Bitten. V1. C3 X

#-CHAPTER THREE-

Peace With The Living W

‘ HAT WE HAVE NEXT?’ ASKED OWEN, PULLING himself onto the graffitied bench. Candice lounged backwards and picked up his heavy bag with unnatural ease. With a quick flick of her wrist, she threw the crumpled up timetable at him. Owen only quickly glanced at the bit of paper, than he pulled a face. “Next we’ve got a period of... French! Damn, I forgot that it was today Madame Thomasset was back. And knowing Candy, she is going to want to go; she’d love to try. And she’s probably better than me, considering she’s perfect at everything.’ Stifling a grin, Candy leaned forwards, towards Owen, and called out, ‘Well what do we have then?’ Owen grinned in spite of himself and said, ‘Would you skive again if I asked you really nicely?’ She pretended to mull it over, then pulled a face at him and said, ‘Nope,’ with her mouth popping on the ‘p.’ Owen just groaned, ‘But you’re meant to love me!’ he said, pouting out his lower lip. ‘Yes I do Owen, however not that much,’ she teased him playfully.

When she was standing next to him, she agilely pulled herself onto his lap. ‘Please, please, please, please, please, please,’ he started. She stared into his eyes, unleashing the full force of her smouldering turquoise eyes. Owen looked stunned, but then pulled her face slightly closer to hers. Candice took a breath in, knowing that she wouldn’t be breathing in, for the next minute or so, and then pulled her face even closer to his. ‘Please,’ she breathed, her lips so close to his, she could see the few fine freckles that were spread across his nose. Instead of replying Owen just moved his lips closer and brushed his lips with hers. She heard his heart accelerate, and she felt like hers had just been jump started. Instead of breathing in, she moved her face closer to his and pressed her ice cold lips, harder to Owen’s warm lips. After a few seconds of them like that, she pulled away slowly and laughed quietly under her breath. She held out her hand, and she begun to lead him out of the basketball court, in the direction of the main building with the promise of French. About two minutes later both Candy and Owen walked into the class room late, as per usual. When they stumbled through the door, everyone’s eyes glanced over Candice’s eccentric outfit. They’d all become so used to her weirdness, that hardly anything about her shocked them anymore. All Humans felt compelled to keep staring at her because of her beauty Owen didn’t like that. However Madame Thomasset wasn’t used to Candice. Her eyes very nearly popped out of her socket in surprise when she saw what Candice was wearing. It was a long flowing black and purple tie-dyed gothic dress.

The back was laced up as a corset, yet she managed to pull it off without looking slutty. ‘Not another one,’ thought Madame Thomasset, ‘Girls like her, never learn good French skills.’ Candy felt shocked for a second, than she became angry. Never learn good French? In the eighteen hundreds, she’d lived in France. As a matter of fact Candice’s French was more probably better than Madame Thomasset’s. Before Candy and Owen walked to the back of the class room, to their normal seats, Candice spoke in a clear voice, which filled every corner of the tiny, damp French room. ‘Bonjour, je suis très heureux de voir que vous avez décidé de revenir et de nous enseigner. Je suis très egar pour en savoir plus sur la France, la langue, les gens - même de l'histoire.’ (Hello I am very pleased that you decided to come back and teach us. I am very eager to learn more about France, the language, the people - even the history.) Madame Thomasset looked too shocked to say anything to her, yet managing to choke a sentence out in a strangely accented English, ‘You ‘ave an amazeeng accent young ladée.’ ‘Merci,’ Candice spun around and walked to the back of the class next to Owen. She got her French books out of her bag and put them neatly on her desk, then with everyone’s eyes still glued to her (even the teachers) she said gleefully, ‘Carry on,’ She placed her hands on the top of her books and nodded toward the front. All eyes averted to the flustered Madame, as she begun shuffling around bits of paper on her desk.

After an extremely uneventful lesson, in which everyone managed to copy Candice’s answers, they were dismissed for their next lesson. The next lesson was music. It was one of Candice’s favourite lessons. She didn't love it because she was the best - it wasn’t because the teacher was fit, or nice - in fact he was the opposite - Mr Lewis; a fat balding man, with a short temper and full of worthy-ofgetting-the-piss-taken-out-of threats - but that was why Candice loved the lessons. As she walked in she said, ‘What up sir?’ before he could answer her question with a detention, another twenty seven pupils entered into the small cramped the Music block. As usual, it took Lewis twenty minutes of shouting his constant threats before anyone took the slightest notice. When he had the semi-attention of the class he said, ‘When the register comes around you must sign it - or a detention. So who here can tell me the difference between an acoustic guitar and an electric?’ When he saw no one would answer, he scanned the top of everyone’s heads, and chose the pupil that looked like they were paying the most attention, and also the one who he happened to dislike the most... ‘Candice?’ he asked, with a sigh. ‘Yes Sir?’ ‘What is that answer to the question I asked the class?’ A grin crept across her face, her eyes wide and cheerful as she swung her chair back onto two legs. ‘Sir, if you don't know the difference between an electric and an acoustic by now should you really be teaching me music?’ A outbreak of sniggering spread across the class, while Lewis’ eyes just narrowed. After about a minute and a half, he gave up and began blinking ferociously in the opposite direction that Candy was in.

When he finally found his voice again he said in a voice slightly in awe of the students in front of him, ‘Listen to me, young lady. Because you dress differently, doesn’t mean…’ he trailed off into silence under Candice glare. ‘What d’you mean about my dress sense?’ she asked. Candice sat there, she cocked her head to the side, and her turquoise eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. ‘Are you going to let me play? Or are you going to try and teach me Twinkle Twinkle Little Star like the rest of the class?’ she didn’t even wait for him to answer. Unaware the class was staring up at her, she effortlessly picked up the guitar that looked the most in tune and she pulled herself up onto the teachers desk and began to play a soft, mellifluous tune which enchanted the entire class. Candice grinned, as soon as she had caught Owen’s eyes she began to change the song she was playing. Her eyes sparkled mischievously as she began to change the song. The temp of the lullaby got faster, and then a few of the chords began to change, then it slowly began to get deeper and lower. Then all of a sudden the song changed abruptly and Owen thought he was the only one who recognised “I Wanna Dead Beat You!” by the Night Marchers. She finished playing, after a minute or so. She slowly put the faded wooden guitar back down on the dirty green carpet and said to him evenly, ‘May I go now?’ Candy asked Mr. Lewis, almost daring him to say otherwise. He nodded mutely. ‘Owen?’ she called out enquiringly when she paused at the heavy wooden door, but when she spun round to ask him if he was coming with she was startled to see that he was actually behind her, whispering in her ear, ‘You think I would miss a chance to ditch Music?’ ‘Why don’t we just ditch today?’ she asked, skipping in to

the basketball court. Owen laughed and said, ‘Where’d we go? We can’t hang in school and my home’s off limits with my mum being there…’ he trailed off. It was apparent that the idea of spending the rest of the afternoon with Candice, felt like a great idea to Owen, but he couldn’t see how he could. ‘We can just go to mine. Don't think anyone’s home’ she shrugged, unconcerned about what would happen if any member of her family was home. Everyone knew that their father figure was a lecture at university and often worked unpredictable hours, while Jada was a A&E (Accident & Emergencies) doctor and she worked three nights a week and four days a week. ‘What if they’re home?’ he asked her, wrapping his arm around her waist. Candice murmured something distractedly, while she was texting someone, ‘Er well we fabricate a paper,’ ‘That really sounds like a great idea, and I would love to participate, but I have no idea what fabricate means.’ ‘I meant invent a paper like I dunno - a SOC paper due and they’ve given us the afternoon off.’ Candice phone vibrated and she slid it up as soon as she had finished talking to Owen, he read the text over her shoulder; “Meet u at the b-ball court? B der in 5min? Think M&D home wiv S&O, c ya there J X.’ ‘Sorted,’ she said sliding her phone it down cheerfully. Three and a half hours later, Candice and Owen were sitting in her mammoth garden, they both had their feet dangling in the stream that wove through their garden and in and out of the surrounding forest.

‘So you were adopted?’ Owen asked her apprehensively as he felt her stiffen around him, but she spoke. That was random, but since he was cute, it really didn’t matter. ‘Yeah I was adopted,’ she said shrugging, ‘,when I was about twelve? I’m not that sure, but Carlyle and Jada were already taking care of Evelyn, Oliver and Jasper. Steph met with Oliver when she was adopted about three years back.’ ‘Do you remember your real family at all?’ Owen asked curiously. Candice only shook her head sadly, her eyes filled with what suspiciously looked like tears. Owen instantly felt bad that he had make her cry, ‘You don't have to tell me Candy - honestly. Sorry I will shut up now.’ ‘No, its ok,’ she said back, thinking of ways to word her answer so they she wouldn’t be lying to him - not telling him the complete truth. ‘My father either died of left when I was young - I can’t remember him that much, but my mother always said he was an alcoholic, like her,’ She scratched at the ground bitterly with a stick. ‘My er mum died when I was about ten, just after giving birth to my youngest sister,’ she smiled slightly, ‘At least I don't have to lie to Owen about that,’ she thought sourly. ‘My older sister - Darcy - died just before I was adopted when she was about nineteen - twenty. She was taking care of us until then.’ Owen sympathetically, wrapped his arms around her. ‘She was taking care of me, my only little brother Fagan and my two little sisters Lydia and…’ she trailed off and if he didn’t know any better he thought she’d forgotten her other sister’s name - but Candice wouldn’t do that - would she? Candy shifted uncomfortably and moved her eyes away from Owen back to the shallow little stream. Owen feeling like he should say something stayed silent

until Candy got up slowly and walked with Owen back to the car.