The After School Secret {ON HIATUS}

Chapter Three

Chapter Three

 

I walked shyly behind Faun, trying to hide my face behind her back.

She came to a stop suddenly, forcing me to run into her slightly.

"Hello, Kristen. Faun." A gruff voice called to us, most likely Oliver's.

"Oliver." Faun blankly replied, confirming my guess that it was Oliver.

Faun spun around, gripping my shoulders and forcing me in front of her.

I closed my eyes childishly; if I can't see them they can't see me, right?

"Open your eyes, Kristen." Faun commanded, placing a hand on my shoulder for support.

"No." I replied stubbornly, refusing to obey.

"Do you want me to get Mr. Taylor?" She countered, making my eyes shoot open before she had the chance to yell for him.

A low chuckle came from across from me. I followed the noise with my eyes, finally resting on a man in his mid-twenties.

Oliver.

Honestly, I had expected him to look different. The picture I had of him in my mind was a middle-aged man, his hair balding and his stomach protruding greatly with the signs of a beer-belly. This man was nearly the opposite.

His beach blonde hair was curly, just long enough to cover the top of his head. Large muscles bulged from his arms, showing off his strength. You could clearly see his toned body through his plain white t-shirt, which his smug expression showed he was proud of.

He smirked before stating, "Ah, Faun. Although it's lovely to see you again, I really need to call my trainee, who seems to be missing."

Faun scowled at him before roughly grabbing my arm and forcing me back to the rec room.

"That little prick! The nerve he has, coming to MY space and insulting me! On dolzhen prosto goret' v adu!!" She fumed, dragging me outside to her car.

I was about to ask whether we would still train, but decided better of it seeing as it would probably just set Faun off even more.

 

 

 

The entire ride home Faun was fuming. She sped nearly twenty miles over the limit- it's a miracle we didn't get pulled over- and mumbled angry words the entire fifteen minute drive. When I simply suggested that she pull over and let me drive, she proceeded to babble Russian curse words to me angrily, most likely saying how she could drive just fine.

As we pulled into the small apartment driveway we have called home for the past three years, Faun was no longer fuming but even worse. She was tired.

A tired Faun is worse than an angry Faun.

A simple misunderstanding of words can set her into a fit during which she'll burst into tears and hide in her room, not coming out until she's fully rested. This can prove to be a problem seeing how we need to leave the apartment at 7:30 in order for me to arrive to school on time.

So basically, you could say I was treading in a lake full of sharks tonight.

"Hey, Faun?" I asked her from where I was perched in the kitchen.

"What?!" She angrily snapped back.

My eyes widened a fraction before shrinking again as I reminded myself to be careful with my words.

"Would you like me to make you dinner?" I questioned her in my most innocent voice.

I knew I hadn't made the right decision as she stood up suddenly, knocking down the chair she was positioned in just a minute ago.