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Crushing On The Geek (Crushing on You 4)

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“Whatever.”

Tamara looked at Hayden out of the corner of her eye wondering where was the right to exist now? She bit her tongue to stifle laughter that threatened to bubble over her lips.

“Anyway, let's get started, guys,” Greg said.

Tamara watched her team mates one by one leaving various offerings of small candies, little figurines, flowers, and other various things. Cindy left a full bag of caramels and before Sir Bedivere Greg sat a package of three caramel candy apples. After they left their offering each of them collected their things and left. Tamara noticed that none of them looked at Sir Bedivere as they left. Their eyes were purposely diverted from him as if they feared that the knight statue would be too bashful to claim his offering if they were watching.

“Do you believe this?” Hayden asked once he and Tamara were alone in the room.

“I don't know what to think. It's odd, but I think it's nothing more than a superstition,” she shrugged picking up her backpack, “Even a lot of sports teams have them.”

“So they're borrowing from the jocks?” Hayden asked, examining each of the offerings in turn.

“No, it's a lot older than that,” Tamara arched, an eyebrow and shoved her hand into her purse. Usually, she carried something sweet in case she needed a pick-me-up in between classes. Today her stash was empty.

“Want one?” Hayden asked, cutting through the hard plastic packaging of the candy apples with a pair of scissors.

“I don't think we should bother that stuff,” she said.

“Why not? There's two of us, that would still leave one for the janitor,” Hayden said, pulling the first one out and offering it to Tamara. Her hand shook as her fingers wrapped around the wooden stick that was speared into the middle of the fruit.

“Go, on,” Hayden said, “Unless you think he poisoned them.”

“Nah, he wouldn't want to kill off Sir Bedivere,” Tamara said and slowly sank her teeth into the apple. Her taste buds were instantly overwhelmed by chocolate and caramel and then by the juicy sweetness of the bright red apple underneath. The juice dribbled from the corners of her mouth and onto her chin before she wiped it away with the sleeve of her hoodie.

“These are good,” she nodded taking another bite.

“Exactly. So why waste them on a janitor?”

Tamara's skin gave rise to more goosebumps with every bite she took.

“Crap!” she said, throwing the core and the stick into the trash can, “My mom doesn't like to wait! I've got to go! See you tomorrow!”

Chapter Four

The red numbers of the digital clock across the room told Tamara it was three minutes past midnight, but she was still unable to sleep. She turned her pillow over to the colder side and nuzzled her face into it. The hair on the back of her neck was standing up and every time she closed her eyes she saw the black empty eyes of Sir Bedivere staring back at her. Tamara couldn't shake the silly image from her head, except, it didn't feel silly.

A statue can't eat, Tamara reminded herself. Sir Bedivere had no use for what we took and we did leave one for the janitor or whoever comes in and eats the offerings. We weren't stingy. It's not like we stole anything. Tamara bit her lip.

Great, now I'm lying to myself she thought as she turned her pillow over again. Why wouldn't the damn thing just stay cold? She flopped onto her back looking up through the dark at the ceiling. She was going to have to tell Greg what they did, because no matter what Hayden said, it was theft.

Tamara shivered under the blankets. October was cooler this year than it ever had been in her memory. Her mom lived by the iron fisted rule of not running the heat until November third, so until then she was just going to have to tough it out. Comforted to know that her anxiety was about nothing more than having allowed herself to be convinced to take what wasn't hers, Tamara wiggled under the blankets and fell asleep with her cheek pressed to the cool side of her pillow.

During the early morning hours Tamara jolted awake, sitting straight up before jumping to her feet. Her body was tensed for a fight, eyes straining to find the source of her anxiety, and ears straining to listen to the distant sound that had woken her. The sound of small wings fluttered and batting against a hard surface again and again.

“It's a moth,” Tamara said out loud, sitting down cross legged on her bed, “Or a June bug.”

Tamara startled awake several more times before her alarm clock sounded at five thirty. It was an hour drive to the school that was hosting the event, in the next town over and Tamara was supposed to meet Hayden for breakfast at seven before meeting up with the rest of the team at eight.

She splashed her face with cold water trying to chase away the morning fog and the half-waking dreams her mind refused to let go of. When she was done in the bathroom Tamara returned to her room and checked her window for the corpse of the bug or moth that had been trapped the night before. The window pane was empty, both inside and out.

“Must have gotten away,” Tamara said, turning towards her closet.

After stepping into her favorite long denim skirt and a red sweater she examined her reflection in the mirror hanging on the back of her bedroom door. Her eyes were blood shot and looked like she needed toothpicks to hold her eyelids up. She stepped closer to the mirror to apply her foundation. An inch below her eyes her reflection was blurred by two tiny sets of hand prints.

“What the?” Tamara said and took a step back.

She blinked a few times and pinched her arm.



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