A She-devil in Plain Sight

Lemon Turner, a young man with lemon yellow skin, fiery red short straight hair and a beard on his jaw to match; revealed himself. He was dressed in sharp blue clothes and light brown cardigan. He slowly turned his torso around, crossing his legs and leaning against the chair's back as he did so.

"Yes, that would be me, miss," he said smirking slightly towards a restless Rarity. "How may I help you?"

Rarity quickly undid Hummingbird's hug and pushed him away -- which made him let out a small, disappointed, high-pitched whine -- in order to focus all her attention onto the then-only-heard-of young man, her pupils still affected by surprise's invisible belladonna and her hands firmly grasping onto the white wicker of the chair.

"I... did not expect to see you here." Rarity said forcing her facial muscles to grin in order to show amicability, a grin capable of masking her uneasiness. Lemon Turner scoffed and fully turned his chair towards Rarity, soon followed by his friend Sunny Flare.

"Many people have told me that over the past few years," he said, his voice hinting annoyance. "You are not the first and you will not be the last pointing this out to me."

"Hold on a second, aren't you part of Canterlot High or something?" Sunny Flare said, squinting her eyes and pointing at Rarity briefly. "Why would you talk to the guy you know everything about?"

Rarity lightly recoiled confused by Sunny Flare's statement about her knowledge on Lemon Turner's life, which was as deep as a muddy puddle of rain during Summer.

"What are you talking about? I know him only by fame." Rarity said looking around her slowly. "I mean, it is not among the best ones around but still."

"Exactly." Lemon said with small sigh, letting his fringe fall short of his eyebrows. "Knowing how viciously they have tried to make me leave 'their' school, I wouldn't doubt that even outsiders and newcomers of the Canterlot High School would be aware of what I never did. They would have seen the things I fantasize about, met with acquaintances of mine I have never seen and places I have allegedly visited and still visit during days that do not exist on the calendar, and then be told to act accordingly."

"Yeah." Sunny Flare stated while affectedly adjusting her hair with one hand. "At least we try to have a casus offendi, when we do things like that."

Rarity bowed her head and briefly grasped on her chest, before forcing herself to get back at a normal stance and, thus, look right in Lemon Turner's grey eyes.

"Well, while it is true I know you only thanks to a handful of rumors, that doesn't mean I am content with what little of sure I know about you." Rarity said, hesitation peeking out but not fully showing itself in her tone. "I would like to know your side of the story as well, for clarity's sake as well as fairness towards you."

He smirked and made a dramatic gesture with his right hand while seemingly leaning against an invisible chair's back.

"I am glad to hear that you aren't as craving for strife and combat as your fellow students and a few crazed activists are," he said, his voice going back to the vaguely snarky tone it had at the start. "But I am still not quite sure of what you hope to get out of this."

“I do not have any particular goals in mind,” she said. “I am just curious about your situation. Is it true that you are--”

“A child molester?” He said with a bitter chuckle. “If I had a cent for each time I have been accused of being so, my personal wealth would be larger than this country’s yearly expenditure on healthcare.”

He bowed and shook his head.

“No, I am mostly definitely not a child molester, or a ‘kiddy fiddler,’ as the riff-raff loves to call me. I must admit I am a paedophile, thought, which I hope you know is unrelated.”

Rarity instinctively gulped as her white face took a slight crimson hue. She immediately averted her gaze and looked down at the crude ceramic floor below her chair, a small shiver going down her spine. However, just as quickly she had accidentally shown her stance towards it, she silently scolded herself and rapidly went back to her previous position.

“Uh, yes, I am perfectly aware of the difference.” She said uneasily while quickly nodding her head. “Do go on, when and how did you discover it?”

Lemon Turner chuckled loudly, causing Rarity’s heart to clench a little bit.

“I see that the topic interests you quite a lot but you also don’t seem hell-bent on preaching empty words to me,” he said with a small smirk. “I am willing to tell you more, but I would like to know your name first.”

Rarity’s cheeks took a slightly darker shade of red, as she realized that she had skipped a step.

“My name is Rarity,” she said. “Sorry for not telling you sooner.”

Lemon Turner made a backhanded gesture, before getting up and turning the whole chair around to properly face Rarity, and she did likewise to face him.

“If you wish, we could also exchange mobile phone numbers as well.” He said.

Rarity nodded vigorously.

“Oh, yes, of course, just let me take my phone out,” Rarity said, pulling her pink rubber-clad phone out of her bookbag’s internal pocket; bringing it out of its sleep mode and opening up the add new contact screen. “So, what is your number?”

“Oh six one oh one one eight six six one,” he spelled out, using his index and annular joined together to punctuate each number, while Rarity rapidly yet elegantly typed the numbers in. When he was done, he made a fluid hand movement to then point his open palm towards Rarity. “What is yours?“

“That would be…” She took a deep breath to concentrate. “One five one one six nine one seven nine.”

Lemon Turner typed it quickly, bowing his head when he was done.

“So, with that out of the way, Rarity, let’s begin with my personal history.” He said, his tone taking an air of dramatic solemnity and somberness. “My story began around ten years ago --”

He was soon interrupted by Hummingbird’s shrill scream, which made Rarity snap her head around, now reminded about why she was there in the first place.

“Hummingbird, are you alright?” She asked worriedly, only to see him holding the hand of a rather large khaki woman wearing a black and white dress. Her orange hair had traces of black was rather unkempt, and her long pointy nose stood out in her wrinkly face.

“Lookie!” Hummingbird said, his head pointed towards the woman’s face and his right hand pointing at Rarity. “She’s that lady!”

As Rarity watched with bated breath and her heart skipping a few beats, she could hear Lemon Turner talking behind her, saying “Hoopoe, you shall not engage me today! Come on, Sunny, let’s get going before that barrell of sour lard starts to sprout profanities at me.”

However, her attention was mostly drawn by the impending arrival of Hoopoe and by Hummingbird’s enthusiastic pointing in her direction.

“So, you must be that ‘lady’ my son’s talking about so well,” Hoopoe said said, her voice resembling a clay flask begin played by an hyperventilating opera singer. Her tone was one of suspicious inquiry and her eyes -- or what little could be gathered from underneath the wrinkles -- clearly prepared themselves to shoot grapples of daggers.

This caused Rarity to quiver a little, but not visibly waver,

“Yes, that would be me, madam.” She said with a small bowing gesture. “What do you wish from me?”

“Nothing, I just wanted to make sure you actually were a girl and not an effeminate boy,” she said, her tone haughty and acidic, quickly turning around, thusly making Hummingbird spin onto himself and whimper a little. “Boys of your age can’t be trusted in looking over children, chiefly because they have no maternal instinct. If, for whatever reason, they try to help a young child, they should be immediately stopped as they only want to molest them or crap like that, but girls would never do that.”

Rarity’s heart sped up considerably and a chill of dread spread in her entire body. As Hoopoe walked away, Rarity rose her left index, wishing to point out her logic’s flaws, starting from the most important one. But she could not, for her tongue quickly tied itself and her throat created a barricade, prompting Rarity to nearly choke for a few but crucial moments. She felt filled with a cocktail of shock, embarrassment and powerless rage directed towards the woman.

That part of her mind went back to violently invade her mind, disregarding any and all mental defenses. Rarity squinted her eyes closed, clenched her fists, let out a steam-like hiss and strongly bit her lip, trying to think anything but what had just happened and how strongly she was reminded of her desires.

Alas, no matter how valiant her efforts were, Rarity could not stop thinking about Hummingbird’s close call and about what she could have easily done, perhaps, thanks to her gender, begin undetected in doing it and -- as such -- leaving only her and a traumatized Hummingbird as only witnesses. But the price if he -- somehow, someday -- talked about his way too close contact with her was bound to be ruinous, Rarity knew it. She pictured herself with her hands handcuffed going through of a rain of spits, being forced to stand alone at the trial for the lack of people willing to take up her case. She pictured herself being pushed away from his mother, kicked down by her friends and, as last, painful punishment, an inmate enforcing a twisted law where to each crime corresponded an equally grave -- if not harsher at times -- punishment…

Rarity’s eyes shed water, as she rapidly grabbed her book bags and ran away home, her tears held back only by the effort she was taking in running away.