by Nicole Thorn
Class started and I let my eyes glaze over as I started daydreaming about what I could be doing with my time. Like reading, watching TV, eating chocolate, purposely giving myself splinters. Any and all of those things would be better than listening to Mr. Dixon ramble on about the Second World War.
I was staring down at my textbook when I heard the door open. I didn’t look up at it. Unless a man with cookies was on the other side, I couldn’t care less.
But the room went silent. I heard footsteps and a piece of paper crinkle like it was exchanging hands.
“Late on your first day, Mr. Wyatt?” Mr. Dixon sighed. “What ever for?”
“Well McDonald’s doesn’t stop serving breakfast until ten-thirty,” I heard in an English accent. “So I figured I had some time.”
I heard a sigh from the teacher and almost-moans from some of the girls. Then I heard. “Go pick out your seat.”
I kept my eyes focused on the page in my book as I prayed to my father that he’d do me a solid and have this guy pick the table in the back. But when I heard the metal chair scrape the floor beside me, I knew I didn’t mean a thing to The Devil. But I shouldn’t be surprised.
I heard the boy sit down and I held back a groan over how shitty my luck is. Could he not see the giant ‘bad news’ sign I might as well be wearing?
The teacher continued with his speech and I focused on not just leaving the room. Even if I wanted to, I’d have to crawl under the table to do it. That, or squish up against the back of the guy next to me.
“Excuse me.” I heard too close to my ear. “Don’t suppose I could borrow a pencil?”
I laughed through my nose. Who the Hell doesn’t bring a pencil on their first day?
I looked over at his side of the table. He hadn’t brought a thing with him. Not a backpack, a book. Nothing. So I dug in my backpack and pulled out a mechanical pencil. I’m cold, but I’m not a bitch. I gave him the pencil and he said thank you.
A few seconds went by before he said, “Maybe a notebook as well?”
You…have GOT to be kidding me.
I dug around in my backpack and pullout out a random notebook. It was from last year but I pulled out all of my old notes.
“Thank you,” he said again when I handed it to him. “Oh, and I really don’t like mechanical pencils. Do you have a normal one? I just can’t stand these things.”
Don’t kill him. Don’t kill him. Don’t kill him. Mom would be pissed. Don’t kill him.
I got what he wanted and slammed it down in front of him. When he said thank you, I finally looked at him. And…holy Hell. I forgot my name for a second or two.
He was tall. I could tell, even sitting down. He was in black pants and a dark grey sweater that didn’t hide what must have been the world’s most perfect chest. He had to work out. You’re not just born like that. Unless you were an antichrist. We tended to be on the ridiculous side of good-looking. Not that I thought I was stunning or anything, but it was impossible not to notice the beauty of my siblings.
His hair was somewhere between brown and blonde, like it couldn’t pick so it just went, fuck it we’ll do both. It was just long enough to look messy, like he couldn’t care to run a brush through it. But it looked like it might welcome my fingers combing through them.
His face…oh my god, his face. Like an angel but with a touch of The Devil. Trouble on two legs, this boy was. And I oughta know. The color of his eyes was a stormy grey. Warning of trouble brewing in the sky. His skin was pale—not as much as mine—and it looked soft. Like his mouth. Slightly open and smiling. At me. Because he was waiting for me to say something and I was just staring like a moron.
“You’re welcome,” I managed to get out before looking straight ahead.
Oh god. His face was burned into my memory. The most gorgeous face I’d ever seen and attached to the most annoying person I’d ever met. But it didn’t matter. I didn’t make friends with humans. Too fragile and too mortal for me to stand the idea of loving one and loosing one.
The sole reason I didn’t have friends. Well…that, and my terrible personality.
“Great, so can I have your backpack? I didn’t pick one up.”
I glared at him. “Are you fucking kidding me?” I couldn’t help but snap at him. That, or I slam his head into the table and end the chatter.
His smile spread and I had to fight to hold on to my anger. “Just wanted to see how much you’d give me before stabbing my leg with a pencil.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Not mechanical, right?”
“Well in a stabbing, it’s always dealers choice, darling.”
Deep breath. Don’t kill him…don’t kill him…don’t touch him.
I went back to my book and leaned forward so I could get away from him. I leaned on my hand while my elbow was propped up.
He whispered into my ear, “But, I don’t have a textbook. So it would be incredibly helpful if you were willing to share with me.”
Don’t kill him.
I pushed the book a little closer to him. He scooted his chair right next to me. The noise was so loud that the whole class went quiet again and stared at us. The teacher cleared his throat and went on.
The boy leaned close as he looked at the book. I just wanted this class to be over. He turned the page and rested his arm to the side of the book. His sweater went up slightly and I caught sight of a scar. It was thick and it looked like the cut ran deep on his wrist. It looked old. Long since healed. And it matched one that was on the side of his neck.
If someone offered me a hundred billion dollars and the power to make chocolate out of thin air, I couldn’t tell you a thing about what happened in class that day. When the bell rang I almost jumped.
I closed my book and shoved it into my Legend of Zelda backpack that my dad bought me when I was eleven. I stood up and put it on.
“Hale,” the boy said, gesturing to his chest. “Since you didn’t ask.” He stood too and I wondered if I could just charge him and get away.
“Okay,” I nodded as the other students started leaving.
“No,” he shook his head. “This is where you tell me your name. Then I say ‘Thank you for your help. It’s nice to meet you’. And you say ‘You too’. Then I say ‘Well of course it is. I’ve been told I’m very good company’. And you say ‘Really? I sure would like to find out for myself’.”
No, this is where I leave. Because I don’t let myself spend time with humans. “Sorry. But I’m going to be late,” I brushed past him and went to the lunchroom.
I got my food and picked out the empty table in the corner that no one dared go near. Humans were social creatures. I wasn’t. I picked at my hamburger that I was sure was horse meat. I don’t know why I didn’t just pop over to a fast food place and get something. It would be so much better. Plus, all that greasy food didn’t damage my body.
But no. I just ate what I had. I did however enjoy the chocolate milk. So I sipped it and tried to do the math in my head to figure out just how many minutes were left in school. For the year. The answer was too many.
I looked up when I heard Hale’s name being squeaked like he was Santa Clause. The excitement was ridiculous. I saw a table full of girls calling for him to sit with them. Of course. Not only was he new, but he had an English accent. That was more than what was needed to get those specific girls to drop their pants.
Hale and I made eye contact and for a split second, I thought he would come and sit with me. But he didn’t. One of the girls tugged at his sweater and he sat down with the vultures. But that was alright. It was the way of the world and I was used to it.
Throughout lunch I just focused on my food and tried not to look up. My hearing was advanced and unfortunately I could hear all of the fluttery giggles from that group of girls. They were asking him to say their names with his ‘sexy accent’ and he was doing it.
Aaand I was done eating. I stood up and started walking to the tray table. I caught Hale watching me walk for a second but he qu
ickly looked back to his girls.
So I made my way to art class. Only two more classes and I could go home. I was the first one in the room and I went to stand by a canvas in the back of the room.
We had a huge pallet of paint at every canvas. It laid on a table between two canvases. They were set up in rows of two. My own personal enemy. But as the students trickled in, no one took the one beside me. And all was right with the world.
Then Hale walked in.
I caught sight of him and I quickly looked away. Maybe if I ignored him, he’d do the same.
And I was right.
He took the canvas beside me, but on the other side of the classroom. He didn’t look at me and I was able to relax a little.
I got scared when people tried talking to me. There was a little voice in my head that said if they did, then they’d see what I really was. They’d see something was wrong, that I was wrong. Not normal. Not human. Then I’d have to watch them run in fear. Or worse, not care and want to still know me. But I couldn’t let that happen.
Class started and we were told to paint whatever we wanted as long as it was something that calmed us. I stared at the white canvas in front of me and tried deciding what to paint. I couldn’t think of a damn thing. So I started painting Hell.
It was just barren land with the massive gates. The POV of someone who was standing at the bus stop. The pigeon was on the ground eating seeds and you could see the very edges of the bench.
“Interesting,” I heard from my teacher. “What is it?”
I turned and saw Mrs. Lore staring up at it. She was around four-ten and it seemed like everything was a struggle for her. Her short brown hair was pinned back and her glasses were on her head.
“Hell,” I told her.
She gasped. “I said to paint something that calms you. Why on earth would you paint Hell?”
I smiled a little. “Because it does calm me.” I saw Hale in my peripheral and he was glancing over.
“How so?” she said it like it was a challenge.
I shrugged. “Well, it’s my final resting place. I should hope it’s calming,” my voice was deadpan.
She looked baffled by me. Hale walked over with a paintbrush in his hand, dripping with black.
“Why do you think you’re going to Hell? You’re such a sweet girl,” she said.
I snorted.
If only that was enough to save a soul.
“Why is there a fat pigeon in Hell?” Hale asked me.
“Dunno.” I narrowed my eyes at it, “I never asked.”
He looked at me like I was the strangest person on the planet. Nothing new.
“I’m pretty sure his name is Darwin,” I told him. I pointed to the visible legs of the homeless man I’d painted in, “That’s what he calls him.”
“Pretty sure? You’re not sure of your own creation?”
As the bell rang I looked him in the eyes. “It’s not mine. It’s someone else’s.” I put my paintbrush in the cup of water and put my backpack on.
“Alright, kids. Leave your paintings and I’ll take care of them,” Mrs. Lore said to us. But I was halfway to the door.
As usual, when I got to the locker room I went to a stall to change. I couldn’t let the girls see what I had to hide on my back. It might bring up questions I couldn’t answer.
I pulled on the short black shorts and the light blue gym shirt that I was forced to wear for Gym. Then I put my backpack in one of the lockers and marched out to the gym.
The first face I saw made me want to walk right back. Hale was leaning against the wall, surrounded by a group of girls. He had on a huge smile that even without my powers switched on, I could tell was fake.
He wasn’t in his gym clothes. Just what he was wearing before. Not fair. But it was probably just because he wasn’t given the proper clothes.
I went to sit on the bleachers until the couch came in. I chose the seat in the top corner. From my vantage point I could see the entire gym. The students were all in clusters while they chattered.
I tied my hair up in a high ponytail and people watched. I could hear every conversation in the room if I picked one and focused. I heard a girl telling her friend about some drunk guy with a curly mustache trying to sell her cookies. That got a snicker out of me. And a full laugh when she told the girl she bought some.
Coach Coleman walked in and as always, instantly owned the room. She blew her whistle and called everyone to the center of the room. We all did as we were told. She was by far my favorite teacher. And by far the youngest at only twenty-three.
She was shorter than me and had long brown hair that she always wore in a braid. It ended up over her shoulder most days.
“Okay, kiddies,” she started, “We’re doing some laps today.” That earned a loud groan. “And, free play. So shut up. Do five laps around then you can do whatever the Hell you want to. Just let me finish my book.”
“What about Hale?” one of the girls pointed to him. “No one gave him his clothes. I suggest he play with us anyway,” she giggled.
“Nah, just sit on the benches for now. I’ll get you clothes after class,” she told him.
“Um,” he said, “Can I talk to you in regards to that later?”
“Of course,” she nodded and Hale left for the spot I used to be sitting in.
Coach Coleman told us all to go and I began my run. I was a lot stronger and faster than most, so I blew through it like it was nothing. Then I went to bug Jay.
“Miss me?” I said to the coach.
She didn’t look up from her book. “Hmm…maybe.”
“Jenna,” I whined. “Don’t pretend that you don’t love me.”
She closed her book and smirked at me. “Ugh. My full name… Fine, it was a long couple of weeks, you brat.” She had been over for dinner not too long ago.
“Ha. I win,” I stuck my tongue out at her and heard the benches behind me groan. I looked and Hale was a few seats closer, but he wasn’t looking at us.
“You win nothing,” she decided. “How are your mom and sister? Hadley as delightfully messed up as ever?”
Jay was a friend of my family. She used to baby sit me and Hadley when we were little. Even though she was only a little older than us. I guess a thirteen-year-old baby-sitting an eleven and seven year old makes sense to her.
And she was a topside demon. So she knew what we were. She was very helpful when the papers all got changed so that Hadley was considered my aunt.
“Of course.”
“And you?”
“I’m fine.”
I heard the benches make noise again and sure enough, he was a few benches closer. Still looking off and out a window, like he wasn’t being ridiculous.
“Are you?” she asked accusingly.
“I’m swell,” I raised an eyebrow. “Do I look distraught?”
“Weary,” she decided after a few seconds.
I was a little taken aback. “I’m seventeen. What have I got to be weary about?”
“More than most.”
Another groan from the benches.
“Not really.”
“Really,” she sighed.
“More than say…someone with your…situation?”
She laughed. “Are you comparing us? Sweetie, we are not the same thing. Not by a long shot. And I don’t think—”
I whipped my head back when I heard the benches right behind us move. Hale was lying on his side, facing us.
“Are you kidding?” I said. “What are you doing?”
Jay looked back at him and smiled. “Oh, you’re just a bundle of trouble aren’t you?”
He smiled at me as he spoke to her. “I’m something.”
Human.
“I bet,” Jay shook her head and looked at me. “Good luck to you,” she patted my leg and took her book to the other side of the gym.
“JENNA!” I shouted. “You bitch…” I said quieter, but I knew she could hear me. Then I felt the bench I was on shift and I closed my
eyes.
“Why?” I said. “Why are you doing this?”
“Simple,” he said casually. It made me open my eyes so I could glare at him. “Because you don’t want me to.”
That set me off like nothing else. If I had been lucky enough to get a fire ability, this place would have lit up faster than my brother that Shiloh set on fire. Those Made are damn lucky.
I leaned in close to his ear. “You know what I wanna do?” I touched his hand and leaned a little closer. “Punch you,” I said harshly then moved back.
“So very apt on making me not like you? Why?”
“Because you pillaged my backpack and seem like your goal of the day is to make me not like you.”
“Not my goal.”
“Then get a new technique.”
He just kept smiling at me. Like I was entertaining him more than he’d hope.
“Explain,” I said.
“What?”
“Why me not wanting to talk to you makes you want to talk to me. Because I thought I was clear on my stance on it.”
He took a second and stared at his little band of groupies. “Because they all want to talk to me. Shallow reasons, of course. Very annoying.”
I settled down a little bit as sympathy soaked into my brain. It must not be great to be given attention simply because you’re new and shiny.
“Fine, I accept your answer,” I sighed.
“Good,” he said like he’d never had an ounce of doubt it would end like this. “So you’ll talk to me then?”
My eyebrows knit together though I tried not to glare. “As opposed to what we’re doing now?”
“Maybe in a less hostile tone?” I decided it was okay to glare. “Or not,” he backed off.
“Sorry, I don’t do well with people,” I explained. “I tend to not like them. Ever.”
He considered me for a moment. “Me too. But I give them the chance to piss me off before I just go and decide they’re not worth talking to.”
I looked around at the people in the room. And I did something stupid. I turned my powers on.
Colors exploded in my eyes and I looked at the people again. Each person, for me, had a color around them. Some red, orange, brown, black and grey. Each color, and each shade showed their character. I saw so, much, grey. Dark colors around most of the people. There was lust and hate and darkness. Jay was one of the only points of light. A soft pink as she read her book.