Deviations in Writing

"Sheena! Wait up!" Rowan ran to catch up to Sheena, who was with a group of older kids, including Angela, her older sister.

"Hey Rowan! Are you able to come to my party?"

"Actually, that's why I was looking for you," Rowan said, watching Sheena as she started to frown. "My mother just wants to talk to your parents. There wasn't a phone number on the invite, so she was like, 'Uh, I wanna talk to her parents.'"

Angela laughed. "Oh that would be my fault. I was helping Sheena write them out, and messed up on some of them. Listen, I gotta call Mom, so why don't you give me your number, and I'll have her call your mother?"

"Perfect!" exclaimed Rowan. Angela pulled a pen and piece of scrap paper from her backpack and then looked up at Rowan expectantly for her phone number. "It's 555-8084."

"Okay, I'll call Mom now and tell her that." Angela smiled to everyone and walked around the corner with one of her friends, Lynette. Handing the cell phone and paper to Lynette, Angela grinned. "Do your thing."

Lynette looked innocent at Angela while she dialed the number from Rowan.

"Sceth residence, this is Gregory."

"Mr. Sceth, I presume?" Lynette twanged in a rich, Southern accent.

"Sorry ma'am, Mr. Sceth is not in. I can get Mrs. Sceth for you."

"Oh dear me! My apologies, sir. Yes, Mrs. Sceth would be fine."

"And who can I say is calling?" Gregory asked.

"Ms. Robinson, Sheena's mother."

"Ah! One moment please," Gregory set the phone down, and called for Fyre.

"This is Fyre."

Lynette blinked in surprise and covered up the delay by carrying it over. "Fyre? What a precious name dear! This is Ms. Robinson, Sheena's mother. I heard from my daughter that you wanted to speak with me?"

On the other end of the line, Fyre gave a roll of her eyes. There was nothing more annoying to her than a ‘Southern Belle’, especially one who was likely born and raised in Beverly Hills. "Oh yes. I just wanted to check on a few details about the party. The invitation was a bit—"

"Sparse. Yes, my girls decided that they wanted something simple. I'll tell you, that's about the only time they went for the whole Zen approach." Lynette and Fyre shared a brief chuckle before ‘Ms. Robinson’ continued. "It’s just your run of the mill slumber party. We'll pick everyone up after school, so you needn't worry about that and someone can bring your dear Rowan home if you would like—I hear you have your hands full, after all."

"That would be fine. What time do you expect the party to be over?"

"Well, I know some of the girls will be staying until Sunday, but if that's inconvenient for you, we could bring her home anytime Saturday."

"I'll leave that one up to Rowan. She may enjoy being away from her siblings for a few days. Well then, I have your address here on the invitation, could I just get your phone number? Just in case."

"Why, of course dear! Its 555-2170."

"Perfect. Well then, it's been a pleasure talking with you, Ms. Robinson."

"You have a good day now, Mrs. Sceth. G'bye!" Lynette burst out laughing the moment she hung up the phone. "Man, I do impress myself."

Talking the phone back, Angela saved the number under ‘Rowan's Mom’ and hooked her arm in Lynette's. Strolling around the corner, the two caught up with the group. "Rowan, your mother said it’s cool that you come," Angela said, covering it up quickly with, "Mom called your mother on three-way, so I could eavesdrop." Angela grinned and winked, everyone in the group understanding the truth about the wink, except Rowan. "C'mon, let's get to class."

Angela and Lynette turned away, leading most of the small group away. Nicholas looked over his shoulder to Rowan, smiled and said "Bye" before hurrying off with the girls.

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"So, mom, can I go?" Rowan gave her mother her best pleading look; blue eyes large and innocent.

Fyre looked at the invitation, a simple piece of paper that had been hand-written; no phone number had been included. "I don't know Rowan. I would like to talk to Sheena's parents first."

"I think they ran out of invites," Rowan said, trying to explain the hand-written invitation. "There are a lot of girls in our grade. So maybe they just forgot to write the number?"

"Perhaps. Why don't you get the number from Sheena, and I'll give them a call. We'll see about it after that, okay baby-girl?"

"Alright, Momma."

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"Hi Rowan," Sheena said, stopping beside the ‘Sceth table’ in the lunchroom. She glanced at Tyr and gave him a smile before turning her attention back to Rowan.

"Hey Sheena. Did you want to join us for lunch?" Rowan asked, though she noticed that Sheena had no food with her.

"No, no. I just wanted to drop off this with you," Sheena said, handing Rowan an envelope. "It’s an invite to my slumber party this Friday."

Rowan started to open it, but when Sheena explained what is was she just kept it in hand. "Oh? That's great! I'll check with my mother, I'm pretty sure she'll let me go."

"Great!" Sheena paused for a moment. "Well, tell me when you find out. Bye!" She then waved and hurried off.

"Why were you only invited, Rowan?" Eidie sat there, staring at his sister.

"Because it’s a slumber party, Eidolon!"

Eidie sat back, unaccustomed to the full name treatment from his sister, and looked to Tyr for support.

"Hey, don't look at me! Do you really want to be around a bunch of girls in pajamas, doing their makeup and hair and talking about boys?" Tyr raised a brow, even he paused thinking about that. Before Eidie, could answer, Tyr looked at Rowan. "Hey! He's got a point. Why aren't we invited?"

Rowan rolled her eyes and was saved by the bell, the class bell telling them lunch was over.

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"Momma!" Sion, Eidie and Rowan screamed simultaneously when Fyre stepped through the kitchen door. A softer following of "mother" and "Fyre" were said in greeting by Tyr and Gregory respectively.

"Hello babies!" Fyre kissed the attacking trio and sat down on a stool. "How has everyone been?"

"I got an ‘A’ on my spelling test!"

"I'm going to be in the yearbook!"

"Eidie's failing geography."

"Am not!"

Laughing, Fyre pulled Eidie onto her lap and hugged the spiky haired boy.

"How long are you here for, Fyre?" asked Gregory, who sounded like he was in desperate need of a vacation.

"Well," Fyre started, just before Aidmheil entered with three-year old Loki in her arms, "At least a couple of weeks. Absolutely nothing is happening in Nod, so I figured that Demere wouldn't need us. Besides, if anything should happen, he knows how to contact us."

Her words were met with a chorus of cheers and hugs from her children, along with Gregory looking relieved to say the least. He turned back to the stove and finished up dinner for the kids.

"I'll have to make something separate for us adults, I wasn't expecting guests," he said, with a wink to Fyre.

"Well, I guess you'd better get used to cooking for three more. If Demere comes here, then we'll simply give up and go out to dinner. Or … he can cook." Fyre chuckled, along with a faint snicker from Aidmheil.

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He had been watching her for months. He knew her full name, birthdate, favorite color, music band, food, and even where her birthmark was. Some of his friends called him obsessed; he was quick to point out that he just knew a good thing when he saw one.

Our Lady of Sorrows, the grammar school, and St. Anthony's, the high school, were side-by-side allowing the spoiled brats of prestigious families to stay in virtually one location during the whole of their basic education. Nicolas, otherwise known as Romeo to his friends, was fourteen, and a freshman at St. Anthony's. The future love of his life was Rowan Sceth, a sixth grader at Our Lady of Sorrows. Joseph, a senior and one of Nicolas's best friends, called her Lolita, but then he read a little too much in Nicolas's opinion.

"Hello? Earth to Nick! Come in Nick!" Angela gave an exasperated sigh, shaking her head. "You'd think she was the only female on Earth, the way he’s fascinated with her," Angela said to Naomi, who shrugged in response.

"He's male, Angela. You know, no brain functions while his dick is in charge. He should be lucky that breathing is involuntary, else he may have asphyxiated himself weeks ago." Naomi punctuated her statement with a loud pop of her gum, and flipped the page of Cosmo sitting in her lap.

Nick suddenly leaned over and showed the pictures he was looking at to Joseph. They were eight-by-ten glossies in black and white; Nick claimed he was working on a photo project and was allowed onto Our Lady's campus the week prior. Due to his little white lie—he did turn in an assignment with at least one picture from Our Lady in it—Nick now had over a dozen shots of Rowan.

"Check her out, Joe. Just imagine her when she gets to high school."

"Nicky, if I start imaging that, I'm liable to get myself arrested," laughed Joseph.

"Hey! She's min—" Nicks' boast was abruptly cut off by Joe slugging him in the arm.

"Dude, chill. It was a joke, alright?"

Nick grumbled some and returned to the pictures, pausing on one with Rowan looking directly at the camera.

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