First Draft: Chapter 36

She was the last person I wanted to see that night. If I knew she was there, I’m sure I never would have come.
I had come back to my room that night to find my desk covered with letters from Clio. Covered mind you. Not just a letter, but about 5 or 6. Or something like that. I didn’t even bother to count. I　opened the first letter and read a few sentences about how she was worried about something and needed to talk to me that night. She didn’t say what it was about. The rest of the letter was her apologizing for having disturbed me, and asking me not to be angry with her. Then right before she closed the letter she diverted from her apologies to again remind me how urgently she needed to talk to me. She still didn’t say what it was about. When she got upset, making sense was not her strong point.
I had a feeling I knew what the second letter said, but I opened it anyway. Sure enough. It had been an hour since she had placed the first letter on my desk, but she still had not heard from me. If I read this I should immediately go to her room and seek her out. Etc. etc. etc.
I wasn’t going to go to her room. I couldn’t deal with her. Not tonight. If I never saw her again I couldn’t deal with her tonight. I wasn’t even going to stay in my room for fear she would come back.. I went to visit Hermes, but he wasn’t in. I didn’t want to see David or Icarus that night because I knew they would just want to talk about the revolution or Clodius or something, and I needed a break from all that. Talking about the revolution seemed almost as bad as talking to Clio.
So I just went to the cave by myself. I never would have gone if I knew Emma was there. To me she symbolized the revolution. She wasn’t really human, just the revolution incarnate. It was everything I couldn’t deal with.
Unfortunately for me, I didn’t see her at first. I walked in and went to the counter. I ordered the mixture Herme’s had introduced me to, and looked around the place to see if there was anyone else I knew. I saw her at the other end of the counter. She was looking at me. I immediately looked away, but it was too late now. My drink came. I paid the money. I glanced over to see if she was still looking at me. She was. The appropriate thing to do seemed to be to go over and say hello to her. I had no one else to talk to. I wished I would have brought a book. At least if I had a book I wouldn’t be so obviously doing nothing and yet avoiding her at the same time. I took a drink. Maybe if I concentrated on my drink I could just ignore everything else.
I don’t know why I looked at her the 3rd time. I was wondering if she was still looking at me, and my head turned to find out automatically. Only later did my brain kick in.
She was still looking at me. This was becoming awkward. I nodded at her in the hopes that a small greeting on my part would be all that she wanted, and then we could both get back to ignoring each other. When that didn’t work, I tried a small wave as a way of getting rid of her. It backfired on me. She got up and started walking towards me. I made one last effort to avoid a meeting by ignoring her and simply staring into my drink.
I guess I hoped she might walk right past me. I didn’t even acknowledge her as she stood right next to me. “Are you alone Jon?”
There was a slight delay before I answered. It was probably just long enough so that she knew I was lying. “I’m waiting for some friends.”
“Do you want to come over and sit by me?”
I looked up from my drink and looked her in the face. “No.” I shook my head slightly. “I don’t.” I immediately dropped my eyes back to my drink to avoid seeing here reaction. She was completely non-plussed. In the same voice she asked, “then do you mind if I sit by you?” I didn’t answer. She took a seat. I took another gulp of my drink. She was sitting on my left side, and my hair at that time was just long enough that it covered my forehead and sometimes spilled over to cover my eyes from view. She reached over and brushed my hair aside with her hand. I looked over at her again. A smile, but not a sincere one, came across her face and then vanished. “So angry at the world, aren’t you Jon? I didn’t say anything. My hair had begun to fall back to its old position. She brushed it back again. “Are you angry at me, Jon?”
I couldn’t explain myself. I wasn’t angry at her. I wasn’t angry at the revolution. I wasn’t angry at any of them. I think I was just irritated. Just sick of it all. It was something everyone else was excited about, not me.
But I couldn’t put it into words. Instead I just looked for some way to attack Emma. “If my father hadn’t escaped in time, he’d be in the prison with Angelo now, wouldn’t he?”
Emma reached over and took my drink. She took a deep drink from it while keeping her eyes locked on me. “If he was, would you care?”
She sat the drink down on her left, out of my reach. “Hey, that’s mine,” I said, reaching for it.
She held other arm to stop me, but her eyes twinkled playfully. “I’ll buy you another one if you want.”
“I want that one.”
She smiled as she drank out of it again in front of me. She asked, “Do you know what you want Jon?” as she sat the empty cup down. Before I could complain she spoke up again. “Where’s Clio tonight.”
“I don’t know.”
My hair again fell over my eyes and she again brushed it aside. “This hair doesn’t suit you Jon. You’d look better with short hair.”
Most of the Young Clodians had hair at least as long as mine, and I brought this point up. “I thought you people liked long hair.”
“Not everyone. Your friend Icarus has short hair, right?”
“That’s different. That’s just Icarus. He never does what everyone else does.”
“So do I.” Emma had begun leaning in close as she said this last part. I instinctively leaned back. She leaned back in response, as if to acknowledge she realized I was uncomfortable with her so close. Her hand felt around the table until it reached the bowl of candy. She popped one of these hard candies in her mouth. We both said nothing for a while and I could hear the sound of the candy clicking against her teeth as her tongue moved it around. She seemed content to sit in silence for a while. I wished I could retreat into my drink again, but my cup was both empty and out of reach.
Without having finished her first candy, Emma reached for a second one. Now I could hear the sounds of two pieces of candy clicking around in her mouth. When she spoke up again her words were slightly slurred because of the candy, but she didn’t seem to care. “You know Jon, I could cut your hair for you.” I raised the corners of my mouth slightly in a dismissive smile. “No, really. I know how to do it. My mother is a barber you know. You knew that, right Jon?” Actually I didn’t. I half suspected she was making it up to give herself undeserved credibility. “I know how to do it. Your hair is a mess now. You really ought to let me cut it. You’d look good with short hair.”
“I don’t care what my hair looks like.” I did a little, but I prided myself on pretending I didn’t.
“Well if you don’t care one way or the other, why not let me cut it?”
“What does it matter to you?”
“Because I think you’d look good with short hair.” She stood up and grabbed my arm. “Come on Jon, let’s go.” She was one of those people that was so used to getting her own way that it was hard to argue with her. And she was stronger than she looked. Her forceful tug on my arm practically jerked me to my feet. “I’m waiting for friends,” I said. I guess at this point I was really just going through the motions of refusal, because we both knew that was a lie.
“No you’re not Jon. Let’s go.”