Chapter Three
"I didn't expect you to be a Tarot guy," the girl smiled, leaning on the other side of the bar. Chris jumped up, spinning to face her. "Chill, dude. I was just lookin' for the girls."
It'd been a month since she'd moved to California, and her fears of she and Paige no longer getting along had been squashed within the first week. They'd went out to dinner, hung around the manor, or her apartment, and had grown closer than they were as kids.
Chris lingered in the background of their friendship, making sly comments under his breath, rolling his eyes at some of the things he'd hear she and Paige talk about, and constantly referring to her as Freckles.
She would've been fine with the nickname, if he didn't always say it in such a condescending tone.
"Shouldn't you be in school?"
"Shouldn't you be at a fortune teller?" She sassed back, uncrossing her arms as she observed the man; he was tense, uptight, and that's something that had grown to annoy her over the past month. Always rushing Paige away, saying it was urgent, being so secretive and cold toward her - it was infuriating. "It's a Saturday, I was looking for Paige since she wasn't at the manor, or Richard's." She shrugged, slowly approaching the man. "What card did you get?"
"That's none of your business."
"Fine," she raised her hands in surrender. "God, you really are one grumpy son of a gun, huh?"
"I'm not grumpy," he scoffed. "Just don't like you that much."
She smirked, sitting down on the barstool in front of his chair. "Fine; I've never really believed in this stuff, but let me pick a card. See how it affects your opinion on me."
"Yeah, no."
"Come on," she smiled. "Don't be a wuss."
Chris furrowed his brows, sitting on the stool across from her, and motioning toward the cards is a fed-up manner. "Fine, close your eyes and pick a card."
Aurelia smirked, closing her eyelids and hovering her hand over the spread out deck; she moved her hand to her right, picking up the first card that touched her fingers, and handing it to Chris with closed eyes. He scoffed, rolling his eyes at how literal she'd taken his instructions, before flipping the card and revealing to himself what she'd just picked.
The Lovers.
"What is it?" She asked, her eyes opened, now, and staring at him with slight concern. He looked like he'd seen a ghost, and his face had flushed slightly, "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, uh. . . pick two more cards."
She did as told, handing them to him the same manor that she'd handed the first one to him. Chris hesitantly flipped them, his jade green eyes widening at the sight; this was not looking too good.
"Okay, so. . . the first one you picked, was The Lovers card; The Lovers represent relationships and choices. Its appearance in a spread indicates some decision about an existing relationship, a temptation of the heart, or a choice of potential partners." He cleared his throat, "That one isn't so bad, especially compared to the second one. . ."
"What're you talking about?" Aurelia questioned, knitting her deep brown eyebrows together in confusion; she almost never believed in this kind of stuff, but the level of seriousness in his tone was freaking her out.
He took a deep breath, flipping the second card to face her. "The Three of Swords. It represents rejection, sadness, loneliness, heartbreak, betrayal, separation, and grief. It's typically a warning sign, to prepare you for whatever is to come, but it's still. . . well, not good." He then flipped the third one toward her, "And, finally: Death. This one is symbolic of the ending of a major phase or aspect of your life that may bring about the beginning of something far more valuable and important; if you resist it, you may experience pain, both emotionally and physically. That one isn't bad unless you make it out to be."
"What. The. Fuck." She muttered, looking at the man with wide-eyes. "Okay, uh, that's enough witchy-stuff for me for, well. . . the rest of my life."
Chris sighed, collecting the cards and setting them aside. "So, uh. . . how're your classes goin', Freckles?"
"Can you stop calling me that?"
"Why?" He asked, furrowing his brows; he watched as she irritably pushed her glasses up the bridge of her button nose. "I think it's fitting."
The teen scoffed, leaning against the bar counter in a relaxed, yet tense, manner; it was odd. It looked as if she were contemplating something. Finally, she turned her head toward him, "I've always hated my freckles. . . got them from my mom."
Chris furrowed his brows, silently asking her to continue, but he saw the hesitation in her eyes, the pain that was slowly surfacing through those golden flecks that he'd caught himself staring at too often within the past month. "Mind elaborating?"
"You have no idea what personal business means, do ya?"
"I mean, you just let me give you a Tarot reading. . . that's already pretty personal."
"Fine," she sighed, spinning the bar stool around to face the counter. She looked at the countertop, fiddling with her ring as her glasses slowly slid back down her nose. "I was put into foster care when I was three," she began, "didn't really know my parents until I hit eighteen. I traveled the country to find them, livin' it up in Florida, with three other kids. All of which are younger than me, by the way. Anyways, I spent a week down there with them, and. . . didn't really like the people that they were. Druggies, gold diggers. . . murderers." She muttered the last part, but Chris had heard it, anyway. "Paige was like the sister I'd always wanted, she was really the only person I considered family. She was my escape from becoming the monster that my parents thought I'd become."
She turned to face him, a sad smile on her lips. "You know, I think this is the longest you've gone without making a smart-ass comment toward me."
Chris chuckled, looking away from the girl for a brief moment, before looking back into her mesmerizing eyes. "You do realize, that you pointing it out, just makes me wanna do it. . . right?"
Aurelia shared a smile with the man, and it was the first time they'd actually had a non-sarcastic moment in the month that they'd known each other. She checked her watch, her smile slowly fading as she noticed the time. "I, uh. . . I gotta get going, I have to clean my place before the landlord shows."
She stood from the stool, about to walk away, when Chris gently placed his hand on her shoulder. She flinched, causing him to retract his hand quickly, before sending her an apologetic smile, "Um, if it's any constellation, I'm glad that you didn't turn out like them."
"Thanks, Shaggy." The pink haired girl smiled, giving him a fist-bump, before exiting the club.
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