Zenon's Game Chapter 199

I unfroze myself and started to shuffle towards them. I don't know what my plan was but curiosity took control of my body so I really can't hold myself accountable.

Maybe they won't notice me if I make veeery small shuffles.

A window opened and Charlotte stuck her blonde head outside. "Zenon! Your girlfriend's there."

Drat.

Zenon glanced from Bianca and towards me. His eyes widened in surprise and he called out my name.

I did the only thing I could do. Turn and run.

The ground was a bit slippery because of a thin layer of ice and my rain boots weren't the best choice. I was running so slowly but trying so hard and slipping all over the place. But I persisted.

"Candace!"

I ignored him and kept running. Run run running.

"Candace," Zenon reached me within a few seconds.

I jumped at his voice and slipped on the icy concrete, almost losing grip of my tupperware. I clung onto it as Zenon held onto me, stopping me from crashing onto the ground. His arms wrapped around my waist as my legs behaved like jelly.

It was almost like we were ice skating... except we weren't.

"Candace," he repeated, after my flailing had subsided.

Zen lemur. Try to be the zen lemur.

"No," I said, standing up on my own two feet and standing away from him, "You have someone else to talk to."

"Come on," he sighed.

"Don't tell me to come on! I've told you how I felt about this."

"I couldn't leave her outside," he argued, "It's cold."

"Oh sure, she doesn't own a sweater?" I retorted, "Pft!"

I started on my angry way. I had places to go and tupperware to hand out.

"Come on Candace, where are you going?" Zenon asked, "I can come with you."

I gave him the silent treatment. I was so tired of this Bianca story. Why does she always keep coming up? Why is it that every time I'm minding my own business I see something or am told something about Bianca and Zenon that gets me all twisted up?

First she's rude to me, then she tries to crash the weekend at the jake house, then she allegedly gets me fired. Then I found out Zenon and her used to be a couple, then she says they slept together, then she wants to join us for New Years and now she's over at his house.

Why are they still friends? Is this not enough reason to end it?

I walked further up our street and he walked alongside me. Some of the neighbors had started to put up lights and decorations for the holidays. I was not in a festive mood. I was a grinch.

"CAN-"

"Yes?" I snapped.

I looked over at him and asked, "Why are you laughing?"

"You're so mad at me," he chuckled and tried to keep a straight face when he saw I wasn't laughing.

"Because you don't listen to me!" I complained, "I told you what it means to me when you invite her into your home. She's told me she wants to be with you. That's not OK, Zenon."

"This doesn't look good," he admitted, "But I wish you were around to hear what I was saying."

If he knows what it looks like, if he knows it's something I'd be uncomfortable with, why did he still do it?

I told him, "Bianca's only a problem if you make me think she is."

I hated behaving like this. I try to stay calm and keep my melodramatic tendencies inside my own head, but this felt like too much to deal with internally.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, "We told Bryce that he needed to speak with Bianca before she came on the trip. We're all concerned that she's not going to make this easy."

I had a sneaky suspicion that Bianca was seeing Bryce now because she knew Zenon was distancing himself from her. Dating Bryce kept her in the group.

My eyes narrowed, "And?"

"I said that if she steps out of line, I'll drag her back in. And that's what Bryce told her," he explained, "Bianca took offence and came to talk to me about it. I towed the line."

"You towed the line?" I repeated, suspiciously.

"Yeah, I said she needs to back off," he insisted and then looked at the house we stopped outside, "What are we doing here?"

We were by 34 Dupont Avenue. The doormat was a pale pink and it matched the flowery curtains. The exterior of the house was in decent shape.

"We're leaving a present for the cat lady," I answered, "This will be her first holiday without Winnifred."

"The cat?" Zenon asked me.

"Yes, the cat," I replied with a serious tone, "I came to pay my respects."

The old lady who lived on 34 Dupont Avenue didn't like strangers. She didn't like strangers or visitors or any humans. Her most recent love in life was Winnifred, her dead cat.

Her dead cat who we found in my backyard.

"Maybe it's a good thing you're here after all," I muttered to Zenon.

"What's your plan here, Candace?" Zenon asked, as he followed me up the front steps to the old lady's house.

The house had a doll-like vibe with a pink doormat and flowery curtains. Even the bell was painted a bubblegum pink color.

"I made her some cookies," I said, showing him the tupperware I was holding.

He peered at the cookies I'd freshly baked. They looked like round stones.

"So you want to kill her?" he asked, "That's your way of saying thank you?"

"I'm showing her that I care," I answered, protectively cradling my tupperware, "It's the holidays."

I made these cookies with love.

"Go ahead. You give her those cookies and she'll end up in cat heaven with Winnifred," Zenon said and patiently waited for me to ring the bell.