Where Angels Fear to Tread

She was in my first hour, bright and early the next morning. Others in the school were bugging her again, that I could see. Her face was twisted into a frown, and she stared at the desk in an attempt not to be annoyed by the swarm of students (mostly guys) who suddenly wanted to get to know her. I took my seat beside her, and smiled.

“Morning.”

Enid looked up, her blue eyes wide with curiosity. “Good morning,” she replied, smiling slightly.

“You seem to be busy this morning.” At my words, Enid looked pained, and rolled her eyes. “Should I loan you a yard stick to keep all the boys away?”

She glared at me. “Shut up,” she muttered softly. “I didn’t ask for this, you know.”

“I know. Which is why I find it amusing.” I chuckled, pulling my books out of my bag as the classroom started to fill. “You’re new. Give them a few weeks and the newness will fade away.”

Enid paused for a moment, considering my words. “So, I’m like a shiny new object. Pretty at first, but I lose my edge over time?”

“Something like that.”

She sighed and gave me an almost sad smile. “I figured. It’s the story of my life.”

Mr. Banner walked into the room before I could reply, leaving me to my thoughts for the rest of the hour. Enid was quiet, keeping to herself, and taking notes. Only Enid would take notes in Mr. Banner’s classes. I currently had the man for three of my six classes, and you learned he had a habit of confusing his classes. You might be in Chemistry and he would be teaching you Biology. Within fifteen minutes, he would straighten himself out, but most ended up asleep, or doodling during those hours. All in all, it was amusing.

I hardly saw Enid for the rest of the day since I only had two hours with her (both of them with Mr. Banner. Good Lord, I loved that man. Old and senile. They make great teachers. Lots of stories to tell), but before she left, I grabbed her arm. “Meet me by your locker after school.”

A curious look crossed Enid’s face. “Any reason in particular?”

“Just meet me there, please.”

I waited for Enid by her locker, grinning as she approached. She raised one of her eyebrows in curiosity. “Ross, I’m not even asking.” I grabbed her wrist in order to keep her from walking on.

“I want to take you somewhere. Anywhere.” I pulled her toward me, startled when Enid tripped over her own two feet, sending her sprawling toward me. I grabbed her before she managed to hit the ground, and was pleased when she looked up, her face red with embarrassment. Her blushes were cute. I had to give her that. “Anywhere, Enid. You name it, I will take you.”

“You owe me for making me trip,” Enid muttered, unconsciously smoothing the wrinkles from her shirt. She looked up at me suddenly, as if deciding where to torture me. “Alright, Mr. Carver. Take me to the mall.”

The mall? After a shopaholic mother and two younger sisters, this should be a piece of cake. “Okay. The mall. What exactly are we going to be doing at the mall?”

“I need winter clothes. I got paid this afternoon.”

“Let me guess, it’s burning a hole in your pocket?”

“How did you ever guess?” Enid gave me a bright grin. “Who knows, Ross. I might even let you treat me to dinner. We will see how this shopping experience goes. Where does my chariot await?”

I laughed, knowing that once she saw the condition of my car, ‘chariot’ would be the last thing that would cross her mind. More like what I had pet named my car - Bucket of Bolts, or BOB for short. Bob and I had a long history, and he was currently the oldest running car in the family. He seemed to only like me, because after he had died on every member of the family, I restored him to what he was now. Really, he only needed a new paint job and some work on the engine.

Yes, I was far too in love with my car. I suppose it was an eros thing. Lucas had an obsession with his as well.

Enid somehow stuffed herself into my car, seeming to ignore the junk around her. “Sorry about the mess. I haven’t cleaned this car out in at least a month and it is in dire need of it as you can see.” I swept my hand toward the backseat, referring to the books, sweatshirts, pants, a laundry hamper, and various McDonalds and other fast food wrappers and bags strung across the seat. The back seat had somehow become my closet. While this did not bother me, I was sure that it would bug others. Enid didn’t seem to mind.

“You forget, I live with a bachelor.” She explained with a shrug. “If it weren’t for me, our entire house would look like this.”

I snorted. “My mother and Alaina have that job. They have their hands full with five men in the house. Thank God Marcus has left.”

“Is he your eldest brother?”

“Marcus is twenty-one and the oldest. He is married, and they are expecting their first baby in June. The twins, Blake and Allen, are almost twenty. They attend Oklahoma City Community College not far from here. I just turned nineteen, and currently attend Southwest High.” I grinned. “Then comes Alaina, she’s fifteen. The baby is Ashe, who will be five in a week.”

An eyebrow went up. “Your parents are busy people.”

“In more ways then one. Ashe was completely unexpected. She isn’t unloved, let me tell you. That little girl has not only her father, but every one of her four older brothers wrapped around that little pinky. I am not kidding when I say I fear for the first boy who expresses an interest in her. Between Marcus and my father, that boy is going to go through every interrogation in the book.”

“Harsh.”

“That’s one word for it.” I threw her a glance to see if she was nervous. She wasn‘t . Of course. Was this girl afraid of anything? I wanted to know about her. “Tell me about your family.”

She hesitated, biting her bottom lip before talking. “I’m an only child I live with my father, Richard. He is a doctor, but hasn’t practiced since I was a little girl. It really sucked when I tried to play hooky in grade school. He always caught me.”

“And your mother?”

Enid smiled sadly. “My mother was beautiful. She was a stage performer until she got pregnant with me. She died when I was very, very little. Like. . Three, I think. I’m not sure. I wish I remembered more of her. I only remember her voice, and that‘s faded over time. Sometimes, I listen to records of her singing. My father tells me that I look like her.”

“She was pretty then.”

It took Enid a moment to let that sink in. She chuckled slightly. “Thanks.” She brushed a stray piece of hair away from her face, turning to look out the window. I didn’t continue the conversation, leaving Enid to her thoughts.

The mall was rather empty for right after school. I found a close parking spot quickly, unlocking the car for Enid to get out. She smiled at me, heading for the doors, and pausing slightly before we entered. “Everything okay?”

“Are you hungry?”

“A little. What about you?” At her nod, I thought of the restaurants that were in Crossroads. “Well, there is a Chick-Fil-A, Subway, Sonic, some Chinese place, a pizza parlor thing, Bonnie’s Popcorn, Gyros, Anne’s Pretzels. . . You name it, it is probably here.

Enid grinned. “Oh rest assured, I will find something.” She entered the mall, and took off in the direction of what I assumed was the food court. While Crossroads was not a small mall, it did not have what you would call a ‘food court’. The various eateries were scattered all throughout the mall.

I paused as Enid zeroed in on the one type of food I had dreaded --- a Chinese buffet. Go figure. I could already feel my stomach cramp unpleasantly, and I slowed in my steps.

Enid noticed my hesitation. She turned toward me, confused. “Don’t you like Chinese?”

“Not the buffet.”

She frowned. “Don’t tell me you are one of those people who are wary of Chinese food. That’s ridiculous.”

I shook my head. “It wouldn’t matter if the buffet was Chinese, American, French, or Italian. I just don’t like buffets.” I could see Enid waiting for my explanation, and I sighed. This was going to be hard to explain. If she didn’t think I was crazy already, she certainly would now. “Buffets are gross to me. I have seen far too many kids sneeze on that glass, heard too many urban legends, know too much of people’s personal hygiene for me to like them. They’re gross. Unsanitary. Yuck.” I shook my head. “Not to mention I got food poisoning from one once.”

Enid blinked, raising one slender eyebrow in amusement. “Ross,” she stated, her voice on the brink of laughter. “Suck it up and get over it. If you knew what went into your food no matter where you eat, you wouldn’t eat anything. I can guarantee it.”

I knew what my mother cooked. And my brothers (sometimes). While it might not be the best, at least I knew where it had been grilled. “My mom cooks things just fine.”

“What if the meat was bad? Or do you have any control over that packaging of the meat? Or the animal which the meat came from?” Enid shook her head. “No.”

“Makes you want to turn vegetarian, doesn’t it?”

As if in answer, Enid’s stomach growled. “If God had intended us to eat plants, He would not have given us an appetite for meat, or the teeth or it. I like my hamburgers, thank you very much.”

“Very insightful, Enid.”

She grinned. “I do try.” She looked toward the Sonic. “I will probably get a Route forty four from there anyway. If you want to eat there or somewhere else, I will give you some change. Coke, no ice, please.”

I turned, shocked at her no ice request. “You don’t like ice in your drinks?”

A blink. “No? Is that okay?” Enid stalled in searching through her purse for money.

“I just find it odd. I order drinks that way too.” I grinned, and she smiled. “It makes the drink too water once it melts.”

“That’s exactly my reason.”

Something tugged at my thoughts. I shook my head, trying to dismiss them. I took the change from Enid, leaving her in charge of what she ordered from there. Though I really did not want to spend another night making offerings to the toilet god, I considered the fact that if I received food poisoning, Enid would as well. I was pleased to see that Sonic sold Barq’s Root Beer, something that I happened to be rather addicted to. I smiled as it became my turn.

“I need two Route Forty Fours.” I asked. “A coke, and a Barq’s Root Beer, please.”

The woman nodded, distracted. At least she managed not to put ice in the cups. As she reached for mine, she looked at me. “A Dr. Pepper?” she asked.

“No, Barq’s Root Beer, please.”

“Dr. Pepper?”

I sighed. “Root Beer.” Good Lord, was this woman deaf? She finally seemed to understand, and placed my drink under the appropriate fountain. I handed her my change, and received my drinks in return. Enid saw my exasperated look as I placed the drinks in front of us.

“Problems at the Sonic?” she asked, her mouth full of noodles.

“Hearing problems, apparently.” I grabbed the chopsticks sitting idly by my plate, ripped open the paper, and dug into my food. The food was hot, and tasted like normal food, so I was not too worried this time around. I had defiantly had worse.

Enid looked happy with her selection (which I discovered was Sesame Chicken, noodles, rice, and Mongolian beef), and ate her lunch happily, with out much conversation. She smiled up at me every once in a while, her cheeks turning red as she did. Finally, she swallowed her last bite, and threw the empty plate into the trash.

Finished with mine as well, I grabbed my empty cup. “I think I’ll get a refill. Do you want one?” Enid shook her head, her mouth full of her fortune cookie. I snorted, and headed toward the Sonic.

“A root beer, please.” I asked, handing my dollar over.

“A Dr. Pepper?”

For the love of Pete, was that the only drink they understood? “I would like a Barq’s Root Beer, please.” I growled in an attempt to keep my frustration from showing.

Enid appeared behind me, holding her cup. “I changed my mind,” she stated, smiling up at me. “A coke, please.” she asked as the lady handed me back my drink.”

“A Coke?” Actually, I think they are parrots.

“Dr. Pepper?” I asked Enid cheerfully, ignoring the death glare the woman at the counter gave me. Hey, don’t glare at me, lady. It is not my fault your hearing aid is failing.

Drinks in hand, we set out for the shopping adventure.

Unlike Alaina, I found Enid was rather conservative with her shopping, although she was a little impulsive. Instead of finding every sexy item of clothing in the store, Enid seemed to be more of a tee shirt and jeans type of girl. It was a nice change from shopping with my mother and sister.

“This would look good on you,” I said, holding up a thin, white, semi hoodie. “It looks comfy, too.”

Enid took the sweater from me, examining it. “Not bad,” she appraised. “You can actually match. My father could not match if his life depended on it. He sent me to school one day in a dark purple shirt and bright orange pants. I could not figure out for the life of me why everyone kept giggling. After that day, I learned how to dress myself. I found that I could dress myself and look better than my father had tried. Honestly, I think I broke his heart, but it was a large price to pay.”

A smile touched my lips. “So I shouldn’t be expecting you to arrive at school in polka dots and pig tails?”

“Not unless I have suddenly developed a case of a dissociative disorder.” With the hoodie stuffed into the shopping cart she was dragging around, it was soon joined by at least three other shirts, two pairs of pants, and a pajama set. She had laughed at my lack of embarrassment in the women lingerie isle.

“Most men would be terrified of this place.”

“Most men do not grow up shopping with Alaina Carver.” I reminded her.

“Is she really that bad of a shopper?” Enid asked, stepping in line behind a little lady bend over her walker.

“Alaina has things in her closet she bought three years ago with the price tags still on them.” It was true. My mother had made this discovery a few weeks ago, and I thought she was going to come unglued. She accused Alaina of some pretty nasty things. Apparently, Alaina’s spending habits were breaking the family.

In defense of Alaina, no one had yet topped Ashe’s expenses. When the doctors at the hospital see you and greet you with the words “What happened to Ashe this time around?”, there has to be a problem. Honestly, we should consider keeping the little girl on a leash. It would be much easier then.

Enid smiled at my description of Alaina. “She sounds a little like my mother used to be. My father said she would come home from the store with dozens of bags in her hands. It drove him up the wall, and he was in constant fear our little family was going to go in to debt. When I was born, he said she used her pregnancy as an excuse to go shopping again.” She smiled softly. “Lord knows I had everything and more when I was born. Shoes, beds, bags, dresses, blankets, toys, --”

“The kitchen sink.”

A laugh. “I would have not been surprised, actually.”

It was true. Enid’s mother sounded a lot like my Alaina. She also sounded very similar to someone my uncle used to date - or so my parents said. They worried that if Lucas had married her, they would be living in a shack down by the river for no other reason but she would have bought them out of house and home.

Women and credit cards equaled trouble.

It was Enid’s turn at the cash register, and I began to think of ways I could make casual conversation about her life without sounding nosey. Favorite movie, favorite song, favorite color, . . Certainly those could be seen as wanting to get to know someone, and not stalkerish.

I threw my plan into action in the car.

“What is your favorite movie?” I drummed my hands against the steering wheel, waiting for her answer. With her love of the opera, I was expecting something along the lines of The Phantom of the Opera, or Rigaletto. She surprised me, however, by blushing and turning her face toward the window.

“You will think I am some silly little girl.”

“I live with Alaina,” I replied, trying to coax it out of her. “Come on, tell me.”

Enid sighed. “Titanic.” She blushed again, and quickly launched into an explanation. “Not because of Leo DiCaprio, I assure you. When I was younger, I had an obsession with the Titanic. I could tell you every little detail about that ship and never grow tired. When the movie came out, I loved it. I am probably the only person who enjoys the second half of the film more than the first. It is where the action is.”

That was different. I took a moment to consider this before moving on. “Favorite animal?”

She gave me an odd look. “What is this, an interrogation?” At my nod, she rolled her eyes. “Wolves. And moose.”

“Moose?”

A small blush grew across her cheeks again. “Yes, moose. I have a stuffed moose collection in my room. No joke.”

I chuckled. “You will have to show me that sometime. What is your favorite song?”

“Completely by Jennifer Day.” Enid replied without missing a beat. “It’s gorgeous. I wish I could sing like her.”

“Favorite band?”

She grinned. “Queen. I love Queen. And of course, any version of The Phantom of the Opera soundtrack is perfectly fine with me. I won‘t complain at all.”

“You need to come by my house sometime,” I told her. “I have the oddest songs on my computer that I do not even know where to begin. Some of them are not even in English.”

I got a strange look from that. “What are they in?”

“Spanish, German, Japanese, Greek, Latin . . You name it, I probably have a song in it. Some are in Hebrew. I also have a lot of Disney soundtracks, thanks to my youngest sister, who happens to be obsessed with such movies. They are fun to watch, though, and even though Blake is her favorite brother, I seem to be the only one who can watch “Finding Nemo” and “The Adventures of Winnie the Pooh” five million times in one day.”

That provoked a laugh from her. “Good Lord. Even my little cousins don’t watch movies quite that much. I take it she likes movies such as Cinderella, The Little Mermaid. . ?”

“Anything with a Princess. That’s my Dad’s nickname for her, and she seems to think she really is.”

Enid smiled. “Ashe sounds cute.”

I grinned. “You will have to meet her someday. She’s a load of laughs. Especially when she’s informing you of stuff that you really never needed to know. She thinks she’s a fortune teller, now. She informed my mother at breakfast yesterday that she is no longer four, she is twenty-one, and her best friend Tina is in jail. We do not know why, but she’s in jail. And when she is let out, we are not to allow her over. Tina is a very bad person.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

I stopped at the school, dropping her off to what I assumed to be her car. Enid glanced up at me, smiling. “Thanks so much for taking me out, Ross.” She said, gathering her bags. “It meant a lot. Even if we’ve only known each other two days.” She grinned. “I think I like you.”

“Do you now?”

“Sure. You’re one of the only boys here who haven’t undressed me with their eyes already. That makes you a good person. I like you.” Enid squeezed herself out of the car, and leaned down with her hand on the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Bright and early.”


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A/N: First off, I greatly apologize for the confusion in Ross' age. It's completely my fault and my lack of editing. When I first started the story, Ross was only seventeen, then I apparently switched it to eighteen, and then nineteen. To clear up any confusion, Ross really IS nineteen years old (he's old for his class. He'll explain that later). I should be going back over them sometime in the next few days to change that - Right now, I'm doing very good to be getting this chapter out. Turns out after four days of being in extreme pain, I have what's called a 'dry socket'. It's where the blood clot in my tooth came out and they are EXTREMELY painful. Once I get that cleared up, and I don't die from my eight hour shift on my first day back at work, I'll change everything. No worries. And for Sara/Osamu fans - The next chapter IS in the works, but since I kinda went braindead on it, it might be just a little while. No worries - I haven't forgotton about it. I promise!! Reviews are love, and I've gotten some great ones so far. Thank you so much guys. You really make me enjoy writing!