Episode Seven: Stalker: Scene 13

“You talked to him?”

“And I got a fair bit.” I sighed, slumping into the chair opposite Kanesha. “At least I know what I think he wants me to do.”

“What?” She brushed back her hair.

“Convince Loki the world isn’t completely gone to hell in a handbasket.” It made sense after it had percolated. “I feel like I’m looking for good men in Sodom.”

Kanesha laughed. We were sitting opposite each other at lunch. “I’m not sure who you blasphemed there.”

I made a great show of facepalming at her. “It’s true, though. And if that’s what I have to do…I think I can do it. He…may listen to me.”

Why would Loki listen to me?

“Maybe you’re Sigyn.”

My eyes widened and I made what I thought was the sign against the evil eye. “No. I am not. If I was, would Surtur be hitting on me?”

“Good point. You can’t be Sigyn because she’s married.”
Which brought up another possibility, one that had drifted through my mind before. I was saved from having to decide whether to voice it by the bell warning us we had five minutes to bus our lunch and get to class. I grabbed my tray and ran. But that possibility was still in my mind.

I wasn’t going to voice it, and I wasn’t going to…and then I saw him. Martin. “Who’s the new student?” I whispered to somebody else.

“Just moved here from Los Angeles, I think. He’s hot,” the girl added, randomly.

He rather was. And Los Angeles. That was amusing…I had to give him a sense of humor. “I suppose he is, if you like the type.”

Of course, he was. He was trying to be my type, exactly, not helped by how confused I was about what that was.

Great. And at school, I couldn’t even kick his butt. For now, I pretended I hadn’t noticed him and headed to math class.

Math wasn’t my strong point, and wrestling with it claimed much of my attention. I managed not to think about Martin’s presence again until it was time to leave.

Of course, he cornered me at the gate. “How can you stand this place?”

“I’m sure it’s no worse than schools in Los Angeles,” I said for public consumption. Then, in a lower voice. “It’s not that bad.”

“I don’t particularly care what order your presidents came in.”

“They’re not my presidents either.” It felt almost like a truce. But, I also knew that he was trying to show he was willing to go through stuff for me. Including American high school.

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