EXCEPTional

Ch. 15 (Chance)

*Chance*

All right, I felt kind of bad for leaving Bridget after saying that. But if I didn't get out of there immediately, I would've erupted into laughter and everyone would know I was joking. I wanted to keep this illusion up a little longer, because Bridget's reactions were amusing.

Behind me, I could hear journalists and curious bystanders begin to hound Bridget with questions: "How do you know Chance?" "How long have you been with Chance?" "Was this your first encounter with Chance?" "Will you take him up on his offer?"

I snickered inwardly at the last question I heard, smirking all the while. Bridget will kill me for this later, I thought; but I was entertained, especially since every time I glanced at her, she stood as still as a statue with her mouth gaping open.

I may be murdered later, but seeing that was worth it. Messing with her was definitely worth it.

Giavanne pulled me to the styling chair, currently unaware of the chaos going on around him. "Good, you're here on time. How'd it go?"

"Well," I started, looking over my shoulder briefly.

He finally seemed to take notice of the thundering crowd and gazed at them with furrowed brows. He asked, "What is with this commotion?"

Smirking, I answered shortly, "I brought a guest."

His eyes trained on mine, and a frown pulled at his mouth. "Did you bring her? That flame from your past?"

I shrugged, nonchalant. "Yeah. So?"

He stared accusingly at me. "Chance, this is a very bad idea," he chided in disapproval.

I turned in the chair to face him directly. I inquired, "Do you not like her or something?"

His lips pursed as he considered his response. He told me, "I don't know what kind of person she is, but I do know that spending this much time with her can be dangerous. And you're even showing her off."

Chuckling, I insisted, "I'm not showing her off. If anything, I'm showing myself off to her."

"So you're trying to impress her?" he rephrased, an eyebrow arching.

"No," I drawled, debating. "Not really. I just . . . wanted her here."

He studied me a moment, a scowl still on his lips. But then he released a sigh and the frown relaxed. "All right," he allowed. He glanced around and yelled over the roar of the questions, "We'll never get anything done if we just stand around all day!"

That put things into motion, and people began to fiddle with my hair and face. Clothes were shoved into my hands, and once I changed into them, they fiddled with those, too.

Meanwhile, Bridget stood to the side, clutching her purse and avoiding eye contact. She looked severely out of her element. Normally, she was a pretty outgoing person, but surrounded by people who took physical beauty quite seriously seemed to put her on edge. But she wasn't afraid to look at me, and every time she did, she gave me her most murderous glare that screamed, "I hate you" and "I will kill you."

When I'd simply smile in response, the look in her eyes darkened. Honestly, it did frighten me a bit, and it made me worry she'd never agree to hang out with me again while I was here. And I did enjoy spending time with her-she was like a breath of fresh air from my regular life.

Before I was finished being fiddled with, Giavanne disappeared briefly. When he returned, he looked pretty irked. He stood beside me and growled, "Remember Satan's Spawn?"