Ivy Bathory

[24] : MV Agusta F4CC

"It's forbidden...to love the devil's making...
Yet somehow, she draws me in..."

* ** ** ** **

Kent's POV

"Is she still not talking to you?"

I sigh, shoving another book into the shelf. "No. She doesn't even want an explanation!"

Tom clicks his tongue in disappointment. "Typical of her. I bet she could give you the cold shoulder for a few more years. Maybe a decade or two."

He was right. Clara was exactly like that. If things didn't necessarily go her way, then she became a moody person. She'd do all she could to push a person out of her life. She was stubborn and immature about most things. She acted like a pouty five year old kid.

"Maybe I'll try talking to her after school." I suggest again, pulling my bag higher up my shoulders and walking into the Chemistry Section.

Tom remains on my tail, holding a dozen books in his arms. I help him when I notice the heavy exhaustion on his face, removing and carrying some myself. "Maybe you should. I'm tired of having her put all her motherly attention on me as a away of ignoring you."

"Careful." I warn, nodding my head towards an enormous book he almost tripped on. He clumsily skips over it.

"I mean, why is she so worked up over this." Tom continues. "It can't be because you're Ivy's personal tutor."

My head falls down, casting away to the woody floor in guilt as I play with the bracelet that still wraps around my wrist like glowing evidence. I'd managed to tell them both of the situation I'd somehow gotten myself into, but I still hadn't revealed most of everything. Like how I'd also become Ivy's personal sex toy, or how I'm doing all this because there is unfolded truth about Abby's disappearance with the Bathory girl. I found it hard to spill those two facts to my only friends. I had this idea that they wouldn't understand it one bit. I, myself, didn't understand why I was doing all this instead of trying to find an easier way.

"Maybe she's jealous." Tom curiously goes on. "I mean, she's the only girl you give your attention to, maybe this change is making her feel left out."

I shake my head. "No. It's not that." I sigh, helping him stack back the books into place. "We promised each other we'd stay away from Ivy. She probably hates that I went against that."

"Or she just didn't want you to lie about it." He adds. "Maybe she wanted you to tell her what was going on immediately."

Maybe.

"I don't know, Tom." I frown when I notice he isn't putting the books in alphabetical order. "She's Clara. She can be complicated at times."

"That much I believe." He pushes his huge round glasses up his nose, fixing me with his unnerving hazel eyes. "Are you going to tell me why your Ivy's tutor? I mean this is Ivy Bathory we're talking about. No one messes with her and she doesn't mess with anyone. Why would you entangle your life with hers?"

I fiddle with the small book in my hands, running my fingers along its spine and studying the archaic looking pages. "I told you, Tom. It's nothing to worry yourself about. I'm fine."

He's brows fall down, he looks away for a little moment, placing another book into the shelf. "So will you at least tell me how its going with her.  Is it hard to...you know?"

She tasted like of heavenly sweetened cherry wine.

"Uh..." I clear my throat. "Good. It's good. Not bad."

"Really?"

Yes, it's definitely great. "Mm hmm."

"She hasn't threatened to gouge your eyes out and serve them out to her man eating dogs yet?"