Seduced by Lies by Stacey Quinn Page A

with excitement and ideas, and his mouth repeated the words -
    “Baby steps. Baby steps. Don’t rush it. Don’t screw it up. Baby steps...”
                  Sienna’s memory of that morning was worryingly vague. She recalled entering the smoking are with crystal clarity, the memory of sparking up and simply bathing in the beautiful solitude of her tiny little patch of semi-overgrown nature, chuckling as she raised an imaginary glass to the world. She remembered thinking how she could happily spend the entire day in that blissful little corner, passing her time unnoticed by the prying eyes or wagging tongues of the outside world. But of course, her sanctuary had been invaded by Sam. The lumbering oaf had ruined her peace and quiet and had come storming through the hedge like a wounded wildebeest.
                  She’d been a bit annoyed, not particularly angry per say, just quite miffed that he wouldn’t leave, even after she made it very clear, more than once, that she’d rather be alone. But his odd characteristics, once again, had intrigued her - he’d been very nervous, refused the joint, apologized to her and even admitted he was a twat - all of which contradicted the behavior of every Jock in human history.
                  Nonetheless, she’d tried to remain as cold and distant as possible, despite her slightly peaked intrigue (an intrigue she loathed to admit, even to herself), but the more they had talked the harder it became, and she almost caught her icy mask slipping once or twice.  It had taken physical effort to stop her eyes from widening in surprise when he had listed Tolstoy, Baudelaire and F. Scott Fitzgerald. While they were fairly common names in certain circles, she had never expected to hear them tumble from the lips of a stuttering, baseball cap wearing, College Jock (not that she let him know that - it would do no good for it to go to his already slightly oversized head). She’d also tried subtly forcing herself to make eye contact with him - to look into his eyes and ascertain whether or not she’d imagined Sam’s eyes possessing the same fathomless, intellectual depths as her darling Jack’s eyes. But she’d pussied out - every time she got close, every time he began to look towards her, she’d darted her gaze away, suddenly unsure whether or not she was ready for the answer.
    And that’s where things started to get blurry. As far as Sienna could remember there had been a long silence, and a lot of tension had built up for some reason that she couldn’t quite place. Her last tangible memory had been of fidgeting around on top of the bin, wishing desperately that she could leave, while at the same time stubbornly holding her ground.
                  After that, all Sienna could remember was a searing white light and a feeling of forgetfulness, as if she’d passed out for just a second, before coming to in her favorite corner of the library. The only problem was, she came to at 11:00 am - two hours after the very last thing she remembered, and had (according to the librarian, who was somewhat confused by Sienna’s questions) been in the library for that entire time, apparently reading Pride & Prejudice, quite contentedly.
                  Sienna had remained in the library, pondering over her second very odd day in a row, wondering what it all meant, if anything at all. She worried over what she might have said or done in the smoking area, and then began worrying about the fact that she was worrying - why should she care whether she insults a Jock or not? Even if he is a semi-clever Jock, he could have at least come to look for her to see if she’s ok. This realization of apparent abandonment left Sienna with a very bitter taste in her mouth, and she found herself hoping she had been particularly foul to Sam during that unaccounted for period. Would serve him right.
                  And so she stayed at that desk,