more than anything else.
 
I don’t like being surprised.”

Stacy chuckled, her head bobbing up and down in agreement.
 
“That’s true.
 
I can’t even begin to imagine what that must feel like for you; you know what everyone is thinking, and then Grace shows up throws something at you from out of left field…that’s a total mental plot twist!”

“What’s a total mental plot twist?”

The three of us looked up at Graham.
 
And his tray of food.
 
“Are you actually going to eat all of that?” Stacy asked as he sat down and we took in the enormous mound of unrecognizable mush that he had piled on his plate.

“I’m hungry.
 
Besides, your mother made this, although I’m definitely hoping that your cooking skills aren’t as bad.”

Stacy’s lips pursed, the insult taking a stronger, tighter hold on her than the hint of a possible future together.
 
“My mother didn’t cook this slop.
 
She makes the desserts, like that piece of pie that she wrapped up for you.”
 
She reached over and snatched the plastic-wrap covered plate from his tray and placed it in front of herself.
 
“But, if you think that she’s such a lousy cook, I’m sure you won’t mind if I eat this instead.”

She pulled the plastic wrap off and, using her hands, lifted the pie to her mouth and took a large bite out of it.
 
Graham was left gaping at her, his fork poised in mid-air, the “slop” oozing from between the tines.

“Now
that
is good pie,” she said after swallowing the last bite.
 
“It’s too bad that the desserts are usually the first to go, otherwise you’d be able to go back and get another slice.”

Lark and I couldn’t help but laugh as Graham looked dejectedly at his now cold lunch, the spot where the pie had once sat seeming to shout out its emptiness, and sighed.
 
“I deserved that, I guess.
 
Sorry.”

Stacy shrugged her shoulders and reached into her backpack, pulling out a brown paper bag.
 
“Here,” she said as she tossed the bag to him.

He caught it just before it landed in his food.
 
“What is it?”

“Just open it.”

He pulled the bag open and let out a whoop of joy as he pulled out another plastic wrapped piece of pie.
 
“Thanks,
Stace
!”
 
He jumped up and placed a quick peck on her cheek before returning to his seat to quickly devour the dessert, sighs of satisfaction the only sound out of him for the next few minutes.

“You’re welcome,” she said in a soft voice.
 
His reaction should have made her smile, blush, something…instead she seemed disappointed, sad even.

“So, what’s with the garden?” Graham asked when he was done inhaling his pie.
 
“Did somebody die?”
 
He looked at the flowers that surrounded Lark, wrinkling his nose as the smell began to mingle with the odor that emanated from his lunch tray.

“It’s Valentine’s Day.
 
Guys do this sort of thing on days like this when they like a girl,” Lark replied, her voice annoyed.

Graham snorted.
 
“Yeah.
 
Right.
 
It’s more like this is the sort of thing that guys do when they want to get into a girl’s pants.”

“Oh really?”

Graham’s face grew ashen as he turned around.
 
Robert was standing behind us, his arms crossed over his chest, his expression stern, though upon closer inspection a slight twitch of a smile could be seen at the bow of his mouth.

“Well, it’s not like you got Grace anything,” Graham pointed out, the flowers in my hands all bearing tags that read Lark’s name quite obvious to anyone who was looking.

Robert slowly lifted the cellophane and tissue paper wrapped bundles out of my hands and placed them onto the ground behind me, leaving one ribbon wrapped stem lying in front of me.
 
He picked it up gently, turning it around and staring at it, the sheer, sapphire and silver ribbons dangling well past the stem.
 
I hadn’t noticed how well it complimented the ring that glinted on my finger, the deep blue stone still void of the once brilliant star that had once occupied its center.

“You got her that?”

Robert nodded, his hand gracefully laying the flower into my own.
 
“It’s not an entire florist shop, or a piece of pie, but it’s something I know that Grace would appreciate.”

I lowered my head to hide the flush on my face.
 
Robert sat down beside me, his hand lifting my chin to look into my eyes as he continued.
 
“And while some boys do use gifts to try to lure their paramours into giving up certain liberties, most don’t.
 
I don’t.
 
I wouldn’t know what to say about you since I’m fairly certain that you haven’t given Stacy a gift yet, but if you truly believe what you say, I suppose it’s a good thing that Stacy’s been left wanting this year.”

My eyes grew wide at the insult, the insinuation.
 
I heard Stacy gasp, felt the shock in Lark’s mind as her thoughts stung my mind.
 
What I didn’t hear was the rebuttal from Graham.
 
He should have been livid.
 
He should have jumped to defend himself, or at least defend Stacy.

Instead he apologized, grabbed his tray, and left without saying another word.
 
How could you do that?
 
I glared at Robert, my eyes having never left his.
 
How could you embarrass him like that?

His eyes turned into cold steel and the temperature in the air around us changed to match.
 
He’s embarrassed because he knows I’m right, Grace.
 
He left because he couldn’t face that fact.
 
His comment was asinine and his behavior unacceptable.
 
But I didn’t say what I did to hurt him, or you.
 
Sometimes people need to have their mistakes pointed out in order for them to be rectified.

I opened my mouth to say something.
 
Anything.
 
But what could I say?
 
He was right.
 
And I was angry at him for that.

“The fact that you two are so eerily silent should be enough to clue me in that you’re fighting, but if you don’t mind taking it off mute so that I can defend myself if my name happens to come up, I’d really appreciate it.”
 
Stacy looked at the both of us.
 
She could have been quite calm, or she could have been furious; I had no clue as to which because the look on her face was totally unreadable.

“I’m sorry,” I apologized.
 
“I-we weren’t…”

She waved her hand in front of me.
 
“Look, I know it was one hundred percent about Graham, so don’t get all freaked.
 
Robert, I appreciate what you said, but I don’t need you to defend my honor, or whatever it is that you were trying to do.
 
I can take care of myself, okay?”

Robert nodded, his mood lifting somewhat, the air slowly warming around us.
 
“I guess I overstepped my bounds.
 
I forget that not all girls are damsels in distress.”

“No one here, anyway,” Lark snarled.
 
“If you’re feeling useless, why don’t you go out and flick someone in the head?
 
Create a nice little head wound that you can try and heal so that you keep your nose out of other people’s business?”

She stood up, the movement so quick her chair went flying out behind her and slammed into the back of the cafeteria wall.
 
The sound caused everything else around us to stop.
 
“You might think you’re perfect, Robert, but you’re not.
 
Remember that.”

Stacy and I looked at each other as Lark stalked off.
 
We both could almost see the thoughts running through each other’s mind, and instinct took over all other form of judgment.
 
I looked at Robert apologetically, looked at the stack of flowers piled up all around our now empty table, and turned to follow his sister.

To my and Stacy’s surprise, she hadn’t disappeared with the speed that she was accustomed to.
 
Instead she stalked towards her locker at the leisurely pace of someone like…well, me.
 
She had foregone the walking stick, instead choosing to vocally count out any steps so that should anyone ask how she managed to make it to her locker without it, she’d be able to answer truthfully.

Of course, the attempt at human actions ended as soon as she reached her locker.
 
Without a second thought, she ripped the combination lock cleanly from the door, the mechanism holding the lock seemingly melting like butter.
 
Her door opened with a lazy squeak, and Stacy and I witnessed something that we both knew no one had ever seen before.

Lark’s hand was shaking.
 
I stepped towards her and took her hand into mine.
 
It felt unnaturally cool, as though her icy demeanor had transferred into her flesh.
 
I followed her gaze into her locker and felt the catch in my breath even as I recognized the very same one in hers.