“No.”
“What do you mean, no? This girl likes Novella. She’s her best friend at this point. They need to get to know each other. Novella doesn’t have any friends, so this is her one and only shot. You know how she is around others.”
“I understand the dinner part, sure, but who has a sleepover on a Monday into a Tuesday? That doesn’t even make any sense! Not to mention that Novella was late for her shift today. You know how much that ticked me off… but then I saw the girl behind her…”
“If her parents will allow it, then it’s fine by me. I can drive Monticlaire to the high school in the morning. Also, suck it up. It’s only her second time being late to her shift,” Nicole paused.
“You really did scare Monticlaire. You were never good at making first impressions, Walton.”
“Fine, fine. I’ll accept it. However, the real question is… does she already know about…
us?”
“No… at least, I can’t tell. Hopefully Novella hasn’t told her yet. She does have that prosthetic arm…”
“Monticlaire doesn’t seem harmful… do you think we can trust her?” Nicole bit her lip.
“I think so.”
-~-
“Wow, Mr. Nook! These patty melts really are delicious!” Monticlaire exclaimed, taking another bite of hers. I giggled myself, eventually taking mine up in my hand and biting a piece out of it.
“Of course! They’re pretty much the one thing I can cook to perfection every single time,” Mr. Nook spoke with a smile.
“How do you get them to be so soft yet so delectable?” the girl questioned, sipping down a milkshake that my mother prepared.
“Ah, but that is only family trade, my dear Monticlaire. Maybe Novella will tell you one day… if I decide to teach her how to make them!” Mr. Nook’s laugh boomed at the dinner table, causing everything to hoot as well. I shifted awkwardly in my chair, offering up a small chuckle.
“These milkshakes are perfect as well! How come you don’t sell them at The Nook, Mrs. Nook?” the mother wandered back into the living room just to answer this question.
“Well, we’ve been thinking about it for a while. I believe that once profits go up a little bit, and we can start to afford extra ice and milk on a regular basis to make them, we could do it!” Monticlaire grinned as she took another bite of her patty melt, finishing it off rather fast.
“Now, Monticlaire, you were talking to me about something earlier in the break room. It was prom, was it?” my mother said, making me drink my milkshake a little slower.
“What’s going to be going on there?” my mother asked.
Monticlaire anxiously scratched her head. “Ah, well, since it’s going to be in this big ballroom, there’s going to be lots of dancing, for sure.”
“They’re going to feed you, right?” Mr. Nook questioned, setting down his milkshake. “Of course! I’m sure there’s going to be finger foods there.”
“Hmm. I might have to cook something and bring it there,” he responded.
“They’d probably like that! Anyway, there’s a dance and food, and that’s probably going to be it, for the most part,” Monticlaire stared down at her plate. I could tell that she was uncomfortable. I had to jump in.
“…and you were saying that you want to take me, right?” I briefly commented. Mr. Nook frantically turned to Mrs. Nook, who was standing there happily.
“Y-Yes… if I’m allowed to, of course,” she murmured. This caught a quick glance from Mr. Nook.
“Interesting,” Mr. Nook said, crossing his arms. “I didn’t know it was like that.” A small wave of heat could be felt throughout the room.
“Well of course it’s like that, Walton. What did you expect prom to be, a birthday party? It’s a fun event for teenagers,” my mother said as she started to clear the table.
“No, I wasn’t thinking that. I know it’s a dance and all of that other stuff,” he peered at me, then back to Monticlaire. “I just thought that a boy and a girl had to go together.”
I gripped my cup harder, knowing that my father was onto something. However, when I went to put it down, it stuck to my hand.
Oh no… I melted the cup onto my hand… c’mon, get off…!
Trying not to be as awkward as possible, I continued to hold the cup in my hand anyway. “No, it’s not like that at all. Teenagers tend to go with whoever to prom, whether it be
with friends or a date, for example. It’s honestly who they feel comfortable going with,” my mother proclaimed, heading into the kitchen.
“Sure… we’ll see about that. You two are dismissed to do whatever. I’ll be in the bedroom,” Mr. Nook concluded, standing up and walking upstairs. Monticlaire and I heaved out a big sigh, leaning back in our chairs. I tried to wiggle the cup from my hand once, and it finally came off. Ugh. Stupid powers.
“Do you want to go up into my room? Or do you want to watch something down here?” I asked, releasing a quiet yawn.
“Let’s go upstairs, I want to see your room. I bet it’s bigger than mine,” Monticlaire giggled. I scoffed and rolled my eyes, uttering out a quick “You wish.”
Scurrying up to my room, I set aside some things so that there was space on the floor for Monticlaire to sit. However, I did the same to my bed, so that she had a fair choice.
“Well, there’s my TV, and my laptop on my desk, and here’s my bed. Oh, there’s also a bookshelf. Tada. My room.”
Monticlaire grinned with delight, wandering over to my small bookshelf. She snagged one of the books that laid atop of it, flipping through the pages until ultimately shutting it.
“You must not be a big reader. Do you want to watch TV?” I said, sliding slowly onto my bed. With my back against the wall, I used my remote to click on my TV anyway, so that we weren’t just sitting in silence.
“I’m not, honestly. The number of books that they give us in school to read really dulled down my interest in them. Don’t worry though, I still pick one up every now and again,” she sighed, crawling onto the bed next to me and paralleling my position.
“What do you want to watch?” “It doesn’t really matter.”
We sat there for a few moments while I clicked through channels. I also turned the volume up on the TV a small bit. My mother and father could probably hear it from their room, but I didn’t worry about it too much.
“Does your dad really control you?” Monticlaire blurted out, attempting to start a conversation.
I blinked, but didn’t hesitate. “No, not really. He’s just all about business. It’s a family thing to him. I wouldn’t blame him for acting that way.”
“Do you think… he’ll let us go to prom together?” I looked off to the side, starting to blush.
“I think he will… he just doesn’t understand the difference in concept. I don’t even think he went to his own prom,” I thought for a few moments.
If my powers are as prominent as they are now, then his must have been flaring… However, he probably had more control than I did at the time.
What about my mom, then? Oh man, I can imagine it now… she probably froze solid on the dance floor. Or maybe she was off to the side. That’s probably how I’ll be.
How did they live their lives with these… curses? How with I live with this curse. Hot in one hand, cold in the other?
I hate these powers so much… they just ruin everythi—
“Novella. You’re blanking on me,” Monticlaire said, reaching for my hand. She grasped it in mine. Her prosthetic hand felt normal, despite it being… not normal. I started to sympathize with the girl. She was different in the same area—and so was I.
“Sorry Claire, I didn’t mean to get lost in my thoughts,” I suddenly raised my left hand to my mouth.
“I-I didn’t mean to call you Claire either!” I exclaimed, blushing even more. Monticlaire laughed, her hair bouncing up and down as she did so.
“No no, it’s totally fine. You can call me Claire if you want to. I like Monticlaire,” she paused to scoot closer to me. “But I like the way you say Claire a little bit more.”
I didn’t know what to say. I looked to realize that we were still holding hands. Finally, I mustered up the strength to say something.
“Okay then… I guess I’ll call you Claire then.” I could feel my hand getting hotter and hotter.
The one she was holding.
Preparing to freak out, Monticlaire suddenly leaned in closer to me. What was she doing? Heat slowly began to fill the room.
Her face was getting closer and closer to mine. I didn’t know how to react. Both of my hands were flocculating in temperature.
The TV was blaring. “Claire…”
Her lips were getting nearer to mine.
Wait... no…
Unexpectedly, a sound of a door opening. More heat flooded into the room.
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