Faction of Chaos

A story by: Sesheta

Chapter V

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Alia:

“Bret! Tell me what’s going on!” It was after church, and I was using my most lethal puppy dog face, the one I saved for drastic measures.

He bit his lip, trying to control himself from blurting out whatever was on his mind. I widened my eyes even more, staring up at him from my none-too-impressive height.

He handed me a tiny slip of paper.

“Read it after bible study.” He winked at me, and I questioned him with my eyes.

Bible study was long and slightly boring. We were looking over Genesis, as we did at the beginning of every “new church season” as Father Genes called it. It was one of the many books I’d heard and read one too many times.

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James

At 8:00 I still hadn’t finished flipping through the songs on my iPod. Having a wealthy father who didn’t care about your iTunes bills resulted in extremely heavy ones.

Betsy was probably up burning some elaborate breakfast attempt at this very moment. Patrick would be reading the Sunday paper, before going to the officel to work for “just a few hours”

I stared up at the ceiling some more, a feeling of loneliness and emptiness washing over me. I didn’t know why; I’d barely ever felt lonely. I was complete within myself and had never needed friends, or even family.

I didn’t eat breakfast; instead I simply sat on the couch and stared blankly at the TV.

“James, you’re never one for watching TV, what’s gotten into you?” I looked up at Betsy, who was standing there sweating lightly from slaving over the stove, a spatula in one hand. Her gray hair was pinned up neatly, but already fly-a-ways were beginning to spring out form the neatly pinned curls.

“I feel strange today,” was all I told her. She creased her brow in worry, but retreated back to the kitchen as the smell of something burning hit her nose.

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The next day was school, and my first day of electives.

I’d chosen art, though I didn’t know why. Usually I got my father to get me out of my electives. There really wasn’t anything for me in them and the school was more than willing to let the electives class slide for a little donation.

I trudged down the hall to every class. I didn’t need to take notes in any class; I just listened and remembered everything.

It was time for art. The first impression I got of the place was that the teacher was eclectic, and the class was full of slackers save for Alia. She wasn’t in class yet, which was strange, because she was always the earliest in every class.

I sat away from the other kids, who were slumped in a circle they’d made by pulling up the low stools. They were discussing something in hushed tones. What, I could care less. I was waiting for Alia to enter the room, as absurd as it was. It wasn’t like her to be late.

She rushed into the room just before the bell rang. She looked like her normal, pretty self. I didn’t even know when I’d started to think of her as pretty, and right now I didn’t care. Her eyes, the exact same hue and shade of mine, locked onto mine. All of their sparkle was gone. I was sure they truly mirrored mine in more than color now.

She sat next to me. That was unexpected. What was even more unexpected was that I was glad she did. I hadn’t experienced happy emotions in such a long time. I hadn’t felt anything in such a long time. I didn’t know what was coming over me, but I couldn’t say I hated it.

I could tell something was wrong the moment she sat down. The small sigh, the way her shoulders slumped slightly. Something was amiss.

“What’s wrong?” I did my best to keep my voice disinterested. That in itself was strange, I wasn’t used to putting up false pretenses.

“Nothing.”

“Tell me.” I was intensely focused. I felt like the intensity of my gaze could shatter her small structure. She turned to face me all the way, and I could tell that this time she wouldn’t lie to me.

“You were right, about Bret.” I smirked. Of course I was right; unlike her, Bret was an open book to me, easy to read.

“Of course I was.” My voice was gravely serious, holding none of the mirth it should have. The truth was, I didn’t like another guy moving in on Alia. My Alia. I wondered if this was a bad thing to think.

“He gave me a note at church. I haven’t seen him since; I’m scared of what I should say.”

I knew the answer to her dilemma, of course. I knew exactly what made Bret tick; I knew how she could appease him.

“Just keep acting like things are normal. He’ll expect to go with you to the upcoming dance, but if you say no, hell just keep plugging away. He may act hurt, but unless you want to end your friendship with him forever, you’ll have to deal with it.” My words were harsh and blunt, and I felt guilty for making them that way. It was the cold hard truth, though. I could see surprise register in her eyes. She knew I was right.

“Wow, you’re probably right. I think it’ll culminate eventually, but for now I’ll do what you say.” I nodded, but turned to face the front to signal our conversation was over.

The silence was a stiff, agitated one on my part. Though I’d ended our conversation I still wanted to be talking to her, to pick that fascinating brain of hers. It was downright weird, I wondered if I was suffering from a mental illness.

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Alia:

I felt like I’d done something horrible, like it was my fault Bret liked me. It was, really. Bret liked me because of me. It was my entire fault.

I was no stranger to guilt, but I never blamed myself for anything that wasn’t really my fault. I knew this whole situation wasn’t my fault, I knew it, but I still felt like it was.

“Hey.” My voice was weak as I plopped down next to Bree in the cafeteria. Bret was sitting across from us, staring into his lasagna as if it was the eighth wonder of the world.

Bree looked at me, like she was expecting something. I acted like I didn’t know what she was thinking, and gave her a puzzled look. ‘What?’ I said with my eyes.

She shook her head. She was annoyed, I could tell, and she pitied me. She thought she could see something in me that I couldn’t see. She was wrong, no one knew anything about me.

I stood up, though I’d just sat down.

“Bye Bree,” I said too cheerfully. “Bye Bret,” I whispered quietly. He looked up and gave me a weak smile. I returned it, my own ridden with guilt.

My tray was still full of food, and there was still an empty throbbing pain in my stomach vicinity, but I walked toward the garbage can.

On my way there, I passed the darkest corner of the cafeteria. The corner where James sat. Every eye was turned away from him now, unlike the first day of school. People hated his frankness and the fact that he ignored them. Everyone wanted to feel like they were loved, I doubted he loved anyone or anything.

My feet propelled me towards him. He looked up when he heard me, surprised. His eyes- so shockingly like mine that I’d been taken aback that day in the library- were keen and zeroed in on me as I stood, waiting for invitation to sit.

“I thought I’d sit by you today,” he looked slightly taken aback, and surprised, but quickly erased the emotions on his face to ones of cool collection.

“Sit, there’s plenty of room.” He gestured with one lean hand to the multitude of empty chairs surrounding his table. I sat on one of the hard wood chairs across from him. He picked apart a piece of chicken, eating the individual little pieces. He stared down at it as if it was the most fascinating thing in the world. I wondered if he was obsessive compulsive.

The silence was awkward, until he looked up at me with penetrating eyes.

“Tell me about your family.” It wasn’t a question, it was a command. He was trying to find out more about me.

“My mom is 48, she divorced my dad eleven years ago. My dad lives in Denver with my step mom, Georgia,” I said dully. I felt like I was filling out a questionnaire. It was the standard information everyone knew about me in this rather small school.

“No, no.” He looked frustrated beyond belief. “Tell me details, things about your life that no one else really knows.”

He would be wrong; Bret and Bree knew everything about me. I couldn’t possibly tell him things they didn’t know about me, for there were none.

“Well, my mom is really eccentric. She’s an amazing cook, and she supports me single handedly. She doesn’t really look like me, I’m more like my father. She’s the sweetest person I know. I want to get into Brown University, so I can repay her for everything she’s done for me.”

He raised his eyebrows in surprise- they almost disappeared behind his hairline.

“You didn’t say anything about your dad. You’re not going to repay him?”

I sniffed rather haughtily, remembering the indifferent attitude my father kept towards anything involving my life.

“He doesn’t deserve my time.”

He laughed. It was a musical laugh, though it was short. One I hadn’t known I’d longed to hear, but when I did, I craved more. I shook myself back to my senses. Remember, coherent thought Alia.

“You’re quite harsh on people you don’t like.” I nodded in agreement. It was true. “I suppose that means you approve of me, to some degree?” It would have sounded playful, if it wasn’t coming out of his mouth. It sounded frank and upfront. He said exactly what he was thinking.

He was more musing than asking a question, but I nodded.

“To some degree, yes.” I took a large chunk out of the round, slightly brownish roll on my tray.

He laughed that laugh again. It was a short lived one, but it made me blush a bit. I drug my nails over my cheek, disguising it as scratching, to get the blush to go away. His laugh was a low baritone, and I knew it would ring out over the whole cafeteria if he only laughed louder.

I smiled unconsciously at his laugh, but as son as I recognized that smile, I wiped it off my face.

“I’ll see you in English,” I said. I stood up with my tray and uneaten food (besides the one roll) and let a small smile escape. He returned it with a wide grin that sent my heart pounding – flashing a set of naturally straight pearly white teeth. His teeth were natural, I though sardonically. Some people had to get braces to have their teeth straight. I flashed myself an amused grin in the hall to English. I wonder what he’d say about that.

A/N: Ok, rather short chapter, but I wanted to get it out. School, volleyball (both club and school teams), yearbook, and having a life are taking up almost all my spare time, so if you want updates they’re going to have to be short.

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Q: Why is Alia oblivious to the fact that Bret likes her?

A: well, she isn’t anymore.

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Q: James is an only child?

A: Yes, that goes without saying

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Q: James is still like Edward

A: That is a good thing, because I’m madly in love with Edward Cullen. I know the whole speed demon thing is just like Ms. Meyer’s character, but there’s a reason he’s a speed demon, it’s going to lead to things, and I’m afraid those things that happen may make him even more like Edward.

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Also in regard to James being just like Edward, there are some subtle differences, but I think that my love for Ms. Meyer’s character has seeped through into my writing, because I just finished Eclipse and then re-reading Twilight (which I loaned to my friend, which I’m seriously regretting because she’s a slow reader and I MUST have my Twilight book, incase I’m in the mood for sporadic re-reading, which happens often.)

Anyway, thank you to all of my loverly reviewers! You guys rock my socks!

Reviewers for last chapter (the few, the proud I hope)

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I love you guys to death.