Intrigue: The Night Muse Trilogy

  Chapter 12: Flocked Up Movie Night

  Thrace’s constant teasing about The Incident grated on my nerves so much that I finally took Rafe’s suggestion to heart from the pool party. I decided that I would do the traditional date night on Friday with Thrace, but on Saturday, Jazz, Key, and I were hanging out without the guys. These weekend plans were also caused by the fact that Thrace wanted to go to a party on Saturday thrown by a senior that was well known for his epic events—usually resulting in police intervention. I guess his grounding was now over. When Thrace pulled up to my door for Friday date night, there was still some tension left over from the “you go your way, and I’ll go mine” plans for Saturday night. As I got in his car, my hopes were not set real high for a pleasant evening. But then, he pulled out a box with a little piece of paper inside that said Step 5: Kissing on Lips: No Tongue.

  I laughed as I looked at Thrace’s hopeful expression. “You really want to get past this one quickly, so it is back to business as usual.”

  Thrace leaned over before lightly kissing me on the lips. He finally said in dramatic whisper just in case my dad could hear him, “You have no idea!”

  I laughed again, gave him a peck on the lips, and said, “So what’s on the agenda, Jeeves?”

  Thrace seemed a little hesitant to tell me where we were heading. He finally announced, “Since next weekend is gonna be all about you for your birthday, I thought you wouldn’t mind heading down south to go to the Milan Dragway.”

  I smiled at his arm-twisting attempt. Thrace loved muscle cars and drag racing. As soon as he turned 18 and he had the money, he would be on the track at Milan for a true test run. Until then, he and his buddies loved heading down to Milan Dragway for any type of event. Thrace had said many times what kind of crazy world it was that the birthplace of the Big 3 didn’t have their own dragway since the Detroit Dragway/The ‘Dirty D’ was closed in 1998.

  I raised an eyebrow at him and announced, “Only if you have brought me earplugs and only if we get some greasy burgers and fries on our road trip.”

  A big smile spread across Thrace’s face as he tossed me a package of earplugs and turned on a really loud Def Leopard song as he pealed out of my driveway. It was only about a 30-minute trip down to Milan, but with numerous 80s hair band songs later, it felt much longer. Thrace was completely pumped up by the time we got there. I had a pretty good time people watching, and I managed to find at least one sweeeeettttt mullet—both male and female. (If only I could include a picture section in this book!)

  The next day after karate class Jazz, Key, and Thrace decided to join Rafe and I as we headed to the DUA. Something was still up with my mod squad. As we walked in the GAR, Dr. A greeted us and sent my friends up to the research lab, but he asked me to remain behind. He said since I had been volunteering longer than my friends that he thought I might like to go on a scouting trip. I enthusiastically agreed, but he downplayed the trip by letting me know that it was just a preliminary drive by with pictures and note taking. My enthusiasm remained undimmed as I raced outside to catch my ride.

  As I flew out the door and came skidding to a halt, Delian came pulling up in a brand new Black Dodge Charger. It fit him to a tee. As I was doing my usual gawking, he quickly came around the car, opened my door for me, and hustled me in as if he was afraid I wouldn’t go.

  Once he was back in the car, he looked at me solemnly and said, “Thanks for coming with me Calliope. I really appreciate your help.”

  I did my stuttering routine again as I tried to get out a simple question. “Where…where…..are we going? Dr. A forgot to tell me.”

  Delian gave me a knowing smile as he clued me in to our destination, “We’re heading out to Belle Isle.”

  A slight groan escaped from me as I remembered the beautiful island in the middle of the Detroit River that was the most frequent destination for school field trips. It had a conservatory, nature center, and rich history, which bored elementary students that just wanted to run out and play in its open spaces and wooded trails. Belle Isle, which was primarily owned by the City of Detroit, was struggling to survive with some of its previous showplaces falling into disrepair much like the rest of Detroit. As we got older, Belle Isle had become one of those romantic places to take a date, which pretty much defined it as being one of the last places I wanted to be alone with Delian. I know of at least five girls that asked their dates to go with them to the back to school dance on Belle Isle (and at least a dozen girls in the high school that lost their virginity somewhere on Belle Isle). He seemed to, as usual, sense the direction of my thoughts as he commented, “Alone on a deserted island with me—sounds like your idea of heaven.”

  I quipped back, “Or torture. And first of all, it is not totally deserted. Second, the island has a bridge, so I have already come up with at least two ways to escape. Where are we going on Belle Isle anyway?”

  He glanced at me as he weaved his way through traffic and headed to the MacArthur Bridge that would take us over to the island. “Well, first we will have a little picnic by the fountain and casino (not gambling casino—a meeting place casino), then we are going to get pictures of the Aquarium. We might team up with the city to see what the possibilities are for renovation.”

  As we headed over the bridge, I finally was able to get picnic panic out of my head as I said, “Ixney on the picnic, I am here to work not be wooed.” Unfortunately, my stomach chose that exact time to growl, so I knew I was fighting a losing battle.

  Delian gave me his sarcastic eyebrow raise then said in no uncertain terms, “No picnic…no work…I’m hungry, and it is time for lunch. You can watch me eat if you want. I promise that there are no roses or champagne in the picnic basket.”

  By the time he pulled into the casino, I was ready to jump out just to get away from his all too potent personality, looks, and pheromones. Apparently, our chemistry was much more powerful than I have previously given it credit for. There was something about being in a small, enclosed space with Delian that was playing havoc on my system. As soon as I got out of the car, I took several deep breaths to clear my system of his scent. By the time I turned back around, he had already pulled a picnic basket and blanket out of the trunk.

  I was planning to sit quite a distance away from Delian as we had our lunch, but I couldn’t judge the size of the blanket. As we started to walk toward the open grassy area that looked toward Detroit, I was finally able to speak again, “That better be a big blanket.”

  Delian gave me an amused look as he drawled, “Why, are you planning on stretching out across it?”

  My stomach churned as he picked the perfect spot that would give us the best view of the city. “Did I mention there would be no flirting, or you will be swimming back to the city.”

  Delian complained, “I am trying to be good, but you just don’t seem to be cooperating.”

  I sat down on the very edge of the blanket as Delian started to pull various lunch meat, bread, fruit, and chips out of the picnic basket. He handed me a Mt. Dew as well. As I shook my head at him, I announced, “Fine. I will be on my very best behavior from now on—all business, that’s me. So, tell me, how much history do you know about the island, Delian?”

  The rest of lunch became a bit of a competition on who could stump whom on Belle Isle trivia. I had some pretty good skills because of all the field trips and visits I spent here, but Delian seemed to have a historian’s knowledge of the island. He even knew that the first French colonist had named the place Hogs Island in the 18th century until it became Island of Beauty. As we packed up and headed to the Aquarium, I thanked Delian for lunch and his history lesson. He could not help himself with a little razzing, “Well, anytime you would like to be taken to school on a subject, Calliope, let me know.”

  I snorted, but gave him his due, “You seem to have a strong grasp of Detroit historical trivia, which is rare for a transplant.”

  He shot me a challenging look as he opened my car door for me. “Who says
I’m a transplant?”

  I got in before I answered his question, “First, you are a UM student, which means you don’t live in Detroit, which makes you a transplant. There is also one sure fire test that will prove that you are a transplant.”

  “Fine. What is the test?” Delian asked confidently.

  I asked, “If you are from Michigan, show me where in Michigan.”

  Delian tilted his head and gave me an odd look. When he parked in front of the Aquarium, he pulled out a map from his glove compartment. I laughed and said, “HA! Anyone that was truly a native would have raised your left hand and pointed to where you were from on your palm. Michigan is shaped like a hand and since birth we learned how to show tourists where we live on our hands.”

  Delian threw his head back and laughed and said, “You caught me, you minx, very good. Now are you ready to work?”

  “Absoflockinglutely. What exactly am I doing?” I asked.

  “I am going to walk around the Aquarium taking pictures and assessing any plain sight structural damage. You are going to do a log of each picture. So, just write down what I say word-for-word,” Delian commanded.

  “Yes, sir!” I mocked.

  We walked around the gorgeous structure for over an hour taking pictures of even the smallest damage. When we were done, we had over 100 pictures logged, and I stated loudly that my hand was cramping up.

  As we walked back to the car, he asked, “Are you always this whiny or is it just with me?”

  I fired back as honestly as possible, “Just with you. Definitely, you are the only one that finds me whiny.”

  Delian didn’t seem to believe me as he said; “I will have to check with Rafe on that one. He has only texted me 10 times while we were here. Is there a reason he might think we needed a chaperone?”

  I laughed remembering my conversation with Rafe begging him for Delian’s schedule so I wouldn’t be alone with him. “He must know you a lot better than I. If he thinks we need a chaperone, I would definitely trust his judgment, so I foresee no more unsupervised visits with me in your future.”

  Delian sighed in disappointment as he drove. I checked my phone, which had been off, and saw that I had several texts and messages from Thrace and my friends as well. Delian finally replied, “That is probably for the best—at least until you are old enough to make decisions for yourself.”

  “What? I make decisions for myself all the time!” I sputtered.

  Delian seemed to be ignoring my outburst as he asked, “Would you like me to drop you off at home or at the GAR?”

  “The GAR is fine and just because I do not chose to throw myself at an older guy that hits on high school girls does not mean that I have the inability to make my own decisions,” I ground out between my clenched teeth.

  As we pulled into the GAR and Delian parked, I was prepared to jump out, but he was too quick for me. He grabbed me by the chin and turned me to meet his penetrating gaze. “You misunderstood me, Calliope. You have wisdom far beyond your years, but sometimes experience has to be your true teacher. I did not mean to offend you. I am sorry.”

  I seemed to be unable to break his gaze as I replied, “I accept your apology, even though I have no idea what you really mean.”

  Before Delian could explain, Rafe came to my rescue as usual. He opened my door just then and asked, “Everyone ok here?”

  I unsnapped my seat belt and nearly collided with him as I dove out of the car.

  Delian answered Rafe’s question in an irritated tone. “We are both fine, Rafe. We just had a slight misunderstanding that we were clearing up. No need for your supervision.” It was almost as if he issued a command because Rafe immediately stepped away from me and started heading back into the building ahead of me. However, I kept pace with Rafe so I would no longer be alone with ‘disturbing’ Delian.

  When I was finally reunited with my friends, Jazz and Key had all the plans ready to go for tonight. We were meeting at Jazz’s house for “Flocked Up Movie Night.” Each one of us chose a movie. We would watch them all in one night and judge, which one was the most flocked up. Tonight’s contestants were Heathers, Donnie Darko, and The Virgin Suicides. As we judged the contestants that night, I told Jazz and Key about Delian and my disturbing chemical reaction to him. Jazz told us about her back up plan if Rafe didn’t work out. Key also filled us in on how Tre was stilling measuring up against her list. As usual by the end of the evening, we were all on a sugar high comparing the yumminess of Jake Gyllenhaal, Josh Hartnett, and Christian Slater. Unfortunately, I got at least three drunken dials from Thrace that annoyed me so much that I turned off my phone. Of course, then I worried the rest of the night about him driving. On Sunday, I found out that Rafe gave Thrace a ride home when he insisted he was going to drive over to Jazz’s house to see me. Flocker!