Scott and Hester

Scott jerked awake, sour taste in his mouth, right shoulder throbbing from sleeping on it awkwardly. Smacking his lips, he sat upright, massaging his shoulder. It was still dark beyond the boundary of the light cast by the lamp near the aquarium and he had no idea what time it might be. One saving grace, at least he wasn’t getting any smaller.

Getting to his feet, he stretched. Hester appeared, materializing like a wraith out of the darkness.

“I want some food,” he said through a yawn.

Hester cocked her head to the side, “I would think one completely existing upon the charity and kindness of others might choose to employ a modicum of civility and manners when making a request,” she advised.

Scowling, Scott curbed his tongue. He wanted to rant and rail at her, bitch, cunt, and any other epithet he could use, but it was obvious she was playing with him instead of trying to help and if he harbored any hope of getting out of this intact he knew he would have to play along. “Please,” he said, feigning a smile.

“Better,” she approved, vanishing from his sight.

He wondered if it was still Friday night. Tonight was the night he was going to drop the ultimatum bomb on TJ, put out or get out. She had been playing coy, stringing him along or so it seemed to him. What he really wanted was what he couldn’t have, Asha, but fucking a tight little package like TJ would’ve made for a nice consolation. Of course after he boned her he could notch his belt and move on to the next little slut that thought she could follow him and his golden arm to the bigs.

Hester returned, pushing her glasses back up her nose before placing a red plastic screw down bottle top filled with water and a plastic lid covered with what looked like granola into the aquarium.

Walking over, “What am I, a gerbil?” he asked, looking down at the provender

“I’m trying to ensure you receive adequate nutrition for the duration of the experiment,” she stated.

Experiment? He was her test subject and as such, he knew there was no way in the world the wannabe scientist in her was ever going to let him go. He needed a new strategy, some way into her head. Given her socially awkward disposition, he doubted she was accustomed to compliments from boys and that might be a means of eliciting something other than the scientist in her.

Grabbing a piece of food, he nibbled at it and smiled up at her. “Thank you,” he said, smiling.

Hester nodded, disappearing only to return a moment later with her notepad and a pen.

“You know,” he started, taking another morsel into his mouth, “I never really realized just how pretty you are,” he said, sucking up, though when he thought about it, the comment was actually true, she was pretty in a waifish kind of way.

She smiled at the compliment.

“I suppose I think the reason I was such an asshole to you was I was intimidated by how brilliant you are, I mean my god what a brain you’ve got in your gorgeous head,” he praised, hoping he wasn’t piling it on too thick. But again, as with his earlier assessment, this comment wasn’t too far off the mark either.

Nodding, she jotted down some more notes, though what, he couldn’t see because of the way she was holding the pad.

“How are you feeling?” she asked, studying him.

Time to lay it on, “Scared, lonely,” he said, lowering his gaze.

“Mmm hmm,” she said, making more notes.

“You know I think you have the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen. Are they green?” he said, showing her a smile.

She angled her head to the side, “Really?” she inquired.

He nodded.

“They’re actually more hazel, though I suppose the diffusion and scattering of weaker light by the turbid medium in the stroma of the iris may make them appear more green than is typical,” she hypothesized.

Only fucking Nerdgirl. He grinned, “Whatever it is, they are amazing,” he praised.

A smile pulled up at the corners of her lips.

Scott nodded. His assumption had been correct. Being called beautiful by a boy, whether a couple of inches tall or full sized, bitches were all over it. Setting down his piece of granola, he crossed the tank to the side nearest her. “Could you lean down so I could get a closer look at your eyes?” he asked.

Hester seemed to ponder a moment before setting the notepad facedown and bringing her face near the glass.

“Wow,” Scott chuckled.

“I know what you’re doing,” Hester replied.

“Realizing what a fool I’ve been for not seeing you in this light before? Guilty as charged,” he confessed.

“No, you’re trying to sway me by appealing to a nonexistent sense of vanity,” she replied.

“Not at all. Go look in a mirror and tell me you don’t see a gorgeous girl looking back, I challenge you,” he said.

“You are only saying these things because of your current situation,” she asserted.

“What? This?” he chuckled, “It’s finally allowed me to see beyond all the bullshit, like a veil has been lifted from my eyes,” he stated.

“You like girls like TJ and Asha,” Hester countered.

“True, they are pretty, but in a superficial way, plastic, fake. I know for a fact TJ spends hours trying to make herself look the way she does. You don’t even have to because you are natural and breathtaking,” Scott admired.

“You are flattering me,” she accused.

“It’s not flattery if it’s true,” he declared.

Leaning back away from the tank, Hester adjusted her glasses again, a stirring feeling deep within her body, pleasant and urgent. Was it all just a ploy to get her to loosen her guard, or was there merit to his words. Was he succumbing to some form of Stockholm syndrome?

Getting up, she slipped out her room and went down the hall to the bathroom. Clicking on the light, she looked into the mirror over the sink. Did he really think she was pretty?