022 – The heart is a fickle creature
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Hello, time for another disclaimer.

I'm a pragmatic person, so I have a lot of trouble understanding romance and love in my characters. That being said, I know readers love to see a good romance develop. This chapter was my first attempt to deliver. Please leave a comment and tell me how I did.

Much love, and enjoy Chapter 22.

“So, what’s your favorite part about being a Reaper so far?” Marisha asked me between sips of her iced coffee.

“Gotta be the humanitarian sacrifice, and the good deeds,” I said without thinking. Sarcastic responses came naturally to me.

“Oh really?” She raised an eyebrow at me. “I never thought you were such a Good Samaritan.”

I gave a gasp of mock-offense. “My dear woman! How can you say such things?”

We both burst out laughing at that, rocking back in our chairs and snorting. It was a nice break after all that hard training to relax with a cup of coffee and just talk with someone. Despite Marisha’s obvious charm and good looks, I couldn’t help but feel relaxed in her presence. Talking to her was easier than with anyone else. I could almost forget about the Crucible coming up at the end of the weekend. Almost.

“No, really,” she said once she’d caught her breath. “What’s your favorite part so far?”

“To be honest,” I said slowly, “Probably the fighting. Master Selena is a nightmare opponent, but it’s really fun to learn a new style.”

“I knew you’d enjoy that,” she said with a smirk. “You always looked so happy wrestling, that I knew you’d love that part of Reaper Life.”

“How would you know that I enjoyed writing so much?” I asked. “I’ve never seen you at my matches. Well, all except the tournaments.”

“I’ve been to nearly all your matches if my training didn’t get in the way,” she said. “I liked watching you. You have good form, and your fighting spirit is amazing to watch.”

I could feel my face flushing at her praise. I’d had no clue that she’d watched me that closely. I’d been wrestling since middle school, so I’d had about six years of matches. I wanted to ask her if she’d been watching from the beginning, but decided that was probably weird. I liked the casual relationship that I’d built with her and didn’t wanna screw that up.

“So you were watching me in Reaper form, then?” I asked, smirking myself now. “Why would you hide? There were plenty of female wrestling fans. I can’t imagine you stuck out that much.”

“I didn’t want to be seen,” she said, a slight red tinge in her cheeks. “I was super shy in middle school, you know.”

“You. Shy?” I couldn’t imagine it. “I find that hard to believe.”

“That’s fair,” she grinned. “I’m much better now. Reaper Training has given me a lot of confidence.”

“You have a lot to be confident about,” I said. “You’re a terrifying sight when you’re going full-throttle.”

“Of course you’d only compliment my fighting style,” she scoffed. “No comments on me or my outfit? I dressed so cutely today.”

I took a second to glance at her outfit. I had to admit it suited her well. Skinny blue jeans, high-top shoes, and a black tank top covered by a long plaid shirt. It definitely wasn’t an outfit I’d call cute, but it looked good. Her brown hair was wavy today. A strand of it had drifted across her face as we talked, and she brushed it back behind her ear now.

“Well, you know me,” I said. Then, after a pause, I added, “You are dressed nicely though.”

She looked at me out of the corner of her eyes. I always found that sideways stare attractive, but I’d probably never tell her that. God, I sounded like a love-struck dork.

“Thanks,” she said after a while. “I like your new clothes, too. That coat’s pretty cool.”

I glanced down at the long black coat I’d bought. “Yeah, I love this thing. I’ve wanted to buy it for ages, but I couldn’t afford it.”

“Congratulations on achieving your life’s dreams,” she said with a snicker. “What will you do now that you’ve peaked?”

I rolled my eyes at her and took another draft of my coffee. I couldn’t drink the beverage cold as she did. For me, it always had to be steaming hot. On the other hand, her coffee was black, with nothing to sweeten it. I loved coffee, but I had to have something mixed in. My personal favorite was a white chocolate mocha because I’m a reasonable person. Still, I forgave her for this weird quirk.

“You wanna do something?” I asked. “There’s a movie theater in this mall. They might be playing something good.”

“Nah,” she said. “I’m not really in the mood for a movie.”

“Alright,” I said, and we entered another long and awkward silence. “You lived in Toledo your whole life?”

“Pretty much,” she said with a long sigh. “My parents lived nearby when they passed away, and Master Mikel took me in. I’ve been training as a Reaper since I was a child.”

“Well,” I said, trying to keep the conversation positive. “That explains why you’re so much better than I am. You’ve got more practice.”

“Ha!” she exclaimed. “Even if you practiced as long as me, you’d never be able to beat me.”

“Careful what you wish for,” I said, wagging a finger at her. “You might come to eat those words.”

She rolled her eyes at me again, then drained the last of her coffee. We decided to check out the other stores around the mall, and got up. I could feel my sore muscles complaining as I stretched, but I ignored them. We stopped by a game store first, idly examining the flashy displays they had. I wasn’t much for video games, which was odd for my age. Don’t get me wrong, I was perfectly comfortable with technology. You should see my Facebook sometime. But video games just didn’t do it for me.

“What about you? She asked. “You from Toledo?”

“Nope,” I said quickly. “I’m from Alaska.”

She stopped and stared at me. “Really?”

“Yeah. What, do you think I’m lying?”

“No,” she said unconvincingly. “I’ve just never met anyone from Alaska.”

“Well, now you have,” I said with a laugh. “I’m from the great north of Fairbanks.”

“Fairbanks?” She said, her eyes wide. “That’s a scary coincidence.”

“What?”

“It’s just weird that you’re from Fairbanks,” she said. “Because that’s where the Crucible is this year.”

I thought about that. It didn’t really bother me. In fact, I was kinda happy I could go visit. “Cool. Would be nice to see my old friends again.”

After about ten minutes, we left and went into a records store. I showed a lot more interest this time. I’m a big music nerd, and my taste is pretty wide-spread. Seeing that Marisha was more interested as well, I couldn’t help but grin.

“What’s your favorite kind of music?” I asked her. “And please don’t say country.”

She screwed up her face in distaste. “Eww, no. I’m a rock girl. I thought that would have been obvious.”

“It is,” I said dryly. “But I still hoped you might like more than one genre. Chose to give you the benefit of the doubt.”

“You make it sound like it’s a crime to only like one genre,” she sneered. “What do you listen to, then, genius?”

“I listen to everything,” I said. “I’m not particularly fond of country or rap, but not all of it’s bad.”

We continued to check out the records on the shelves. I’d never owned a record player before, so the format didn’t really appeal to me. Still, I recognized a lot of the cover art and names I saw. Most people my age wouldn’t know the first thing about older music, but I had no problem identifying several of my favorites. Springsteen, Electronic Lights Orchestra, The Jackson Five, and many more were present.

We left the record shop soon after, truly bored now. I thought back to the question I’d asked her after my final lesson. You wanna catch a bite of lunch? Thinking back on it now, I cringed slightly. Such a stupid way to ask. But then again, I couldn’t think of a better way. Besides, she’d agree, right? That was a win in my book.

“So,” I said hesitantly, trying desperately to think up some new subject material. “You got any friends outside the Reaper Clan?”

I could see the corner of her mouth twist in a smirk. “You mean normal people? Nah, they’re too boring to be worth the effort.”

“What about that guy you were dating last year?” I asked. “Paul something?”

I hadn’t actually forgotten the dude’s last name. I just acted that way about people I didn’t like much. And since he’d dated Marisha, I didn’t like him. She turned to look at me with a slight frown as if surprised I’d remember such a small detail. She knew she couldn’t judge me though, not after admitting to having secretly watched me throughout middle and high school.

“Paul was alright at first,” she finally said. “But outside of class, we really didn’t have anything in common. He just wasn’t right for me.”

“Seems fair.”

“He didn’t seem to think so,” Marisha said, her face going somber. “He called me a lunatic when I dumped him. I just laughed him off. After that, I swore that I’d only date someone who understood Reaper life.”

Nice going, idiot. Just bring up some depressing shit that makes her sad. Why not stomp on a puppy to nicely round the day off? I mentally kicked myself. Then, almost as fast as I’d gotten angry with myself, I felt a surge of hope. I was in the Reaper Clan. I understood Reaper life! Did this mean I had a chance?”

“The heart is a fickle thing,” she said with yet another sigh. “It wants what it wants, without the thought of consequence.”

“Who said that?” I asked, distracted from my thoughts.

She shrugged. “I’m not sure who said it originally. I just remember Master Mikel saying it after my troubles with Paul.”

Mikel had comforted her? I had trouble imagining that, much how I couldn’t imagine him with a wife. To me, he was a stern, stubborn master. I remembered more lectures from him than I remembered smiles, because, well, he just didn’t smile. That didn’t make me think less of him, but it was still a fact. But to Marisha, he started to sound like a surrogate father. Maybe that was his role with her from the start.

I looked at Marisha again, while she pretended to be interested in a window display of phone cases to cover the awkward silence. Ever since I’d noticed her late in my sophomore year, she’d been a cool, aloof, unconcerned person. It had never occurred to me that she’d actually have a vulnerable side. Thinking that I should say something consoling, I opened my mouth.

“Marisha,” I began, but she cut me off.

“Well, it’s getting pretty late in the day,” she said brusquely. “I gotta get home for dinner.”

“Oh,” I said, taken aback. “Okay then. See you tomorrow, I guess.”

She was already gone. Feeling a weird mix of embarrassment and shame, I shuffled moodily to the exit of the mall. I wasn’t sure what I’d done wrong there. What if she disliked me now for bringing on that bad reaction? Would she go so far as to not come to the Crucible with me? I shook my head angrily, trying to think more happily. Then I looked at a nearby clock and realized that it was getting late. We’d hung out for more than five hours, and it was well past dinnertime. I stepped out to the sidewalk and hailed a cab.

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